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Chapter 12

“Harriet. Harriet, wake up.” A hand grasped her shoulder and was gently shaking her awake. Slowly the voices in her head receded and she was able to open her eyes. Philip was standing over her with tousled hair and unbuttoned shirt. “You were dreaming,” he said and sat back down.

He shut his eyes but she was certain he hadn’t gone back to sleep. “Sorry I woke you,” she said.

He opened his eyes again and looked at her by the light of the moon shining through the window. “It’s all right. Do you remember what it was that made you call out?”

She thought for a moment but again nothing came. “No. There were voices, but I can’t remember what they were saying. All I remember was a dark room with a light bulb swinging from the ceiling. Other than that and a sense of panic, nothing.”

Philip looked at her strangely.

“What?”

“A light bulb swinging from the ceiling? What is that?”

“Well, it’s a light bulb…swinging from a ceiling.” What was odd about that?

“I don’t know what you mean by a light bulb,” he said again.

The image flashed in her mind again and this time she saw the switch on the wall as well and the light lit up the whole room when it was flicked on. She looked at Philip and the candle in the holder on the table beside him. What was she remembering? Was she insane? A light that lit up the whole room? That couldn’t be right.

“I’m not sure either,” she stammered. “Just a weird dream, I suppose.”

Long after Philip had gone back to sleep she thought about the light and flicked it on and off in her mind. It seemed too real to be just something she’d thought up in a dream but surely if there was such a thing as that, they wouldn’t be using candles to see at night, would they?

She listened to Philip’s soft snores coming from the chair beside her and finally allowed herself to go back to sleep.

***

The next morning Cressandra brought her the paper to read. “As long as it doesn’t hurt your head to look at it,” she said when she handed it over.

Cressandra had also brought her a small mirror to look at herself with. Both of them thought it might jar her memory, but no such luck. She looked like a stranger to herself. The swelling had receded and her eye was back to normal size now and the bruising on her face and under her jaw was almost gone. Harriet touched her head and the lump on her skull wasn’t as large as before either. Soon there would be no evidence of her mishap…except the fact she couldn’t remember who she was.

After Cressandra left, Harriet opened the paper. She flicked through most of it. Nothing seemed familiar, but she stopped at the gossip section.

A certain gentleman has been missing from the usual events these last few weeks. Perhaps something or someone has taken his interest from the marriage mart. But what, or should I say who, has captured his attention?

Harriet wondered who the mystery man was and why anyone cared that he wasn’t attending balls and parties.

It became a ritual for the next week for Cressandra to bring the paper up after breakfast. And as Harriet began to recover from her ordeal, they would chat about what had been going on in the world outside Harriet’s window.

She got stronger every day and spent most of her days sitting in the sun at the window seat. When Cressandra left, Harriet would quickly flick to the gossip section to see what was written about the mystery gentleman.

Today was a surprise.

It is a great pleasure to inform you all, dear readers, that tonight our certain elusive gentleman will be attending Lord and Lady Bingham’s ball for surely even he wouldn’t dare miss that!

Harriet was putting the paper down when Philip came into the room. She smiled up to him in greeting and handed him the paper.

“I see you are up and about today.” He smiled at her as she rose from the window seat and walked towards him. “I was hoping you were out of bed.”

She laughed. “Philip, I have been ‘out of bed’ for days now, as you well know. I just wish you would let me come out of my room.”

“That’s why I’m here. Come sit down, and I’ll tell you my plan.” He led her back to the window and handed her down to her seat. He remained standing. There wasn’t enough room on the seat for two without touching and he didn’t want to risk it. Not after the night she’d slept in his arms. A night he couldn’t erase from his thoughts.

Now she was feeling better he didn’t feel he needed to sleep in the chair next to her bed and the stronger she got, the more he felt pulled to her. He tried to limit contact with her during the day but made sure he still came to see her at night before she went to sleep.

He looked down at the paper in his hands and smiled. His sister had been visiting. He was glad Cressandra made the effort; she had been busy heading off the gossips all week. Especially since that fool woman had started writing about him in the paper. What rubbish! As if he was ever interested in the marriage mart.

“Tonight I am going to my friend’s ball. Lady Bingham always puts on a wonderful affair and I was wondering if you felt well enough to attend?”

Harriet looked at him in surprise, “Are you the certain elusive gentleman?”

It was not the reaction he was looking for. “What?”

Damsel In Distress?

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