Three

      It was several days since the shock of seeing Alex again had caused Diana to jump and her breath to accelerate. When he had called her Dee…no one else in this world had ever called her Dee. It was a symbol of the bond between them, that name.

      But as the time passed, and the unexpectedness of seeing him began to wear off, she found herself more able to steel herself when she was in his presence. He was busy about the estate and she often didn’t see him until dinnertime. There, surrounded by the rest of the family, it was easier to be cool and composed, to let herself pretend that she was indifferent to him.

      She wanted to be indifferent to him. Whatever had been between them had been irrevocably severed three years ago, when he had chosen to leave her. She believed that firmly. What she had felt then, and what had happened to her after his departure, was a chasm between them that could never be bridged.

      He showed me how unimportant I was to him, she told herself. Now that he is home he thinks he can pick up right where he left off. Well, he can’t. I don’t need him. I don’t need to marry a wealthy earl. I need to marry a steady sort of man with a comfortable income, someone who I can rely on, someone who will be a good father to my children. Someone who will be there when I need him. Not like Alex.

      Diana was very aware that she and her mother lived on the edge of poverty. If it had not been for Lady Standish providing them with a home and some social standing, she would have grown up in rented rooms in a city like Bath. Her father had been the younger son of a squire and the only money he had was his army pay. After he died, the Sherwoods had lived on a tiny pension, supplemented by the piano lessons that Mrs. Sherwood gave to local children. It was only because of Louisa Sherwood’s connection to Lady Standish that Diana had had the opportunity to ride horses and go to parties.

      This opportunity to make a come-out in London was a godsend to her. She knew she had to marry. The thought of spending the rest of her life hanging on Alex’s generosity made her shudder. She knew a good marriage wasn’t going to be easy for a penniless girl like her. But she was aware of her beauty and she thought that in all of London there must be at least one good man who would find her beautiful enough, and personable enough, to want to marry her.

      Sally would attract earls and viscounts; Diana was not foolish enough to expect that kind of attention. What she wanted was a nice, solid man, a house in the country, with dogs and horses and children. Surely that was not too much to hope for.

      She only wished that Alex was not coming with them.

      A few weeks after Alex’s return, an invitation arrived from Viscountess Alston asking the Devizes and the Sherwoods to a small party she was having at Reeve House. The Alstons lived some seven miles away from Standish Court and were the nearest neighbors of their own social standing. Alex’s father had been friends with Viscount Alston and when the earl was alive the two families had often socialized. Lady Standish accepted the invitation for herself and the Sherwoods.

      “I’m sure they want to see you, Alex,” Lady Standish said as they discussed the invitation over dinner that night. Instead of eating in the huge formal dining room, the family usually dined in the smaller family eating room that was much cozier than the elegant perfection that Adam had created in the main room.

      “Is it to be just us and the Alstons?” he asked.

      “I gather from Phoebe’s note that she has asked a few other people from the neighborhood. You know we have never stood on ceremony in the country, Alex. I’m sure Dr. Lawrence will be there, and probably the squire. And Sir Burton Nable, as well.”

      “I hope Ned comes,” Alex said. “I’ve been meaning to go and see him.”

      Sir Burton’s son Ned had been a good friend of Alex’s when the boys were young. Ned had also gone to the Peninsula, but he had not been as lucky as Alex. He had been in an infantry regiment and had lost the lower part of his left leg at Salamanca.

      “I would be surprised if Ned were not there,” Mrs. Sherwood said. “He is engaged to be married, Alex. Do you remember Lizzie Carruthers?”

      “Yes. Good heavens, is Lizzie old enough to be married?”

      “She’s eighteen, the same age as I am,” Sally said.

      “It’s strange, but when you’re away you picture people staying the way they were when last you saw them,” Alex said, his eyes on Diana. “You don’t picture them as changing at all.”

      “Everybody changes,” Diana replied. “And three years is a long time. I’m certainly not the same person at twenty that I was at seventeen, when you went away.”

      “I’ve noticed that,” he said.

      When dinner was ended they all retired upstairs to the music room, where Sally entertained them on the piano. She was very good and the others sat quietly and listened with pleasure to the strains of Mozart. Alex watched Diana, who was seated on a sofa next to her mother.

      The curve of her cheekbones held great sweetness and the large, dark eyes in that fair-skinned face were marvelously arresting. Her mouth was perfect. Not too thin, not too full—just perfect.

      She had a right to be angry with him. He knew that. He had had to choose between staying home for her or fulfilling his lifelong dream of being a soldier. He had chosen the latter. At nineteen, the dream had exerted a more powerful fascination than she had.

      If he had known then what he knew now about war, he wondered if he would have made the same choice.

      As if she had felt his gaze, she turned her head to look at him. For the briefest of moments something powerful flared between them. Then she frowned, looked down to smooth her skirt and returned her gaze to Sally.

      She’s not indifferent to me, Alex thought over his thudding heart. No matter what she might say, something’s still left of what was once between us. I’m sure of it. Perhaps I haven’t lost her after all. If I’m just patient enough…

      The music stopped and Lady Standish said to her daughter, “That was lovely, dear.”

      Sally turned around on the piano seat and smiled at her audience. Everyone clapped.

      Lady Standish said, “Let’s move into the Yellow Drawing Room for tea.”

      On the night of the Alston’s party, Lady Standish decreed that they should all ride in the Standish coach.

      “There is no reason for you to have to freeze driving an open carriage, Alex,” she said to her son. “You can squeeze in with Sally and Diana. After all, we aren’t going far.”

      Alex,