Page 2 of Victorian Bride

Mutely, still not sure what to say, Mya shook her head. The woman folded back the blanket that covered her, revealing the nightgown she wore, which was partially unbuttoned to allow access to her shoulder.

“It has not begun to bleed again, I think,” the woman said, when she had tugged the nightgown gently out of the way to check the bandage. “The doctor did wish me to tell you, though, if you woke while he was gone, to take care in using that arm. You have healing yet to do.”

It occurred to her, abruptly, that the woman had spoken of days.

“How long have I been here?” she asked, the voice leaving her throat rough with disuse. She timidly tried to clear it.

“Three days,” the woman answered. “We thought it best to keep you with us while you were unconscious, as we had no way of knowing who your family might be, and you were comfortably set up here.”

Mya wasn't sure how to say that she had no way of knowing who her family might be either. The woman was looking at her expectantly, as though she awaited some sort of answer to the unspoken question.

“I...” Mya took a breath and let it out again. “I don't remember.”

“You do not remember what, dear?”

“The accident. How I was injured. Or… my family.” She bit her lip, glancing away from the serious blue eyes studying her. “I don't remember anything before waking up here.”

There was a long moment of silence.

Mya was sure if she looked up she'd find the woman staring back at her. She had already watched over her for three days. They surely wouldn't be interested in keeping her around much longer when she couldn't pay rent or offer any useful skills. She wondered if there was protocol for that sort of thing. Would the lady, the doctor and whoever else, tell her where she might find lodging if she couldn’t afford it? When she couldn’t remember who she was or where she was from? Did she even have something to pay for her care?

“Nothing?” the woman asked finally.

Mya shook her head. “Not a thing,” she admitted. “I tried. Everything is just blank. This empty space where memories should be.”

“We will speak with the doctor about it.” The woman reached out and turned the cloth on Mya's forehead over so the cool side rested against her skin. “And you need not worry about being thrown out, if you fear that. Lottie and I would not put someone out onto the streets with nowhere to go and no memory of her kin.”

“You've given enough of your time already,” Mya said. “I shouldn't take up more of it.”

“Nonsense.” When she finally looked up, the woman smiled at her. “We wouldn't hear of you wandering about Inverness with no memory and no money to your name. All that, and the clothes you were wearing when you were found are rightly ruined. You’ve nothing suitable to wear in public, so you shall just have to stay.”

Mya opened her mouth to speak, and shut it again when she was stopped before she could start.

“You will not even think of arguing. I've made up my mind, and there's nothing to be done for it. You will remain here with us until we can find someone who knows where you are meant to be, or else until you have the means to strike out on your own. I will not hear otherwise.”

The words were sharp, but Mya could see the smile hiding beneath them, and secretly she was grateful. If she wasn't allowed to argue, she would simply have to stay, and the knowledge that she wouldn't be turned out into the streets of an unfamiliar city was more of a relief than she cared to admit.

“Thank you,” she said. “You are so kind—I don’ t know how to repay you for such generosity.”

Her benefactor lifted one shoulder in a shrug and let it fall again. “You need not, dear. We do what we believe is right, and what is right is aiding a stranger in need.”

She stood, then, and picked up a cup from the cabinet top, which she offered to Mya, helping her sit up against the pillows so she could hold the cup in her good hand and drink.

“Now then,” the woman said when she had finished drinking and given the cup back. “I imagine that you must be hungry.”

Mya hadn't been; she'd hardly had time to think of her stomach with everything else that was going on, but once the words were spoken she realized that she was, in fact, quite hungry. If she had been in bed unconscious for three days, it had been at least that long since she had eaten, and the hollow ache in her stomach made itself painfully apparent.

“Yes,” she said, voice a little smoother after the glass of water. “I could stand to eat.”

“Lottie should just be sitting down to breakfast. We shall go and join her.”

She slipped an arm under Mya's good shoulder again, helping her sit up. Mya swung her feet around to settle against the sleek wood of the floor, and slowly stood upright, using her good arm to catch herself against the mattress when her knees nearly buckled beneath her.

“Slowly,” the woman said. “Doctor MacAslan said that you would need to go carefully when you first got out of bed. You've been unconscious for quite some time.”

Slowly. Mya stood a little more carefully, the supporting arm still strong around her waist, and found herself steady on her feet.

“I'm not wearing anything suitable for breakfast,” she said, looking between her nightgown and the clothing the woman in front of her wore, but her hostess simply shook her head.