Page 13 of Victorian Bride

It felt more like a memory than a dream. She pushed the thought aside, preferring to listen to Lottie talk about dresses and what they would wear.

***

Preparing for a party, as it turned out, was a lot more work than Mya would have expected, especially since they were not the hosts. But there were apparently dresses to be made, and corsets to be fitted. Gloves and shoes, along with hats to buy.

The days flew past in a blur of activity. At the same time, Mya’s shoulder healed as the good doctor had said it would. She grew excited about the party and thankful that the doctor wasn’t looking for her family. For some reason, it felt like everything she needed was close by. That there wasn’t a family looking for her. He questioned her again about her memories, but didn’t press her. Mya had the thought that the doctor assumed she’d run away and was pretending not to remember. She let him think that without a shred of guilt. She was sure her memory would come back eventually. Until then, she was going to enjoy the company of Lottie and Eleanor.

Lottie had found out most of the guest list, and spent some time each evening coaching Mya on who would be there. Most of the names were easily forgotten, the details about their owners not important enough to truly keep Mya's interest. She didn't see any reason to know everything about everyone at all times. Surely there were better, more relaxed, ways to handle socializing.

One guest, however, she did care about.

“Lord McGregor will be there, of course,” Lottie said two nights before the party.

Mya paused in the middle of examining her reflection in the mirror, one of the new hats perched on her head. “He will?” she asked, trying to pitch the question in such a tone that it did not sound as though she cared.

Lottie, of course, saw right through it. “There, and, as far as anyone knows, still single. Things may not stay that way for long, unless I completely miss my guess, so if you want a chance I say take it before it is gone.”

“Why would it not stay that way?”

“He is a very eligible bachelor,” Lottie said, lounging across the bed with her hair undone and her shoes off. “He has quite an adequate salary, and of course his own estate. And it’s hardly a stretch to call him handsome.”

“I'm not actually looking to marry him, you know,” Mya pointed out.

“No? What is it that you seek to do, then? Just get him in bed?”

Mya blushed instantly. She felt the heat in her cheeks and saw the color in her reflection in the mirror. “I think that is rather frowned upon, actually. I thought I would simply leave him be.” Mya shrugged. “Just because I had a dream about the man does not mean that I need to start hearing wedding bells. I didn't like him when I first met him. I am not going to fawn all over him now.”

“It is Kayden you ought to be trying that disinterested act on, not me.”

Mya froze. “I-I beg your pardon? Did you say Kayden?”

“Yes,” Lottie said, completely unaware of what she had just done. “Kayden McGregor. I thought we had told you his first name.”

Mutely, Mya shook her head. What was she meant to say to that? That she had known it without being told? That would suggest that she had somehow known Lord Kayden McGregor before the accident, but that was impossible. He hadn't told her, and he hadn't known who she was. Yet, that wanton dream of hers had him calling his name. There had to be some other explanation.

Lottie remained a few minutes longer, trying to engage Mya in some other conversation about some of the attendees. Most of it was gossip. When all she got were single-syllable answers and the occasional nod, she gave up with a sigh and left Mya to herself, heading out to find Ella or someone else she could talk to.

When the room was empty, Mya sank down on the edge of the bed, running a hand through her hair.

She had known his name, in the dream. Maybe, she thought, she had heard it somewhere. From someone that she couldn't remember. Bits and pieces of her memory seemed to be coming back occasionally. Small things, like rolling hills of country side, a melody of a song she knew, things that were not helpful to who she was, but it was at least a start. Once in the carriage, there had been a view of the hillside that she swore she had seen before, except without the houses in it. Maybe it had been a painting or something, she wasn’t quite sure. So she kept the thoughts to herself, not quite ready to share. She thought of Kayden again. Perhaps that name had just been lurking in the back of her mind. He was, as Lottie had said, quite rich. And his name was well known in the area. If she had come from a town nearby, which seemed likely, she would have heard it. The dream had simply supplied it when her conscious mind had not been aware enough of the information's existence for her to recall it outside of a dream.

That was it.

And yet, the explanation, no matter how much sense it made, did not satisfy the nervous knot in the pit of her stomach, or the question of why she felt as though she had known him when there was nothing to indicate that she had ever met him before the day in the market.

Chapter 7

The party, or somewhat of a ball as Eleanora called it, was being held on the other side of Inverness, at the estate of Mr. and Mrs. Auteberry. That meant a coach ride longer than the ones Mya had yet taken. She was grateful that her shoulder seemed to be nearly healed; the jolts of the coach over the ruts in the road hardly pained her at all.

“Now,” Eleanora said as they rattled along. “Is there anything that you should like to know about proper manners in attending a party?”

She had already given Mya a rather basic explanation of the most important rules, some of which seemed incredibly silly. The rule about a woman not crossing the room at a dance without an escort had made Mya laugh, and Eleanora had shrugged when she asked why it was so terribly necessary. And odd that Mya didn’t really know the rules of conduct. She should, shouldn’t she?

“In truth,” she had said, “I’m not particularly fond of it myself, always having a man hanging on my arm, but one does what one must in polite society.”

Mya considered what she knew, and whether there was anything else that she ought to be aware of. It was difficult to gauge what she didn't know, considering that she didn't know it. And the more rules she knew, the more she would have to keep track of. If there were any that Eleanora had forgotten, Mya would let them stay that way, and truthfully plead ignorance if she failed in their execution.

“No,” she said. “I’m sure there are things that I do not know, but I have enough rules running about in my head. If I learn any more there isn't going to be room for myself.”