Chapter Text
She wakes to a foreign room.
Pale walls, frilly curtains and a sister she knows.
“Edwina,” Kate breathes, blinking the brightness from her eyes. The sun is merciless and her head is throbbing.
Her sister turns from her chair, a gasp of delight escaping her. In an instant, she’s on her feet and clambering to stand beside Kate’s side, scooping her hand up.
“Mama, Lady Danbury, make haste!” Edwina calls, her beautiful face lighting up. “She’s awake.”
Kate blinks against the light, groaning as she hears footsteps ring out down the hall. Suddenly the room is full, hands pulling at her own, her mother letting out a laugh.
“Dearest? Do you remember?” Mary asks.
Kate’s hand comes to her forehead, wincing at the pain. She can hardly think let alone speak. It feels like a hot rod is being branded onto the corners of her mind.
“Send for the doctor,” demands a stranger with a cane, calling into the hall.
“What happened?” Kate croaks.
“You fell, didi,” Edwina says. “Surely you remember?”
Kate didn’t.
“You mustn’t overwhelm her, Miss Edwina.” The woman with the cane is watching her with scrutiny in her gaze. “She is obviously still ill.”
“Are you, didi?”
“My head hurts,” Kate admits, feeling panic start to claw up her throat. “I can’t seem to recall what happened.”
Mary looks to the stranger with concern. “Lady Danbury…?”
The name is familiar; an old friend of Kate’s mother, who had agreed to sponsor their family for the season. But Kate couldn’t remember ever meeting the Lady in question, nor could she remember departing the ship which had taken them from their home. Her head throbs painfully again.
“It is to be expected,” Lady Danbury says. “All shall be well, Lady Sharma. The doctor shall see to it.”
The doctor was a short man, with greying hair and lines embedded into his skin. Her father once remarked that a doctor carried the stress of the world on his shoulders – and Doctor Linacre paid the price with his looks.
“What is the last thing you remember?” he asks, prodding the back of her head with gentle fingers.
Her family – and Lady Danbury – stare at her with unabashed anticipation.
“Boarding the ship,” Kate says, hands grasping her sheets. She suspects it’s the wrong answer.
“You don’t recall docking in England?”
“I remember touring the deck,” Kate recalls, “and unpacking in our room.”
“What of the season?” Edwina asks, eyes wide. “What of these past weeks? Surely you have to remember.”
“I’m sorry, bon.” Kate shakes her head. “I can’t…”
“What of our time in the country?” Edwin presses. “We played games and you went shooting. Do you remember?”
Kate swallows, feeling hot.
“Miss Edwina,” Lady Danbury cautions, “you must let the doctor finish his assessment.”
Doctor Linacre tips her head back and Kate stares up at the canopy, taking in the fine embroidery and stitched stars. She can feel the throbbing begin to ease as her neck is stretched.
“It is quite peculiar,” Doctor Linacre concludes as he lets her head rest. “But I have seen it before.”
“What, Sir?”
“A certain forgetfulness,” Doctor Linacre says. “Jockeys have shown signs of it in the past, after a hard fall. They may spend a few days without memory of recent events before their recollections improve.”
“So, she will remember?” Mary asks, clasping her locket with a strained expression. “It won’t be forever?”
“In my experience, I have only ever seen one patient lose their memory completely,” Doctor Linacre says. “I am confident Miss Sharma shall remember everything in the coming days.”
“Is there anything you would recommend to hasten her recovery?”
“She needs rest, Lady Sharma,” Doctor Linacre says. “And you must be patient. My advice would be to allow her to return to her normal habits once she feels well enough. Then, I am sure, she will remember what she has lost.”
“What of large social events?” Lady Danbury asks. “There are still quite a few balls to be attended.”
“As I said, Lady Danbury, normal habits and routines are only helpful for recovery.” Doctor Linacre closes his bag. “It is my theory that familiar faces, smells, tastes and experiences will all be prudent to Miss Sharma regaining her memories. If that is a ball, then so be it. But I would urge caution, for any undue stress would surely only be a setback. Unwelcome information or people that would overwhelm Miss Sharma could be… disastrous for her recovery.”
Mary and Edwina share a look.
“Then we shall protect her,” Edwina says, brown eyes warm, desperate for all to be well. “And Kate shall be well.”
“Here, here.” Lady Danbury claps her hands together. “It seems all Miss Sharma needs is time.”
“She’s awake?”
Viscount Anthony Bridgerton feels like he can finally breathe after days under water. His lungs expand with their relief, laughter bubbling up in his throat, before his chest tightens. The taste of laughter becomes the taste of tears and he must bury his head in his hands to prevent his mother from seeing him weep like a boy.
He has barely been able to sleep for the thought of that day in the rain. Kate had been unconscious and bleeding, her body limp in his arms, her breath coming out uneven. Anthony could still feel the blood on his hands, could still feel the weight of her in his arms.
His mother sits beside him, hand going to his back.
“It is much needed good news,” his mother says, nodding her head. Anthony pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to keep his tears at bay. Viscounts did not weep in the skirts of their mothers.
“Mrs Wilson did hear some odd whispers from the maids, though.”
Anthony wipes his eyes.
“It appears Miss Sharma is having trouble with her memory,” Violet says, gloves twisting between her fingers. “They say she can’t remember the events of the season.”
His head snaps up. “I beg your pardon?”
“They must be wrong, though,” Violet insists. “I am sure it is a simple misunderstanding.”
“It’s nonsense,” Anthony concludes. “There is no possibility that she could have forgotten these past few weeks. It is unheard of.”
Anthony thinks of the season; of their time spent at Aubrey Hall and the bee that nearly derailed his honour. He thinks of the night spent in the gardens of Bridgerton House, of stolen kisses and longing gazes. He thinks of her, in a way an honourable gentleman should never think of an unmarried woman. He thinks of lilies and the taste of cinnamon.
“Of course,” Violet says. “They must be wrong.”
Anthony stands, putting his papers on the table and fetching his jacket. “I must go to her.”
“Anthony, she has only just woken up,” Violet says. “You must give her time to recover. She won’t be in any state to see visitors.”
Anthony contemplates his mothers suggestion, before shaking his head. “Then I shall simply call on the Sharma’s and give them my regards. I need to know for myself.”
Violet Bridgerton follows her son as he leaves the study. “Anthony, I do not think the Sharmas would appreciate your intrusion.”
“I shall not take up much of their time.” The Viscount nearly runs down the stairs, his steps loud against the marble. “I will merely inquire as to how Miss Sharma is feeling—”
“Then send a letter, Anthony,” Violet snaps, her voice echoing through the entrance hall. She stands at the rail of the landing, watching her eldest son stop in his tracks. “The Sharma’s need their peace at a time like this. Kate needs her peace.”
Anthony stares at the door, a war within himself.
“Give them time, Anthony,” Violet says. “Time is the best medicine, after all.”
“Are you sure you’re well enough to be walking, didi?”
Kate straightens her shift, suppressing a sigh at the way her sister and mother cluck at her heels. She knows they are just trying to be helpful, worried about her fitness, but she is intent on getting out of bed.
“I feel fine, bon.” Kate moves to her chest, wincing at the way her sides ache when she retrieves one of her gowns.
“Kate, let the maids do that.” Edwina grabs her sister's hands, pulling the gown from her and laying it on the bed. “You’re still weak – it’s only been a few hours since you woke up.”
“And I am much recovered, bon,” Kate insists. “You heard what Doctor Linacre said. I must return to my normal habits and routines.”
Edwina starts to smile. “Kate, you don’t even know what those are.”
Kate is stumped, because for once, her little sister has bested her.
She sits on the bed, leaning against the pillar of the canopy. “You’re right. I don’t know what we do here.” She pats the duvet beside her. “Will you tell me?”
Edwina sits down with grace, always the perfect lady.
“How has it been?” Kate asks, taking Edwina’s hands in her own. “Do you have a suite of suitors? Any proposals? There’s no ring.”
Edwina’s eyes follow her sister's train of thought, staring at her empty left hand. She tries to smile, but it comes out strained. “There was one man, but… nothing came of it.”
Kate sighs. “I’m sorry, bon.”
“Please don’t apologise,” Edwina says, a sharpness to her tone. Kate looks up in surprise. “It’s just… you have said those words too many times in recent days. I have had enough apologies.”
Kate is confused and before she can ask what her sister is talking about, Edwina has changed the topic.
“And it hasn’t all been bad,” Edwina says. “The Queen named me her incomparable.”
Kate nearly – nearly – squeals. “Bon, that is incredible.”
Edwina manages a tight smile, before standing. “It has been quite the season, sister. I’m sure you’ll remember everything in the coming days.”
Kate watches her sister as she folds the gown on the bed, returning the fine silks to the chest with a focused expression. Gone is the girl she boarded the ship with, her excitement for England and the upcoming season. In her place is a woman who has been exposed to the reality of the ton; her expressions measured and her words careful.
Kate feels disgruntled that she has somehow missed a transformation of a sister so dear. Yet she was there for every moment, or so they assured her. She just can’t remember any details of the season so far. Every ball, every dance, every suitor of Edwina’s is simply gone from her mind. Not lost, the doctor insists, but missing for a time.
“Is something the matter, Edwina?” Kate asks, watching as her sister closes the chest. “You seem… displeased with me.”
Edwina is shaking her head before Kate can finish speaking, taking her hands in hers once again. “Kate, I’m not unhappy. I'm so relieved that you’re awake.”
“But you’re keeping things from me,” Kate says. “Bon, I can see that you’re holding back. You know you can tell me anything.”
“But the doctor said we should not overwhelm you,” Edwina murmurs, trying to be gentle with her oldest sister. “Mama and I have agreed that you do not need to worry about things that have happened over these past weeks. It is already done and I would not want to see you regress.”
“Are there things I should be worried about?” Kate asks, getting to her feet. “What has happened, Edwina?”
Edwina purses her lips, slipping from her sister's grasp and turning to the window. “A great many things. This season has been most eventful, Kate. But it is all in the past, now. You needn’t worry about it when you will remember everything in the coming days.”
“But if you are cross with me, Edwina, I want to know why.”
Edwina sighs, finally turning to face Kate.
“You lied to me.”
Kate stands in shock.
“The Sheffield’s called on us,” Edwina explains, “and your plan was laid bare. It was an uncomfortable dinner.”
“I’m so sorry,” breathes Kate. “I only wished the best for you, Edwina, surely you must know that.”
Edwina waves her hand in dismissal. “And you have apologised for it, didi. Truly, you mustn’t fret about something that we have already dealt with and moved on from. It would be silly of you to dwell.”
Kate nods, before asking, “So what came of it? Did they agree to supply the dowry?”
“As I said,” Edwina begins, “it was an uncomfortable dinner.”
Kate sits on the bed, her breath coming out short. There was no hope for them, then. Her plan had fallen to pieces and she couldn’t even recall why. Their family had no money, no prospects. How was Edwina to marry without the fortune that the Sheffield’s had promised to supply?
“Relax, didi.” Edwina smiles. “It is fine. Lady Danbury has agreed to sponsor us for another season and we shall stay in England.”
Kate lets out a breath of relief. “Oh, what brilliant news.”
“She is quite the woman,” Edwina says. “You like her very much.”
Edwina glances out the window again, before something falls over her expression. Gathering her skirts in her hands, Edwina says, “Try to get some rest, didi. I’ll have the maids send up some dinner later and we dine together here.”
Kate’s objections fall quiet on her lips as her sister nearly runs from the room, leaving her alone. She may not have all her memories, but she has enough to know that was bizarre.
“Viscount Bridgerton.”
Edwina Sharma looks like her elder sister when she is angry. A storm dressed in a pretty gown and a scowl hidden by a fair amount of rouge. Beautiful, even when in the possession of a foul mood.
“Miss Edwina.” Anthony cocks his head. “I have come to ask—”
“If you are here to call on Kate, she will not see you,” Edwina interrupts. “She is still ill and the doctor says she needs to avoid stress.”
Anthony winces. “I understand.”
“Good.”
Edwina turns on her heel to leave, before Anthony says, “I would ask for an update on her condition.”
“An update?” Edwina shrugs. “She’s awake.”
“My mother has heard she has… forgotten things.”
“Who told her that?” Edwina demands, looking more forceful than Anthony has ever seen her.
“The maid’s gossip,” Anthony explains, his expression desperate. “I just want to know how she is, Miss Edwina. I do not wish to harm you.”
Edwina crosses her arms, shaking her head. She eyes him with aggravation before she finally sighs. “She is well, other than her memory. She doesn’t remember the season.”
Anthony lets out a shattered breath. “Nothing? Not even the wedding?”
“The last thing she remembers is boarding the ship from India,” Edwina explains, feeling guilty for being so sharp with a man who is obviously in a certain amount of pain. Stepping closer, Edwina regards the Viscount with clear eyes – watching as his face contracts in torment. “The doctor says everything will come back within days.”
“So, it’s temporary?” Anthony asks. “She will remember everything soon?”
“So the doctor says,” Edwina affirms with a nod. She regards him for a moment longer, cocking a brow. “It bothers you greatly that she doesn’t remember you, doesn’t it?”
His head snaps up. “It bothers me greatly that she is ill.”
“I can see it now so clearly, my lord, how much you care for her,” Edwina says. “If I was a betting woman, I may even say you love her.”
“Miss Edwina…”
“There is no shame in it, my lord,” Edwina explains. “I love my sister too—”
“I do not love Miss Sharma,” Anthony insists, cutting her off. “I… care for her, yes, but to say I love her would be a falsehood.”
Edwina stares at him for a moment too long before she simply says, “I don’t believe you.”
“You don’t need to.”
“Love or no love, my sister shan’t be seeing you for quite some time,” Edwina says. “It is decided that she will stay here until she is well.”
“So she will not return to India?” Anthony breathes, a lightness in his chest.
“No, we’ll all be staying in England until next season. Kate is in no shape to be wandering the house, let alone making the journey back home. Although, I fear once she regains her memories, she will be quite keen on leaving this country.” Edwina laughs. “I have never seen my sister so intent on leaving her family. Tell me, Lord Bridgerton, what did you do to make my sister want to travel that far away from England?”
“She said it was always the plan to return to India.”
Edwina was raised to be the perfect lady. She knew the perfect response to every question, the perfect step to every dance, the perfect quip to make a crowd laugh. She was raised to be the wife every man would so desire, but in this moment, standing before a man she left at the altar, Edwina Sharma can only roll her eyes in a manner even Lady Whistledown would deem quite undignified.
“Perhaps,” Edwina says. “But she would stay if you asked her too, my lord. You only needed the courage to ask.”
Anthony swallows the lump in his throat. “I suppose I shall wait until she is well.”
Edwina tampers her smile. “I will send word when she is herself again. Until then, stay away from Danbury House, my lord.”
Kate watches the man leave the house from her window, wondering if he is one of Edwina’s suitors. He is certainly handsome and by the finery of his clothes, she knows he must be a man of stature.
The stranger halts at the steps of his carriage, placing his top hat on his head. He glances back to the house, his expression torn. Kate thinks his face is almost perfect, exactly what she had imagined for Edwina when they had boarded the ship all those weeks ago.
Yet it seems only days ago that they had left Bombay for English shores. The thought makes her stomach twist, a lump the size of a pebble in her throat. She had no memory of her sister's first dance at a ball, no memory of the men who had sought Edwina’s hand. No memory of the Queen declaring her own little sister the diamond of the season!
Kate wants to ruin her room at the very thought. She had waited years for this moment, waited years for Edwina to bloom into the very lady she had been raised to be, and Kate had nothing to remember it by. A simple fall from a horse eroding the most important moments from her mind.
It feels all too unfair, as if God is laughing at her. The spinster elder sister, too tall for most men, too outspoken for most men, too forgettable for most men, forgetting her own success. Edwina’s joy was gone and something had happened between them – their relationship changed.
Kate lets out a sob, her head falling into hands as she openly weeps. She feels just as she did when she was five-years-old. Her mother had recently died and her father – her beloved appa – was bringing home a new Mama for her. She had grown since then, had known the world since then, but little had changed how truly lost she feels.
LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS
1814
Gentle reader, I bring you news quite shocking indeed. Miss Kate Sharma has awoken from her recent tumble with no memory of her time in England, or her sisters recent struggle down the aisle. I hear the doctors believe it to be a temporary condition caused by her knock to the head, but one has to wonder if Miss Kate Sharma would prefer to forget the events of a rather disastrous season.
No matter, Viscount Bridgerton was spotted leaving Danbury House only hours after the eldest Sharma sister woke up. Is there truth to be found in the whispers that one sister was forsaken for the other? This, gentle reader, is a mystery This Author cannot answer just yet.