He saw on her face not a flicker of recognition, and he almost faltered as he raised the glass to her pale lips. To his relief, she began to drink thirstily, but he only allowed her a couple swallows before he laid her head back down upon the pillow. “A little for now, all right?”
She nodded, which gave Adam hope that she responded so readily to his question.A good sign, in spite of appearing not to recognize him or anyone else standing around the bed. He glanced at Donovan and Miss Biddle, and kept his voice low.
“I’ve seen this before. A loss of memory after serious injury…but it usually resolves itself within a few days. At least she’s awake—thank God, for a short while, anyway. She’ll probably sleep again soon…”
A soft sigh made Adam fall silent.He glanced back at Linette to find she had turned her head to one side and fallen asleep, and only then did he see that his hand holding the glass of water trembled.
“Here, let me take it.” Miss Biddle gently took the glass from him, her eyes filled with compassion. “If I may say so, sir, you’re a good doctor.”
Donovan nodded at the foot of the bed, though his expression remained grim. Adamknew what he was thinking before he even spoke. “A few days, you said?”
“Maybe only hours. Maybe much longer. Her body has suffered a severe shock. One can really never tell…”
Donovan’s resigned sigh echoed the pall that seemed to hang now in the room even though their fervent prayers had been answered.
Linette had awakened. She had survived the worst hours when death had hovered so near toclaim her.
Now Adam bowed his head, Miss Biddle setting the glass upon the bedside table to stand with her hands folded beside him. Donovan heaved a ragged sigh and abruptly left the room as if this latest revelation was too much for him to bear.
Adam didn’t blame him. To see only confusion in Linette’s eyes when he’d hoped so to hear her say his name or see her muster a weak smile? He’d heardof gravely injured patients that never regained their memory, their past existence a blur to them, which made him begin to pray.
Not this, dear God. Please…not this.
Late March, 1820
Arundale Hall, Hampshire
“Oh, yes, Aunt Linette, the daffodils are pretty, aren’t they?”
Linette nodded at the sweet child standing next to her chair, Paloma’s wide-eyed wonder making her smile. Brightyellow daffodils bloomed as far as the eye could see around the palatial mansion where her family resided, the flowers swaying in the soft spring breeze.
Her family. So she had been assured they were from the moment she’d arrived at Arundale Hall two months ago, their love and care and doting attention soothing her and giving her courage, especially in those moments when she struggled to remembermore about them.
Like now. Paloma had brought a pair of her favorite dolls outside into the garden, and had chattered on about how Linette had given one of them to her at her birthday party last year at their house in Porthleven. Except Linette couldn’t remember that party or giving her the doll or even Paloma, for that matter, at least no further back than when she’d been introduced to all ofDonovan and Corie’s children upon her arrival in Hampshire.
And whenever she tried too hard to remember, knowing how much the return of her memory would bring joy to her family, she felt a dull pain in her head, which lingered still.
She had done her best to divert Paloma from asking her about the doll to admiring the daffodils instead, but she’d known her tactic wouldn’t work for very long.Already her young niece had reached for the doll that she’d settled in front of a miniature tea set arranged on the blanket spread upon the grass.
“Mama gave me this tea set at my birthday party, too. I wish you remembered, Aunt Linette. We laughed so much and ate the most scrumptious lemon cake.”
Sighing inwardly, Linette reasoned that in her own innocent way, Paloma was trying to help. Yetshe could only shake her head and shrug, which made her flinch at the sudden dart of pain in her mostly healed left shoulder.
“Miss Paloma, time to go inside!” called out one of the two nannies watching the children today in the garden. The young woman in her white starched cap and prim uniform rushed toward them with an apologetic look upon her face. “Forgive me, Miss Easton. Dahlia and Draydonwere squabbling—”
“It’s all right,” Linette cut in gently, the day an unusual one when Corie wasn’t out here as well with her children, especially on such a sunny afternoon. The poor nanny looked a bit overwhelmed as she took Paloma by the hand.
“Shall I send for someone to walk with you inside, Miss Easton?”
“No, I’ll be fine, truly. I’d like to sit here for a while.”
The nanny bobbed a curtseyand then hustled Paloma away, the beautiful child glancing over her shoulder to wave at Linette.
That made her sigh, too, but she wouldn’t allow herself to be sad. Not when she was surrounded by so many people that cared about her and only wished for her to get better—
“How was your little tea party?”
The sound of Adam’s deep voice behind her made Linette suck in her breath. She tried to composeherself as she lowered the frilled parasol that matched the pale yellow of her gown and twisted around in her chair to smile at him.
