She knew she was contradicting herself, but it was difficult to form clear thoughts with a figurative spike digging into her skull.
“What I mean is,” she tried again, “how would you know if I am unwell or not? You do not know me, and I do not know you. I assure you I am far tougher than I might appear. Once this headache fades, I shall be quite well enough to leave here, wherever here is, and return home.”
The man squinted as if he, too, were suffering a sudden headache, but before he could utter another word, Thalia’s father cut in.
“Thalia, this is your husband,” he said in a tight voice; the kind he reserved for when someone had embarrassed him in public. “Of course he knows you.”
Thalia scoffed. “He isnotmy husband. He is the man youwantme to marry, and I shall not do it when I have just suffered through such an awful experience. You shall have to wait until my brain does not feel as if it has a band of drummers inside it.”
“Thalia, heisyour husband,” her father replied, more insistently. “If this is some tasteless jest, it is not in the least bit amusing.”
A prickle akin to fear began to creep down the back of Thalia’s neck, her gaze skimming across the entire bedchamber, focusing on every individual in turn. Their continued confusion was not a performance; they were genuinely bewildered by what she was saying, and that older womanhadcalled her ‘Your Grace.’
But how could it be that Thalia was married without remembering it?Hadher father put her through the ceremony unconscious?
“When did we marry?” she asked tremulously, her heart lodged in her throat, her head pounding violently.
The duke did not speak, those blue eyes staring at her intensely, tinged with that same squint of displeasure that unnerved her.
Instead, her father answered in an irritated mutter, “You know very well when you were married.”
“Humor me,” she insisted, surprised she even had the ability to speak if this wasnota dream or a joke or a peculiarly cruel game.
Expelling a great sigh, her father shrugged. “Four years ago. You were married four years ago.”
A small squeak escaped Thalia’s throat as she met the duke’s unyielding gaze.That is absurd. That is impossible. That is…
It took every shred of willpower she possessed not to collapse into unconsciousness all over again. Indeed, she yearned to pass out, for perhaps, when she woke a second time, she would be back inside the upturned carriage, and everything would make perfect sense once more.
No one could just lose four years of their life, could they?
CHAPTER 3
“Well?” Thalia muttered impatiently.
She had been prodded and poked and assessed and questioned for what felt like an eternity, and, though she liked to think of herself as a reasonable person, her patience had worn gossamer thin. Her head hurt too much for her to pretend otherwise.
“It would appear, Your Grace,” the physician, a Dr. Farnaby, replied cautiously, “that you have lost your memory of the last four years.”
A flicker of irritation sparked in her tongue. “Icould have told myself that.”
“It is an uncommon thing,” the physician continued in a kindly tone. “I have seen it only once before, and there are many in my profession who would refute its very existence; it is so exceedingly rare.”
Thalia softened a little, taking some measure of hope from the physician’s experience. “What happened to the other individual? Did they recover their memories?”
“Some,” the physician replied. “But the circumstances were rather different to yours. They suffered an apoplectic seizure and lost decades. You do not appear to have suffered any sort of seizure, but youhavesuffered a severe injury to your head. There is a dent there that suggests it is not the first time and, as you have mentioned, you were involved in an accident four years ago. In my medical opinion, that is no coincidence.”
She gulped. “So, lightning struck twice in the same place and, when it did, it took my memories?”
“Something like that,” he replied with a small nod.
“WillIregain my memories?”
During her assessment, she had been fervently trying to force her mind to remember the years she had lost, straining as if it were a muscle that could be made to do as she wished, but there was nothing there. It was not like trying to recall a word, feeling it dance just out of reach; it was a great void where no memory existed.
“I cannot make any promises to you, Your Grace,” the physician answered with a troubled sigh. “Since it is such a rarity, and I have only seen it once, I do not know how this will resolve. All I can do is insist that you are very careful from now on, particularly when it comes to overexertion, strenuous activity,and anything that might further harm your head. Rest is of paramount importance.”
Clearing her dry throat, Thalia peered up at him. “And if I should make it worse? What might happen?”
