"Your Grace, I have completed my examination on the young woman. She is unharmed physically, apart from a few scrapes which will heal, but her memory is another matter," the doctor said.

"So when will her memory come back? Her family must be missing her by now," Edmund said.

"My lord, how the mind works is still not known, and I cannot tell when the young lady will regain her memory. There is also the possibility that she may never regain it in full, or at all. You just cannot tell what will happen when there's a head injury. The important thing is to keep her comfortable. She mustn't try to force herself to remember. That may do more harm than good."

"Thank you, doctor. Jarvis will see you out," the duke dismissed the doctor and turned to Edmund. "We must search for her family. Where did your carriage run into her? We should start there. You said she was on foot and without any shawl, so she must have lived locally."

Edmund gulped. There was no way he was going to reveal his whereabouts to the duke. He would surely be disinherited.

"It wasn't far from here. I'll take a footman, and we can look into it," he said, hoping the duke wouldn't detect his deceit.

"Do it now. Her family will be very worried. Has she said anything to you?"

"No, Your Grace. She seems very frightened by her memory loss. I will leave shortly."

Edmund was feeling guilty, but what else could he do. That street was no place for a lady and she may not want anyone to know that she was there. At least, that was what he told himself in an effort to assuage his conscience. However, he did knock on door after door of the grand houses, but no one was missing any such young lady.

It perplexed him. How could no one know of her? She was so delicate, like a butterfly, he mused to himself. He told himself to stop thinking of her like that. He had to find her family. She wasn't some stray animal he could keep, such had been his propensity as a child. In fact, he hadn't thought about his friends or lack of excitement all day.

Edmund returned home without any more knowledge about the girl than he had left with. Although, it struck him that he had enjoyed thinking about someone else for a change. He hadn't quite realized how selfish he had become with his new status in life.

"His Grace and the young lady are in the dining room, my lord." Jarvis greeted him, and Edmund made his way to his room to change.

"Ah, here he is now. This is Edmund Loftus, the Marquess of Cholmosley. Edmund, we have decided to call our visitor, Faith. It is with the Lord's good grace that He has brought her into our lives, and we have faith that we shall restore her with her family."

Edmund bowed at the young woman who smiled back at him.

"It must seem very strange for you not to remember who you are. I cannot imagine it myself," Edmund said although the duke couldn't help but make a sound.

"It is strange. I know so many other things, like which fork to use, how to address His Grace, but yet when it comes to me, there is nothing. Did I have anything with me?" Faith asked.

"It was just your purse, m'lady and I'm sure after a good night's rest, you will remember more so we may unite you with your family. They must be distraught," Edmund said.

He couldn't take his eyes off her. She had prettiest green eyes he had ever seen. There was something so pure about her, so innocent. Her skin was almost translucent. He noticed she had made a similar impression on the duke, who talked incessantly to their guest. Edmund had seen him like this before, but only with his duchess.

"You really do look familiar to me. I must know your mother; perhaps that's it. You would get your looks from your mother, you know."

"Your Grace is so very kind. I do hope you remember more. I must confess to feeling perturbed by my loss of memory.” She turned her gaze to Edmund, “His Grace said you were to search the street you had found me on, my lord. Were you able to find anything?"

The melancholy look on her face made Edmund feel sad that he hadn't found any information on her. He didn't wish to be the cause of her being upset.

"Please consider this your home, young lady. We will be delighted to have your company. We will figure something out," the duke motioned that dinner was over, and Alice, who was now called Faith, was escorted back to her room.

As she lay in bed, she wondered who she was. Was she living in London or just visiting? Something the duke had said about the Season seemed vaguely familiar, but in a more general sense than specific. Was someone waiting for her to come home? Her head still hurt, and she rubbed her temples. At least I am comfortable. It seemed a relief to her to be in a bed and for the smell of cleanliness to abound. She thought that was a strange thought to have as she snuggled into bed. She prayed the Lord would lead her home as she began to drift off into sleep.

Meanwhile, Betty was frantic. Jim had searched the streets to and from the pawnshop, but no one had seen anything until a boy told him how a grand lady had been knocked over by a carriage and the gentleman had taken her away. Jim scratched his head. Alice wasn't a lady; she was one of them. It must have been someone else.

"She may have got more money than she reckoned and just left, Betty. You need to go to sleep. She'll come back when she needs help."

Betty couldn't sleep. She hadn't told Jim how Alice had dressed up. He didn't like airs and graces on anyone.

"Dear Jim, she is a gentle soul and not really able to take care of herself."

“She’ll be fine, Betty. Please, go to bed. We can search again in the morning if you wish.”

Betty eventually fell asleep.

As Alice woke the next morning, it took her a moment to remember where she was. To her dismay, there was still no sense of who she was. All she could recall was waking in the presence of strangers. Her dress had been cleaned and was hanging for her to wear as she got ready to go downstairs.

"Anything come back to you, Miss Faith?" His Grace asked as she entered the room.

Alice shook her head. She couldn't remember anything. The young marquess sat opposite her and she felt his focus on her.

"We must arrange for some clothing for you, Miss Faith. It will not do for you to be without a change.” He turned to his butler, “Jarvis, would you see to that? Her Grace's dresses, I think. I think Edmund should take you out in the chaise, so you can see if any place appears familiar to you, or indeed, you may meet people who know you."

Edmund waited patiently for Alice. He was feeling excited at the prospect of showing her around Hyde Park. While he felt sad that she couldn't remember anything about her life, at the same time, he thought it must be wondrous to see the world from a different perspective. Perhaps he should have feigned memory loss when the duke tackled him over his scandals, he chuckled to himself.

"My lord, my apologies for keeping you," Alice was wearing a deep blue pelisse which only served to enhance her skin tone and her reddish hair. He couldn't take his eyes off her.

"It seems the late duchess and I have a similar build. As there is a little nip in the air, Jarvis insisted that I wear this, so I do not catch a chill."

Faith seemed a little hesitant to wear such a fine piece of clothing, but Edmund was too enraptured by her beauty to notice. He proffered his arm and escorted her to the chaise. The duke had decided to join them, to act as chaperone. He didn't wish the young lady's family to think he wasn't taking care of her reputation.

Edmund addressed Faith, "I have asked the duke if I may escort you to Almack's this week…"

The duke interrupted Edmund, "I do not feel it would be fitting for your family to come upon you at a party, my dear," the duke smiled at her as he sat across from her.

"Here we are, along the ladies mile. Does this look familiar to you?" Edmund asked, but Faith was perplexed as they passed other carriages and greeted their occupiers.

While it was still early days in the Season, the young lady with the duke and the marquess was causing quite a stir. Edmund was one of the more sought-after young men of the ton. He thought it strange that before his elevation to the duke's heir, mothers had taken little notice of him, whereas now invitations were coming fast and furiously. It pleased the duke that he'd find his heir a wife. A man in a responsible position needed a good woman. A wife was missing from Edmund's life.

"Driver, stop," the duke called out. When the carriage came to a halt, he said, "Go for a walk, you two."

"His Grace isn't very subtle, is he?" Edmund said as he walked alongside Alice.

"You and he have been very courteous, and I am very grateful for the hospitality. I only wish I could remember."

Alice looked away as a tear came to her eye. Why couldn't she remember? And why wasn't anyone looking for her? It didn't seem possible that she would be in London for the Season and be alone. Young ladies were never left alone.

"As I know nothing of my own life, tell me about yours, my lord. I take it you are not promised to anyone," she asked. She didn't want him to have an arrangement with anyone.

"No, Miss Faith. Although I am essentially at His Grace's mercy at the present time, and I am sure he plans that by the end of the Season, I shall be betrothed. Somewhere in London is my future wife, perhaps she is here, in Hyde Park," he teased.

"I sense a great sadness in you, my lord, if you do not mind me saying so. You turn the most serious things into a joke," her observation took him off guard.

"Miss Faith, I have been thrust into a position I wasn't trained for. It hasn't been easy, although His Grace does not seem to understand that. You seem very secure within yourself and look very comfortable in our company. I am not so sure I would be the same if it were I who had the memory loss. Does it not scare you not to know who you are?"

"Ah, changing the subject. I do not feel afraid. I have faith in the Lord; I know that. I do not know specifics about myself, but I would not say that I am scared. I'm more curious. Tell me, my lord, do you often feel scared?"

"All the time, but in your company, your graciousness gives me a sense of calm," Edmund stopped, surprised at how forthcoming he was.

Usually, others told him their sob stories, and he stayed quiet, never feeling that he was worthy and therefore, accepting any kindness whether real or imagined that came his way. Alice was very different than the young women he usually spent time with. It didn't matter their class; the elite were husband-hunting and he was the grand prize, or the down-at-heel were looking for money. No, Miss Faith was very different indeed, he told himself. He felt secure in her company.

"You flatter me, my lord, but we do not know if this is the real me," she flashed a smile at him and his heart fluttered.

"I think losing one's memory reveals the true self. You do not know your fears, and therefore, they hold no power over you." Edmund fell silent as a dashing young man approached them.

"Muddy, my dear friend, where have you been?" the man tipped his hat at Alice, "And please introduce me to your lovely companion."

"Not now Bosley, His Grace is not far behind. It's the first day I've been out in ages. May I introduce, Miss Faith? This is Jonathan Landslow, Earl of Bosley. Well, we'd better be heading back now."

"It's a pleasure. I haven't seen you before."

"It's a long story, my lord," Alice said.

"Muddy, are you coming to Almack's? I believe it's to be a hoot this Season." Lord Bosley didn't take his eyes off Faith as he spoke to Edmund.

"We'll see. I bid you goodbye. His Grace is calling us back to the carriage. Good day, Bosley."

Lord Bosley watched them walk back to the duke, whose face was like thunder. The girl with Edmund looked very familiar, but he couldn't place her. Oh well, he thought, I am sure I will see her again this Season.

"Why does he call you Muddy?" Faith asked.

"We grew up together, and Muddy is from Edmund. Apparently, no one lets me grow up," Edmund looked at the duke as he spoke.

"Perhaps if you behaved like a gentleman, then that would change," the duke snapped at him.

Faith spoke, to calm the duke’s distress, "Well, it was wonderful to be out today. Thank you, gentlemen, you have been most kind to me. Your Grace, his Lordship told me how he came to be your heir. It is very sad. And with you losing your wife, very sad indeed. You are each other's family now. Isn't it wonderful that you have each other? Your Grace has so much wisdom to pass on, and you, my lord, need guidance so you can grow into your role. You must explain your needs to His Grace. Both of you learning from the other. That's all we ever need, isn't it, to belong. To know that someone is there to care about you."

The men looked at each other. She was right. They only had each other, and there she was, without a memory of who she was, calm and serene as they returned to Mayfair.

Would she be the facilitator to bring peace to the household? The duke had noticed how Edmund watched her. He seemed manlier in her company, and not because she was needy or weak in any way. It was her strength that she shared with Edmund. The duke felt it, too. She was so like his deceased wife in many ways. A man needed a woman like that. A woman who could gently steer without leading, who supported her husband with wise words. Even within the two days of her arrival, she had made an impact in the duke's home. He looked forward to seeing her, and had changed his habit of working before breakfast. He wanted to be in her company.

It hadn't escaped his notice how Edmund had moved away from Bosley, that wretched fellow, whom the duke believed responsible for Edmund's debauchery. Edmund's move was a protective one. He had stood between Miss Faith and Bosley, not that they were aware of it at the time, but the duke was an observant man. She was bringing about a change in Edmund too.

Jarvis had informed the duke that the man seeking restitution for Edmund's part in a serious matter was, in fact, a member of Bosley's household. It was a ruse and no doubt some matter that Bosley was mixed up in. The duke had never liked Bosley, nor indeed, his father before him. The duke never understood a man who wanted to succeed by causing upset to others.