The Awakening 0f A Forbidden Passion (Historical Regency Romance) Read online

  Gwen whispered, “Miss, that was weeks ago.”

  Priscilla gave her a confused frown. Surely not, surely she had just been to the dressmaker’s shop. “How can it have been?”

  “Sometimes a bump on the head can make us a bit fuzzy for a time,” Doctor Rowley said. It did not sound so bad when he said it. Maybe it was not so bad. “Do you remember going up the stairs at all?” He was watching her carefully, so carefully, with those warm brown eyes of his.

  Priscilla watched him back and said, “No. Did I go up the stairs?”

  “Yes. You had an accident and you fell. You have hit your head very hard.” Doctor Rowley pointed toward her forehead and Priscilla remembered the bandage. “It is not unusual to have a bit of amnesia with these sorts of wounds.”

  “Amnesia?” Priscilla thought that was an odd word. “What is that?”

  Doctor Rowley’s voice was so gentle that Priscilla wanted to lean into it like a comforting hug. “Amnesia just means that you are going to have a little trouble remembering things for a while.”

  “But I will remember eventually?” Priscilla did not think she liked the idea of not being able to remember. What if she forgot something important?

  He gave her a smile that made her stomach tie up in knots, or was that the weird sensation that she was moving when she was not? Whatever it was it grew stronger when he smiled. Whether that was a good or a bad thing, she could not tell.

  “Now as much as I would love to take up all your time, I think there are some people waiting to check on you,” Doctor Rowley said. Then he was moving away from her. Why did he have to go? She felt better when he was near.

  Gwen gave her hand a squeeze and Priscilla managed a smile. “Gave you a fright?”

  “That you did,” Gwen agreed. “I am glad to see you awake though.”

  The door opened and Priscilla smiled at her father and mother. Gwen stepped back to make room. She went to stand near the doctor, who stood to one side to allow the family room to reunite. Priscilla found herself engulfed in a hug, and whispered a plaintive, “Ow.”

  Lord Chaplin chuckled. “Forgive me my eagerness. I am just so happy to see you awake.”

  Priscilla wiped tears out of her eyes. Why was she crying? She did not know. “I am happy to see you too.” She looked over at her mother. “I am sorry that I worried you so. I wish I could remember what happened.”

  Lord Chaplin looked over at the doctor. Doctor Rowley assured him, “It is normal for her to have some memory loss. In time her memories may come back.”

  “I am just glad you have not forgotten me,” Lord Chaplin said to Priscilla.

  Her mother chimed in behind him, “That is a favour of the Lord himself.”

  Lord Chaplin said, “Your sister is still beside herself. She at least partly witnessed your fall. I think she blames herself as you were going to see her.”

  “I wish I could remember so that I could put her mind at ease,” Priscilla said in earnest.

  Her mother squeezed her arm. “All in time, right now you just have to rest.”

  Priscilla nodded, or she tried to. The pain her head cost her every time she moved her head too quickly. “I feel so tired.”

  “Your body has been through a lot,” Doctor Rowley said as he appeared beside her mother. He looked at her parents. “I know you are anxious to visit with her but it is important we do not keep her from resting.”

  Lord and Lady Chaplin nodded along with the doctor. Lord Chaplin assured him, “We want what is best for her.” He turned back to Priscilla. “You get some rest while I talk to the doctor.”

  Priscilla saw the look that crossed the doctor’s face. He did not look terribly happy. Priscilla could have told him that he was better off with her father than her mother, but she was too tired to try.

  She gave her mother a sleepy smile. She was lucky she was alive. Now she had a handsome doctor to help her get better. Priscilla relaxed against her pillows and drifted off to sleep.

  She was awakened much later by a knock at her door. She could tell it was later because the sun’s rays had moved across the wall. It had to be late afternoon. Priscilla went to sit up and remembered her wound as the room spun around.

  She steadied herself and lay back down. “Come in,” she called as she put her hand against her head, as if that might stop the spinning behind her eyes somehow.

  Doctor Rowley and Gwen came into the room. He frowned at her. “Is your head hurting worse?”

  “I just forgot my head was hurt and tried to sit up too quickly,” Priscilla said with a smile. He was worried about her. She liked that he was worried about her. Of course, it was his job to be worried about her, but that hardly mattered.

  Doctor Rowley said, “Ah.” The way he said it was amusing, especially when his lips quirked up into a one-sided smile.

  Gwen said, “There is a visitor here for you that I think you will want to see.” She had a very pleased look on her face, but Priscilla could not tell why. She gave Gwen a confused look, but Doctor Rowley interrupted any further discussion by examining her.

  She was very compliant. Priscilla caught his gaze as he leaned over to check her eyes, and they twinkled with amusement as if he knew what game she was playing. But she was not playing a game so she smiled at him.

  “Well, other than your head, I do think you are in good physical condition. Now, as your maid said there is a visitor here for you. Do you feel up for some company?” He eyed her questioningly.

  Priscilla gave a little shrug. “I suppose I do.”

  The doctor nodded at Gwen, who went to the door to fetch whoever was outside. She beckoned someone inside and that someone happened to be a very tall, handsome man with dark hair and the most piercing green eyes. He gave her a bright smile as if he was very happy to see her.

  “Miss Morton, I am so pleased to see you awake. I heard about your accident and came right away,” he said.

  Priscilla gave him a puzzled smile. “Thank you…” She cleared her throat. “I hate to ask this, but do I know you?”

  The man looked alarmed. His eyes darted over to Doctor Rowley. Doctor Rowley explained, “She suffered a hit on the head that has left her with some amnesia. She cannot remember certain things.”

  “Surely that does not apply to me,” he said. He turned toward her. “We grew up together. Do you not recognise me?”

  Priscilla opened and closed her mouth. Finally, she just gave a small shake of her head. Gwen stepped up beside the man. “The doctor said she might remember, but we have to give her time.”

  “That is true,” Doctor Rowley confirmed. “There is a good chance she will regain her memories but it may take some time.”

  The tall man looked like he was trying to digest the information that had just been handed him. “But she doesn’t know me at all? We were to be married today.”

  Priscilla’s mouth fell open. “We were to what?”

  “She does not remember we were engaged,” he said as he rubbed his face. He looked at her pleadingly. “Look at my face. My name is Philip. We used to play together as children.”

  Priscilla tried. She tried so hard to remember him, but she could not. “I am so sorry. I do vaguely recall Philip as a child. I feel awful.”

  Philip sank down beside the bed and knelt on the floor. He took her hand in his. “Do not feel bad. It is I that should feel remorse for making you upset at a time like this. I was just so shocked that I did not think of what I was saying. We shall work every day to help you remember so that we can have our wedding day.”

  Whoever he was, Priscilla’s heart went out to him. She remembered Philip as a child. Rotten brat he was most of the time, but could this really be him all grown up? “I will try my best to remember. I promise, Philip.”

  Chapter 4

  “I really must see my other patients,” George told Lord Chaplin again, trying his best to keep his voice level and professional so as to not make a scene in the man’s entrance hall.

  Lord Chapli
n wrung his hands. “What if she takes a turn for the worst?”

  “Your daughter has been eating and drinking for over a day and nothing bad has befallen her. Your doctor is due back in today, and I feel he is capable of handling this situation.” George eyed the man to see if reasoning was going to get through to him.

  Lord Chaplin ran a hand through his greying brown hair. “Please, Doctor Rowley. Our physician is old and nearing the end of his career. Our daughter has taken a liking to you. She trusts you and I do not think at this critical time that she should be handed off to another doctor.”

  The man made a valid point. The young lady needed continuity to not set back her memory lessons. He thought of the trip home that he had in a week’s time. “I shall need to make some arrangements. If your driver would take me back to my house so I can sort out some details, then I shall be glad to come back and oversee your daughter’s recovery.”

  “Whatever you need, Doctor Rowley,” Lord Chaplin assured him. He snapped his fingers at a boy who was lounging nearby in the entrance hall. “Go tell them to get a carriage ready for Doctor Rowley.”

  The boy was swiftly off to do his master’s bidding. Yes, the man was all eagerness as long as George was doing exactly what he wanted him to do. George had met those types, but he could not hold it against Lord Chaplin. A father doing what is best for his child was never something to be scorned.

  “Thank you,” George said with a bow to Lord Chaplin.

  He walked outside to wait on his carriage. He would need to see his landlady and give her the rent ahead of time. There were patients to be looked after. He would simply have to go by the office of the doctor he had lined up to cover his patients during his vacation. Perhaps he could start a week early.

  The one task he hated above all the others was that he had to write a letter home explaining that he would be unable to come for a visit. How he hated disappointing his brother and father. He should never have agreed to go home in the first place. He could not disappoint anyone if he never agreed to anything.

  George rubbed his chin. He stretched and gave a tired yawn as he watched the men ready the carriage. The men worked more quickly than George thought they would and soon the carriage was being pulled around. When it stopped in front of him, George handed the carriage driver Dr. Peterson’s business card. “I need to go to see him before you take me home.”

  “Can do,” the driver said with a smile.

  George thanked the man and got into the carriage. The rocking of the carriage lulled him so much his eyelids began closing together. He took the risk of a little nap and hoped he would not wake up groggier than before.

  When George’s eyes came open as the carriage jerked to a halt, he sat bolt upright unsure of what was going on for a second. He hurried out of the carriage and into the office. “Danny,” George called.

  Daniel Peterson had gone to school with George and they had gone through medical training together. Danny came out of the back with a towel over his shoulder. “George!”

  The two men shook hands. “Sorry to intrude like this George, but I have a serious case at the Earl of Chaplin’s home and I was hoping you would be willing to take over my patients a week early.”

  “Do not tell me this means you will not be going home,” Danny said with a frown.

  George nodded. “Yes. I dread hearing what my brother will say about that, but it cannot be helped.”

  Danny sighed. “Well, I suppose I can take over a week early, George.”

  “I will compensate you, of course,” George said just to be clear.

  Danny chuckled and slapped George on the back. “Never thought you would swindle me, George. I hate to run you off, but I have a patient in the back.”

  George nodded and gave Danny a smile. “Thank you again, Danny.” Danny raised his hand and went back to his patient. George saw himself out.

  The carriage driver called, “Home now, Sir?”

  “Yes,” George said as he opened the carriage door and clambered inside. It was nice, he had to admit, to not have to walk everywhere. Careful, old boy, or you will get lazy, George told himself.

  He leaned back in the carriage seat and thought about his patient. She had recognised him. George had been in his professional persona, but he had wanted to tell her that he recognised her too.

  George had remembered her indeed, but he had had too much to worry over at first to mull on it. She had been at the ball that his brother had insisted he attend to “further his career.” It had landed him Lady Tate as a patient so there was that.

  He had kicked himself for not getting an introduction that night at the ball, but now it looked as if he might have a second chance. Only, she appeared to be engaged. George shook his head. He would do his job and she would soon have her memories back.

  If that meant she would marry the Duke of Ridlington, then so be it. That was his job and that was what he would do. George pondered what a strange turn of events it was.

  He had happened upon so many little coincidences in his work that he had come to view them as a kind of magic. Much like the old washerwoman who he helped with aching fingers and knees, he too thought there had to be something in this world just a bit beyond us. George smiled to himself.

  When he got out at his home, he turned back to the driver. “There is no need to wait. It may take me some time to gather some things and write correspondences.”

  “His Lordship was very specific with his instructions,” the driver said. “The carriage is at your disposal today. I will go to find some food if you think you will be occupied a spell, but I shall return to pick you up.”

  George nodded his understanding. “I shall see you in a little while then.” He lifted his hand to the carriage driver and the man returned the gesture.

  Inside the house felt like he had been gone for weeks and not just simply for a day. He went to his writing desk and penned a letter before he lost his nerve.

  Dear Nathaniel,

  It is with a heavy heart that I must write to tell you that I have been detained in London for the foreseeable future. The daughter of the Earl of Chaplin has fallen and suffered a head injury that requires me to rehabilitate her. I promise that when she is well, I shall pay a visit to the estate.

  Send Father my love.

  Sincerely,

  George

  He looked over the letter. It was not perfect, but it would have to do. He would get a lecture out of it regardless of what the letter said. He folded it neatly and put it into an envelope that he sealed with wax.

  George would see that it got mailed, but first he had to go to see his landlady who lived next door. George hurried to the house next door and gave the door a rap with his knuckles.

  Widow Chavers opened the door and gave him a look of surprise. “Doctor Rowley, whatcha doing home?”

  “I came by because I needed to pay you the rent early, Mrs. Chavers.” George gave her a bow and held out an envelope he had stuffed with the rent.

  Mrs. Chavers took the envelope. “I do hope nothing is the matter.”

  “Not a thing,” George assured her. “I just know that my rent may come due while I am working out of the Earl of Chaplin’s residence and I did not want to miss a payment.”

  Mrs. Chavers beamed at him. “What a considerate man you are, Doctor Rowley. If only all my tenants were so thoughtful.”