“Surely you exaggerate.”
Eying her, the doctor drummed his fingers on his desk. “I wish I did. His family claims he broke through his bedchamber balcony in an attempt to take his own life.”
Her heart rose up to her throat. “B-but he denied that. I heard him with my own ears.”
“Yes. He maintains someone weakened the stone railing so that when he leaned against it, it snapped and he tumbled over. I assume you know the Viscount of Ainsworth and his countess?”
“Of course.” She had met them on multiple occasions.
“Do you imagine either of them would orchestrate Lord Arlington’s death?”
“No,” she admitted.
“There’s more. I’m told his time on the continent was rife withdanger.”
“Well, of course. He was an officer in the British army at wartime. The fact he received many accolades for his heroics on the battlefield should not surprise anyone.”
“Madam, there are heroics and then there is such a thing as a death wish. For the last year, according to your husband’s discharge papers, your husband regularly volunteered for the most dangerous assignments, putting himself at risk of death repeatedly.”
She swallowed.
“According to his superior officers, his actions went well above the normal course of things, and, I’m sure it comes as no surprise, led to his current condition.”
“I see.”
“Which brings me to another point. His amnesia is a particularly difficult case. His memory has been absent for some time.”
“Is that unusual?”
“Yes. One sees cases like this, ofttimes, when a subject—”
“Patient,” she interjected and pushed her spectacles up her nose.
He inclined his head. “When apatientunconsciously represses his memories.”
“What possible reason could there be for such a thing?”
“Avoidance—of remembering something that causes him guilt or shame, for instance. It’s possible these attempts at harming himself are related to whatever memory he wishes not to face.”
She made no reply as the reality of Teddy’s so-called damage sunk in.
“Madam, I must warn you, Lord Arlington might lash out at you, especially when you attempt to administer the medicine he requires. You saw but a glimpse of what he’s capable of in his bed chamber. He broke the nose of one of my best orderlies, and blackened the eye of the other—in a mere four days.”
“Yes. He did seem particularly keen not to drink the tincture. Isthere, perhaps, something else that could be substituted?”
“The special brew came directly from London, created by Lord Arlington’s private physician who, I’m told, is one of the most renowned doctors in the country.”
“I see.”
“Madam, if you wish to depart, and leave your husband in my care, no one would blame you.”
She pictured Teddy in his bedchamber upstairs. Unkempt. Angry. Clearly miserable, and fearful that she might decide to do just what the doctor suggested. “Is there a chance his memory will never return?”
“Such a thing is possible.”
If she left now, and he never recovered his memory, he would be here for the rest of his days. “No. Teddy will come home with me.”
He gave her a relieved look. “I thought so. To aid you on your endeavor, I took the liberty of having a sleeping powder added to his lunch—assuming he ate it and did not paint the walls with it.”
