Chapter Twenty – One
Jane groaned in frustration as she threw her head back into the pillow. “I don’t know anything!” she cried. “You’re telling me things that I’m supposed to know but I don’t!”
“Jane,” Emilia said tenderly. “You know these things; you just need to be reminded.”
Jane had heard it all from Dr Remington the day before. He had told them that her memory might come back or it might not. He’d said the brain was unpredictable and that by telling her stories of what she should remember might trigger the memory.
It was after noon and Jane had been listening to stories for hours and instead of helping her, it was just frustrating her. The stories that she was in were completely foreign to her. She had no idea what they were talking about it that only scared her further. It made her feel like she would live the rest of her life with a black hole in her head.
“Emilia,” Jane tried to say calmly. “I’m trying, I promise you I am. But I don’t know you or your children and I don’t think I ever will. All you’re doing is making things worse, could you please just leave me alone?” she begged lethargically.
Emilia nodded, standing up looking a little hurt. “I’m sorry I upset you. Just know, Jane, before your accident, you were my sister.”
Jane felt immediately guilty for snapping at her. “I like you, I do, you’re a very nice person and I can see why we were such good friends. I think if you and I just had a ‘getting to know you’ conversation we could be friends once more. But like I said, the things that you’re telling me only make me frustrated with myself. I don’t remember these stories.”
“I apologise,” Emilia said sadly. “I’ll let you get some rest, I’ll have some tea brought you for you in a bit, and perhaps a tub. I’m sure you’d like to bathe.”
Jane managed a small smile and nodded. She still was not used to all the fine things around her. Her brother acted as though receiving tea on a silver tray was the norm. It was so strange for her. Her brother was suddenly a nobleman ... he’d always been a gentleman but now he had a title.
And then there was Lord Southerby. He was a puzzle that Jane could not solve. Her mother had suggested to her that there was a budding courtship between them but she felt far too insecure with herself to believe that someone as handsome and as rich as him would choose some country girl from Yorkshire over all the fabulous ladies that lived in London. If Emilia was anything to go by then he could do much better than plain Jane.
The gap in her memory frustrated her so. The stories she was told about her missing six years just seemed like it was another person and not her. She’d been a bridesmaid at Emilia’s wedding. She’d been present for the birth of both Little J and Annie. She’d had a season in London when she was nineteen and had made a fool of herself ... that one she believed as she wasn’t the most graceful and delicate girl around. But all these stories didn’t help her. It was as if someone was telling her the future and not the past because to her it didn’t feel as though they’d happened yet.
Jane looked around the room and realised she was finally alone. She hadn’t been alone since she’d woken up. Someone had always been by her side telling her one story or another. As nice as the room was she was sick of it. Her head pain had subsided and she felt virtually normal so she decided enough was enough. She threw back the blankets on the bed and stepped down onto the floor. She had to steady herself as her legs felt rather week. She attributed that to the fact that she hadn’t walked in quite awhile and not because of her injury.
She pulled the nightgown down to her ankles as it had gathered up around her waist whilst she was in bed and then she slipped on a fine silk robe that had been brought to her room by one of the maids. Never had she worn something so lovely. As that thought crossed her mind she realised she was probably wrong. She had been staying at Sebastian’s manor in London before travelling to Southerby so she had probably been wearing many fine things.
As she tied the robe around her waist she caught her reflection in the mirror for the first time since she’d awoken. The sight startled her. She did not appear how she remembered at all.
She walked slowly over to the dresser and sat down. Her face had changed shape, not by much, but it was noticeable to her. Her cheeks were thinner, and not so round which made her look a lot older than she felt. Her cheekbones were more distinct and her lips were naturally a lot pinker. Her blue eyes looked a lot wiser and her brown curls were worn longer than she remembered. She had changed. She had grown. She was three and twenty after all.
She took a deep breath before standing. It was then that she noticed how her figure had changed. She no longer had the skinny body of a teenager; her hips were more prominent which gave her a more hourglass figure.
She could remember the girls in the schoolroom teasing her about her figure when she was younger. They had said that no man would take such a plain girl who was too thin to bear a child. At least they were now wrong on the latter.
Jane slowly made her way to the door of the bedchamber. She had made up her mind to go for a walk. Not too far but just far enough to get away from anyone who’d suddenly thought of another tale to regale her with. She opened the door and poked her head outside to see if anyone was around.
The halls of the house were so wide and long which made Jane feel so inferior. How could someone like her ever be invited to such a place? She stepped outside the room and closed the door behind her. She then memorised which room was hers so that she could find it again when it came time for her to return.
Where could she walk? She didn’t know where she was going, perhaps she should have waited for when someone brought her up her tea for directions. She decided to make her was down the hall towards the great double doors. She assumed that it must’ve led towards the main foyer of the house.
She had to walk slowly as she got dizzy if she moved too fast. She made it to the double doors after a few minutes and was happy to find that they were unlocked. When she swung one open she groaned internally, discovering that it was not a way out, but in fact a portrait gallery.
She’d always loved paintings, but at that point in time she wasn’t interested in perusing them. As she was about to close the door and try walking in the opposite direction she heard her mother’s voice partnered with Sebastian’s coming towards the hallway she was standing in. If they caught her out of bed she would be in trouble.
She did then only thing she could think of and slipped inside the portrait gallery and shut herself in there. She hoped her mother and brother weren’t above stairs checking on her.
As she looked around the room she noticed all the faces staring at her. She’d always appreciated artwork. Every now and then when she was younger her mother would take her to town to see the masters at work. She could tell by the technique that such masters had crafted the paintings hanging in the gallery. Her eyes immediately found a painting hanging to her right which resembled Lord Southerby immensely. The artist had truly captured his handsomeness. A fine talent he had.
Her eyes then trailed to a portrait of a woman. She was beautiful, that was obvious. The way she was looking at Jane was as if she knew something that Jane did not. She looked familiar ... as if they’d met before. But they couldn’t have, she had to be the late wife that Daniel had told her about, the mother of his daughter.
“Do you mock me with that smile?” Jane asked the painting. It was quite unorthodox for one sitting for a portrait to smile, but this woman did. “Why does it feel as though I know you?”
The woman just continued to stare at Jane almost comically with her lovely blue eyes.
“Alright,” Jane smiled. “Play coy.”
She still could not place her. How could she recognise a ghost?
“I must’ve really hit my head hard,” she sighed.
She decided to close her eyes and think, as the doctor had suggested. She took the face of the woman and tried to place her. She wasn’t in her memories of her first seventeen years; Jane could only see her face in the six year gap she’d lost.
“Come on,” she whispered to herself. “Remember.” She furrowed her eyebrows, concentrating hard. All of a sudden she saw the face in and amongst the black. She was smiling in a field as she was talking to Jane.
As quick as the memory had come it was gone. She opened her eyes with a wide smile on her face. She had remembered something; perhaps retrieving her memories wasn’t a lost cause. But then it occurred to her that she was remembering a person who was dead. So in reality she was just imagining it.
“They’re gone,” she decided. “They’re all gone. All my memories are gone.”
As soon as she’d said that out loud the door to the portrait gallery swung open and her brother breathed a sigh of relief. “I’ve found her, tell everyone to stop looking!” he called out the door. “Jane, what are you doing out of bed? And why wouldn’t you tell anyone where you were going?” he asked exasperatedly.
“I felt the sudden urge to stretch my legs,” Jane said, rolling her eyes.
“Jane, you’re not to wander off alone, do you understand me?” he said seriously.
Jane’s eyes narrowed. “Just because you’re a fancy Earl now it doesn’t mean you have the right to tell me what to do.” She walked slowly over to him, still wary of her balance. When she reached him, Sebastian offered her his arm and she reluctantly took it.
“Regardless of how sheltered you feel right now, Janey, we’re doing this because we love you. We’re trying to protect you because people who’ve hit their head have ended up in asylums. You could be labelled a loon, Janey, losing six years of your life isn’t normal so we’re trying to help you.”
Jane decided against putting up a fight. She didn’t have the energy and deep down inside she knew her brother was right. There had been people suffering less that had been shipped to those godforsaken places and she didn’t want to be one of them.
Sebastian led her out of the portrait gallery and into the hallway where her mother, Emilia and Daniel were all waiting for her with relieved expressions on their faces.
“Oh, darling, we were so worried about you!” Catherine exclaimed.
Jane just smiled and let her mother receive her. She’d been gone five minutes; she didn’t think it warranted such a search party. “I was just walking, mama,” she sighed.
“Why don’t we all let Jane be,” Daniel suggested to the party. “I’d wager she’d want a little peace and quiet.”
Jane shot Daniel a grateful look as she nodded.
“Alright, I suppose we can all go downstairs for an early luncheon,” Catherine nodded and gestured for everyone to go. When Daniel didn’t leave Catherine paused. “Are you coming?”
“I’ll be there shortly,” he promised her. As her family disappeared, Daniel smiled sympathetically at her. “How are you?” he asked concerned. “I haven’t had an opportunity to talk to you what with your family commandeering you.” He offered her his arm which she gladly took.
Jane raised her eyebrows. “Have you any stories to tell me?” she asked cynically.
He shook his head. “All you need to know is that you’ve been a saint to me, so I intend to be as saintlike as possible to you. If your memory comes back, then that’s brilliant, if it doesn’t, then ... I suppose we’ll have to create new memories.”
Jane couldn’t believe what the man had said. Clearly, the Jane with memories fancied this man. But nevertheless, it was incredibly kind of him to say. “I thought I remembered something before,” she admitted to him. “But it was impossible. Perhaps I do belong in an asylum if I remember seeing a ghost.”
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She remembers a ghost ... what does that mean? ;)
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