Chapter Three
Georgina blinked. It sounded as if Teddy did not recognize her.
But that made no sense. She was the same height, the same weight, give or take a pound, her hair was every bit as plain, chocolate brown and untamable as when he’d left.
In short, she had not magically blossomed into an ethereal beauty worthy of his notice.
But still, he ought to recognize her.
“Madam, how do you do. My name is Dr. Penhurst.” The doctor spoke with infinite calm, as if they were meeting over a tea table in a formal setting, not in an asylum flanked by orderlies.
“Good afternoon,” she said, glancing between him, Teddy, and the porter, who, she noted, no longer smiled his genial smile.
“My porter tells me he asked for you to await me in the parlor.”
“I…er…heard a disturbance and thought to investigate. It appears one of your staff assaulted Lord Arlington.”
Teddy snorted and sent one of the men restraining him a feral grin. Only then did Georgina notice the man bore an identical bruise.
The smile the doctor sent her was patently disingenuous.
“Very considerate, madam. As you can see, the disturbance is now under control. Regarding the supposed assault, you are mistaken. I’m afraid Lord Arlington suffered a small accident yesterday when Mr. Yancy, here, attempted to administer his evening medicine.
“Unfortunately, and as you can no doubt see, Lord Arlington is not up to receiving visitors at this time. If you wouldn’t mind…
” He broke off to gesture toward the corridor.
In another moment, he would escort her out, and she would be forced to leave Teddy here—where he would be manhandled into submission—whether or not for his own good, she could not say with any certainty.
The facility itself seemed nice enough, lushly appointed with expansive grounds. There were no bars on the windows. No raving patients roaming the carpeted corridors. But Teddy himself…She regarded him, her heart squeezing in her chest.
She needed to make a decision. What was in his best interest? To leave him here, or proffer the one argument that would allow him to part—with her? She’d anticipated discussing the option with him, but that was clearly not possible.
Teddy met her gaze, his expression proud, defiant, and utterly miserable.
Her eyes locked with his, words spilled from her mouth. “I beg your pardon, Dr. Penhurst. I seem to have failed to make my identity clear.”
“I fail to see how that—”
“I am Lady Georgina Arlington. Teddy’s wife.”
A moment of stunned silence greeted her pronouncement.
Then Teddy spoke, or more aptly, scoffed. “My wife?” Apparently, he found the notion of being wed to her unfathomable.
She glared at him. Perhaps she was not the sort of woman he would actually marry, but that was beside the point at the moment. She was trying to help him escape this place.
“If that’s so, where have you been these last several weeks?” he demanded, suspicion lacing every word. “The people claiming to be my parents said nothing of me having a wife.”
“The people claiming…” she echoed softly, then broke off, her thoughts spinning. He had not recognized her, and now this. Dear God. If she understood him correctly, and she was not at all sure she did…
“A very good question,” the doctor seconded Teddy, crossing his arms over his chest.
One of the orderlies cleared his throat. “Sir, should we…?”
Dr. Penhurst gazed toward the ceiling as if seeking divine intervention. Then he pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand, while snapping his fingers with the other and gesturing toward the open door.
The two orderlies released Teddy, who sneered at them, tugging at his cuffs with swift yanks as they made haste to exit the chamber.
The porter stepped aside, allowing them to pass, his intention plain: He did not intend to go anywhere.
The doctor glanced down at the overturned furniture and stained carpet as if seeing it for the first time, then he stalked to the doorway and leaned into the corridor.
“Send someone to clean up this mess,” he called.
He straightened, huffed, and leaned out again.
“All of you, back in your chambers, or they’ll be no after-dinner port or tarts this evening. ”
Several thumps reverberated through the walls as, evidently, the curiosity of the residents waned.
Dr. Penhurst slid Georgina a considering look.
Rather than await his inquisition, she decided to lead with a question of her own. “Dr. Penhurst, am I to understand my husband has amnesia?”
“Yes,” he answered.
“I see. Well, then.” She twined her fingers before her and decided to put her story telling skills to practical use. “That explains why he did not reach out to me upon his return.”
“You don’t say?” Teddy muttered in clear disbelief.
She stifled her annoyance and kept her gaze fixed on the doctor.
“You see, we married just before he departed, in secret because…” she paused, searching her mind, “because we did not want to part without speaking our vows, but we also knew our families would be devastated if we did not allow them to…er…That is, they will expect a grand event, you see, when they…we…”
Not looking overly impressed, the doctor held his hand out, palm up. “The proof, if you please?”
“Of course.” She swallowed hard and unsnapped her reticule.
With shaking hands—indeed, her entire body trembled—she withdrew the document she had created last night before bed when it occurred to her Teddy might welcome the farce of a pretend wedding held in Gretna Green some two years ago if it meant gaining his freedom.
She handed the forged note to the doctor. The foolscap fluttered with the force of her tremors.
He took it without comment and scanned it, as did the porter who read over the man’s shoulder.
The doctor arched his brows and waggled his head as if to say, good enough.
The porter, on the other hand, scowled and muttered something in the doctor’s ear. Though Georgina could not make out the words, she could almost guarantee he argued against the veracity of the so-called evidence.
Meanwhile, Teddy’s expression had turned decidedly speculative, as if it had finally dawned on him what this turn of events might mean for him.
She gave him a frank look that she hoped he interpreted rightly as about time.
He snorted as Dr. Penhurst waved the porter off with an impatient sweep of his hand.
“Thank you, Mr. Gill, your opinion is duly noted. Now then, Lady Arlington,” he said, stressing her supposed surname, “are you proposing to take your husband with you, or did you merely wish to have visiting rights?”
“I will be taking him.”
“You understand, there will be no refund issued.”
A rush of triumph flooded Georgina as she saw the shifting tide. “Of course,” she hastened to agree.
“We will not be held responsible for any harm should it befall him, or you, while he is in your care.”
She met Teddy’s eyes. His stare was flat. Hard. But there was something else there, too, lurking in the depths of those beloved caramel eyes. Fear, she realized, that the doctor’s words would sway her to leave him.
The sight bolstered her like nothing else could have. “I understand.”
“Then let the two of us convene in my office and make things official before you and your husband go.”
“Now see here—” Teddy began.
“Enough.” The doctor’s voice, though soft, brooked no dissent.
“If you hope to depart sometime today with your charming wife, Lord Arlington, I suggest you make no further trouble. I have had quite enough of your shenanigans.” His gaze flicked over Teddy’s ramshackle appearance, then the overturned furniture and spilled tea.
“You might make use of the time to clean yourself up and oversee the packing of your belongings.”
Fisting his hands at his sides, Teddy glowered, but nodded once.
A chill skittered up Georgina’s spine. What had happened to her smiling and imperturbable Teddy in the years since she’d seen him? In her wildest dreams she could not have foreseen an eventuality that included this forbidding version of Theodore Arlington.
Dr. Penhurst turned to the porter. “Please have lunch delivered to Lord Arlington. It seems he missed tea.” Aiming a placid smile at Georgina, he gestured toward the door. “Shall we?”
She had felt very good about her decision to remove Teddy from this place when she’d made her grand announcement claiming to be his wife. But now, seated in Dr. Penhurst’s lavish office across from him on the other side of his massive desk, she began to have doubts.
Dr. Penhurst addressed her as if delivering a lecture.
“Lady Arlington, you need to understand that people with amnesia deal with it in different ways.
Some are docile, willing to be led about by those claiming a relationship with them.
Some express a degree of humor over their situation. Some are fearful and timid.
“And then, there are those like Lord Arlington.”
“Like Lord Arlington?”
“He exhibits paranoia, accusing those attempting to help him of trying to harm him. He harbors anger, which he directs not only at those around him, but at himself.”
“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 with danger.”
“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 a patient unconsciously 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. Is there, 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.”
She considered lambasting the doctor for his actions.
But she did need to get Teddy safely to Brighton where she had recently taken up residence.
She certainly did not want something terrible to occur en route, such as him throwing himself from the carriage or sneaking off at one of the coach stops once she confessed the truth to him of their relationship.
Yes, this was for the best. She would tell him everything once they arrived in Brighton, and not before.
The doctor continued. “You’re heading to Brighton, I believe you said?
Taking into account three coach stops to change your carriage team, he should be coming ’round during the last portion of your journey.
I recommend giving him another dose at that juncture to help get him settled in.
Godspeed madam, and best of luck in future. You’ll need it.”