“What exactly happened?” Lena asked. She already knew, for August had told her, and a leaden feeling of dread sank into the pit of her stomach.
“News reached us of a terrible accident in Scotland involving several carriages. To this day, no one knows exactly what happened. Was it the bad weather and poor visibility? Or maybe it was the poorly maintained bridge? We will never know. What was assumed was that one vehicle crashed into another, causing such an impact that it overturned and careened off the bridge and into the river.” He stared blindly into the distance. “We hoped and prayed that Catherine hadn’t been in any of the carriages because her body wasn’t found at first.”
Lena went pale.
“Of the eighteen passengers involved, three died, and eight were badly injured.” He drew in a shaking breath. “We found Catherine’s body washed onto the shoreseveral days later,” he said with difficulty. “Identified only by the clothes she was wearing.”
Lena pressed both hands against her mouth, not uttering a sound.
“We buried her in our family chapel.”
“I am so sorry,” she whispered in a thick voice. It was as if they were not talking about her, but someone else.
That scent emanated from him again.
Cedarwood and musk.
She knew it meant something. She could not deny it. Her breath caught and her eyes filled with hot tears. It shook her deeply, made her heart throb with a yearning she didn’t understand.
She would have to tell him. It wasn’t right not to. Her fingers trembled as she clasped them together, trying to steady herself. She opened her mouth to speak but faltered, the words refusing to come out. When she finally found her voice, it was barely more than a whisper. “I…I was there,” she said, her eyes wide with fear as she forced herself to continue. “I was involved in the accident near Abbotsville.”
His dark eyes burned into hers. “Yes,” he breathed. “I know. Metternich told me.”
“That man—!” she began angrily. “He is meddling where he has no business.”
“In this case I am thankful for his meddling. He was doing me a favour. Go on. Tell me about the accident.”
“The truth is, I do not recall any of the events. I do not know the woman you found who was wearing my clothes. Why would she do so? I do not know. I was found by the side of the riverbank with a severe headinjury, considered dead, and placed in the side room of an inn where Simon was staying. He found me there and discovered I was not dead, but unconscious. I was merely wearing a simple shift.”
He rubbed his forehead. “Was it the abigail we found and mistook for you? Did you change clothes with her, maybe?” She could hear the frown in his voice.
She shrugged helplessly. “Possibly. I do not know. What an odd thing to do, if that was the case. Simon thought that the bodies were stripped of their belongings by thieves. He thought that was what must have happened to me, too.”
“And then, after they found you?”
“Realising I was not dead, Simon had me transferred to the house where he and his family were staying. He was convinced I must have been involved in the accident on the bridge. All I know is that through some miracle, I awoke in that house under his care, several weeks later.” Her voice grew hoarse. “I have no recollection of what happened. I don’t know why I was in that carriage and where I was travelling to. I do not recall my past, my name, my identity, nothing at all. It’s all gone.”
“I was with child,” she continued. “It was nothing short of a miracle that I didn’t lose the baby in the accident. Simon believed that I must have plunged directly into the water, instinctively tried to swim, but then struck my head against a rock. A fisherman saw it happen and pulled me out before I could drown. They called it a miracle when I woke up again.”
“It’s almost impossible to believe. Truly, it was amiracle that you survived and that the child was not harmed.”
“I owe my survival to God's grace and Simon's exceptional care. He was a highly skilled surgeon, deeply respected in his field. Not only did he nurse me back to health, but he also took me into his family. I became a mother to his children after the tragic loss of his wife two years earlier, leaving little Achilles in desperate need of care.” A shadow of sadness fell over her face as she remembered Simon and how deeply he had loved his English wife. Simon had needed Lena just as much as she had needed him—and his whole family.
“Not long after, he received an invitation from his mentor to join a prestigious medical institution in Norway. We departed from Aberdeen for Bergen and Hector was born there.”
“The trip would have been perilous,” the Duke said with a frown. “When was it?”
“In early 1807.”
“Just before the British-Danish conflict, then,” he said.
“Yes. Had we waited longer, such a trip would have been impossible. Then, two years later, we travelled to Austria.”
The Duke shook his head. “Madness. He carted an entire family with little children through the war-torn continent?”
“Simon utilised his diplomatic connections to secure safe passage to Vienna by joining an official delegation. He was the personal physician of the Duke ofWürtemberg. It was a long and difficult trip, but we were quite safe.”
The Duke nodded. “In late 1809, following Austria's defeat and the subsequent Treaty of Schönbrunn, there was indeed a brief period of reduced conflict that would have allowed such a journey.”
