Page 7 of Victorian Bride

“Don’t thank me yet, Miss Mya,” he said and winked. “I’m not finished with my examination.”

“Oh.”

He patted her hand. “Don’t be anxious, my dear. I’m here to help.”

She gave him a hesitant smile.

He sat in the chair at the desk and pulled out a leather notebook. He pulled out a pen and using the ink on the desk, filled it and wrote a few notes down. “The ladies mentioned that you remember your name is Mya, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Do you remember anything else?”

Mya squinted, trying to press the recesses of her mind for some kind of knowledge, but she couldn’t pull a memory or fragment from it. “Mya… Boyle,” she said suddenly. “Boyle. Mya Boyle.”

“Hmmm…” The doctor wrote something down in his notes. “You know your name?”

She nodded.

“Family?”

“I… I don’t think so.”

Lottie cleared her throat. “She mentioned she felt that she’d been in love before.”

“Married?” the doctor asked.

Mya shook her head slowly. “I don’t know… I don’t think so.”

“Father? Mother? Siblings?”

Mya chewed her lip as she tried to remember. Tried to see if there was a feeling inside of her that would tell her she had a mother, or a father. Even a brother or a sister. “I don’t know.”

“What about where you are from?”

She shrugged, biting her lip to stop the tears that threatened to fill her eyes.

“Your accent is different than this area. It’s hard to tell where you are from. Maybe English? Or somewhere in Scotland near the border?” Doctor MacAslan wrote some more things down. “Boyle isn’t a unique enough name to give you a territory. It could be Scottish, or even English. It could be a married name which wouldn’t help tell us where you are from. We’ll have to keep an open mind if there is news that someone is looking for you.” He shook his head as he spoke to himself. He straightened suddenly and stood. “Have you had any pain in your head?”

“Like a headache?” She touched her forehead. “There’s been a dull ache, but nothing sharp if that is what you are asking.”

He nodded and moved close to her. “May I?” he asked and motioned to her head.

“Yes.”

Doctor MacAslan pulled the loose bun from her hair and her auburn strands tumbled down, as if happy to be free. He felt along her scalp, checking with gentle, but expert, fingers. “No bumps or bruising. I don’t see a blow to the head to indicate there may have been an accident.” He stepped back. “You’re a lovely girl. I can’t see you disappearing unnoticed.” He glanced down at her shoulder. “Unless it’s for the better. Do you know who did this to you?” He pointed to the bad cut on her shoulder.

Mya shivered. Not from cold but from the realization of what the doctor was thinking. He believed someone had hurt her on purpose. Could that be why she couldn’t remember? Maybe he thought she was running away. What if she was? “I don’t know what happened.” A tear slipped out of the corner of her eye and raced down her cheek.

Eleanora stood and handed her an embroidered handkerchief. She patted Mya’s hand. “It’s okay, dear. You don’t need to figure anything out now. Or ever.” She glanced at the doctor as if sending him a warning.

He nodded in understanding. “It may come back to you over time. Maybe in parts, maybe all at once.” He shrugged. “Maybe never. Whatever is meant to be…” He turned and closed his notebook and gathered up his things. “I’d like to see you tomorrow again, Miss Bo—Miss Mya.”

“No problem.” Lottie stood. “We only want Mya to be safe. To be okay.”

“Yes. I understand your concern.”

Mya watched the three of them, sure there was part of a conversation going on that she was missing. “I’m not married. I’m sure of it,” she said suddenly.