Free Elizabeth Mansfield by Mother's Choice

breast. "Lord Inglesby is right, Cicely," she said, forcing herself to stay calm. "We must wait and speak to the doctor. Come with me downstairs." And she pulled the weeping Cicely from the room.
    Hickham led them down to the morning room, where a breakfast buffet had been set. Charlie Percy was seated at the table, sipping a cup of hot coffee. He got to his feet as they entered. "Good morning, your ladyship. I am Lord Lucas. I met you and Miss Beringer several months ago in London, if you recall."
    "Yes, of course we recall," Eva said testily. "Nothing has impaired my memory. Or Cicely's either." She dropped down upon one of the chairs and tried to calm herself. "Don't just stand there, girl," she added almost automatically. "Say your how-de-dos to Lord Lucas."
    But Cicely was too overwrought to cease her weeping long enough to acknowledge his presence.
    Charlie, taking no offense, made a leg to both ladies and helped the weeping girl to a chair. "I take it you've seen our patient," he said with what Eva felt was an unwarrantedly cheerful air.
    His innocent remark brought on a fresh flood of tears from the young lady. "Mama looks as though she was m-m-mauled! "she wailed.
    Charles, though he understood that the first sight of Lady Beringer's bruised face would naturally be a shock to her daughter, nevertheless could not admire such a watering pot. "You mustn't take on so, Miss Beringer," he said, going to the buffet and pouring her a cup of steaming tea. "I know matters seem appalling right now, but your mother will surely recover. Bumps and bruises, no matter how disfiguring and painful at first, do mend remarkably quickly."
    "But she d-d-doesn't even re-m-m-member me!" Cicely wept.
    "Doesn't she?" He exchanged a disappointed look with Hickham. "We rather hoped she'd recover her memory after a night's sleep."
    Eva looked up at him in immediate alarm. "Did the doctor expect her to?" she asked worriedly.
    "Dr. Swan thought it quite possible."
    Eva covered her mouth to keep from crying out in her distress. Cicely, with a choked groan, dropped her head on her arms on the table. "How can I bear it to have my own mother not remember me?"
    Charles clenched his teeth to overcome a feeling of impatience toward the girl. "It seems to me, Miss Beringer, that all this must be a great deal worse for your mother. How do you suppose she's feeling about being unable to recognize you? "
    Cicely lifted her head and stared at him, her swollen mouth dropping open."Y-Yes, of course. You're quite right." She wiped her cheeks with the back of a shaking hand. "It must be a nightmare for her. I'm a thoughtless wretch."
    Charles set the teacup down at her elbow. "Yes," he said callously, eyeing her with cold dispassion, "I rather think you are.
    Upstairs in the invalid's bedroom, Jeremy was attempting to console the trembling Cassie. "Please don't look like that," he said, seating himself beside her and taking her hand. "You will remember everything in time. Dr. Swan said so."
    Cassie peered up at his face, which, of all the faces she'd seen looking down at her, was the one with which she was becoming most familiar. "Did he?" she asked, pulling her hand from his and grasping his lapels as if to keep herself from drowning.
    Jeremy took her hands in his. "He assured me of it. In fact, he said—"
    There was a tap at the door, and the doctor himself came into the room. "And how is our patient this morning?" he boomed with hearty good cheer. But then he saw her anguished face. "Oh, dear," he said, his smile fading, "what has happened here?"
    Cassie shuddered and hid her face in Jeremy's shoulder. Jeremy threw the doctor a worried look. "She's had visitors. Her family."  
    "And she didn't remember them?" Jeremy shook his head.
    The doctor's face fell. "Do you remember my name?" he asked, approaching the bed and lifting her head to look into her eyes.
    "Dr. Swan, isn't it?" she offered hesitantly.  
    "Yes, good!"
    "But I still don't remember my own