by Joan Wolf
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, who liked the idea of squeezing in with Diana, did not argue with his mother’s pronouncement.
So it was that the five people assembled on the drive in front of the house to get into the elegant, well-sprung Standish carriage. Lady Standish and Mrs. Sherwood got in first, sitting on one side of the carriage, then Lady Standish beckoned to her son to follow her.
Alex climbed in and seated himself by the far window opposite to his mother and Mrs. Sherwood. Outside he heard Sally say, “Would you mind if I had the window seat, Diana? You know I am prone to motion sickness.”
There was a distinct pause, then Diana said, “Of course, Sally.”
Alex watched as Diana climbed into the carriage and sat beside him. She left a good amount of space between the two of them, but when Sally joined them she was forced to move closer.
Alex put his arm along the back of the seat, as if to make more room. It was dark inside the carriage, but he could feel the closeness of her body with every cell in his own. His body stirred. He hadn’t been this close to her since he had been home.
“There now, that’s not too bad, is it?” Lady Standish said cheerfully.
“It’s fine, Mama,” Sally said.
Diana was silent.
After a moment, the carriage started forward.
“I’m glad it’s a nice clear night,” Lady Standish said. “I dislike driving at night in the rain. I’m always afraid William will drive us off the road. He’s getting old and I don’t think he sees that well in the dark.”
“Good heavens, Mama,” Alex said. “Why on earth are you employing a coachman who can’t see in the dark?”
“Your father was going to retire him, but I just couldn’t bring myself to tell him. He’s been with us for so many years…”
“Well, he can’t keep his job if he can’t see,” Alex said reasonably. “There’s an empty cottage next to where Nanny lives. I’ll give him a nice pension. They can be retired together.”
Lady Standish sighed. “You’re right, of course. I suppose I just didn’t want any more changes after your father died.”
“Poor William,” Diana said mournfully. “What will he do with himself if he ca
n’t drive the coach?”
“He can fish,” Alex said. “He always went fishing on his day off. He taught me a thing or two about catching fish when I was small.”
“I didn’t know William fished,” Sally said.
“Fancy that,” Lady Standish said.
“We’ll find someone younger to replace him, Mama,” Alex said. “You’ll be more comfortable with a man you’re not afraid is going to put you in a ditch.”
“Thank you, Alex,” Lady Standish said.
“Poor William,” Diana repeated softly.
“William will be fine,” Alex said firmly, “and his job can be filled by one of the men who are coming home from the war. There are many ex-soldiers in need of a job and there will be many more once Napoleon is deposed. There are not nearly enough jobs to accommodate the numbers that will be thrown on the economy. I foresee hard times for many good men and their families.”
Silence fell on the coach until they drew up at the front door of Reeve House. All the windows were lit and a footman was there to assist the occupants out of the carriage.
Alex followed the ladies into the front hall where their wraps and coats were taken by another footman. Then they were escorted upstairs to the large formal drawing room where a group of people had already gathered.
A woman dressed in a green evening gown and a man wearing the same formal clothes as Alex—a black tail coat, buff pantaloons, silk stockings and black pumps—came to greet them. “Amelia, my dear. How lovely to see you,” Lady Alston said. “And Louisa, too. And your girls.”
The ladies responded appropriately, then Lady Standish said to Lord and Lady Alston, “And here is Alex, newly returned from the Peninsula.”
“We have prayed for your safety,” Lady Alston said, taking Alex’s hand and holding it tightly.
“Thank you, ma’am. I appreciate that,” Alex said.
Lord Alston took Alex’s hand from his wife and shook it hard. “Good to see you, my boy,” he said. “Your father was very proud of you.”
“Thank you, sir,” Alex said. “I am only sorry that I didn’t have a chance to see him before he died.”
“He understood. He followed the campaign closely, you know. We both did. And he appreciated your letters.”
“Well, come along in, and meet our other guests,” Lady Alston said gaily. “It is something to celebrate, having you home again.”
Alex knew most of the people at the party. He was particularly pleased to see his friend Ned Nable there and the two young men went into a corner to talk. Their sober expressions were in contrast to the gaiety of the rest of the room.
Alex came back to awareness of the party when he heard the piano. For the first time he noticed that the rug had been rolled back. Evidently there was going to be dancing.
It was immediately obvious to Alex that every man in the room wanted to dance with Diana. The doctor moved the fastest and the two of them held hands to join in the circle for a Scottish reel.
“Dance with Lizzie, would you?” Ned said. “The poor girl doesn’t get many dances with an amputee for a fiancé.”
“I would be delighted to dance with Lizzie,” Alex said, and took the hand of Ned’s future wife.
In the course of the dance he managed to touch hands with Diana once or twice, which was as close as he got to her for most of the evening. He danced with his mother, with his hostess, even with Sally, but every time he tried to approach Diana she was giving her hand to another man.
He finally grabbed her when she was coming out of the ladies’ retiring room. “It will look strange if you don’t dance with me,” he said. “Everyone here knows we used to be good friends. Do you want to start gossip?”
She glared up at him, her dark eyes stormy. Tonight she was wearing her hair high on the back of her head, with little tendrils falling down her neck. “Oh, all right,” she huffed. “Let’s get it over with.”
She marched into the drawing room and gave him her hand without looking at him. He closed his hand around hers, feeling the long elegant fingers that were so gentle on the mouth of a horse. He held her hand more tightly than was necessary and she shot him a look but didn’t say anything. The music started and the circle they were part of began to move.
It was frustrating, to be so close to her yet feel that she was so far away. When the dance finished he went back to join Ned, who was sitting on a sofa with Lizzie.
“Don’t tell me you’re tired?” Lizzie teased.
He smiled at her. “No. I’m just resting after the triumph of finally having won a dance with Miss Sherwood.”
“She’s had a proposal from every unattached man in this room,” Lizzie said cheerfully. “But I hear she’s going to London. She’ll probably make a much better match there.”
She’s refused all of these men, Alex thought. Surely that’s a good sign.
His eyes rested on his sister. He didn’t have to ask whether or not Sally had received any offers. There was no chance in the world that an earl’s daughter would marry the country doctor.
The music had stopped and servants were coming in with a tea tray. Alex went to get his cup and looked forward to the ride home, when he would be sitting close beside Diana.
Four
Despite feeling tired when she got into bed after the party, Diana couldn’t fall asleep. Her mind was on Alex and, as she lay there on her back, her arm across her forehead, her mind drifted back to the day that they first had met.
She was seven years old when she came to live in the cottage on the grounds of Standish Court. She had come in June and Alex had been home from Eton. She remembered the confusion of the move, the anguished realization that her father was going far away and the pain of separation from the pony she had been riding at their last house. He had belonged to the local squire, who had allowed Diana to ride him as his son had outgrown him.
She had been immensely intimidated by the move. What was going to happen to her in such a place? At her old home she had had her father, her dog, her mother and her pony. Here, at Standish, there was only Mama, as her dog had died a few months previously. And Mama kept telling her how nice she must be to Lord and Lady Standish for letting them stay in this cottage.
It was a nice cottage, much larger and airier than their last house, but just down the road was the immenseness of Standish Court, where lived this aristocratic family to whom she had to be so grateful.
She remembered the first afternoon they were invited to take tea at Standish. Mama had dressed her in her best dress and they had waited for the trap that the countess was sending to pick them up. They were driven to the palace—for that is what it looked like to Diana—and taken through fabulous rooms hung with mirrors and paintings and decorated with classical statues, to a large sitting room where Lady Standish waited for them, with her five-year-old daughter at her side.
Diana had watched as Mama and Lady Standish exchanged hugs and kisses. Then Lady Standish had bent to her. “And this is Diana,” she said. “What a pretty girl you are. I am your mother’s cousin, Amelia. Would you like to give me a kiss?”
Obediently, Diana kissed the soft cheek of her mother’s cousin.
“And this is your cousin, Sally.”
Sally was a blue-eyed, blond-haired cherub. She smiled at Diana. “Hello,” she said.
“Hello,” Diana replied.
Everyone settled down. The tea tray was brought, and lemonade for Sally and Diana.
Lady Standish said apologetically, “Alex was supposed to be here. I can’t imagine what is keeping him.”
On that note, the door opened and a boy dressed in riding clothes came in. He had black hair and sky-blue eyes and he said politely to his mother, “I’m sorry I’m late, Mama. I got delayed in the stable.”
Lady Standish sighed. “You’re always in the stable, Alex. Can’t you find something else to do?”
“Nothing that I like as much,” he said.
Diana was immediately drawn to the boy. “Do you have a lot of
horses in your stable?” she asked him.
He looked at her. “Yes,” he said.
How wonderful, she thought.
“If you need any help exercising them, I’d be happy to help,” she said. “I used to exercise the squire’s son’s pony when we lived at home.”
He looked her up and down. “How old are you?”
“I’m almost eight. And I can ride anything.”
The boy’s black eyebrows shot up. “I doubt that.”
“I can!” she shot back. “The squire used to say that I was the best natural rider he’d ever seen!”
“Diana,” her mother chided gently. “Don’t brag, darling. It’s not becoming.”
“It’s not bragging, it’s true,” she insisted. “He did say that, Mama. Truly he did.”
The boy’s blue eyes narrowed. “Well, we’ll see about that,” he said.
“You can ride my pony, Diana,” Sally said. “He is very sweet.”
Diana gave Sally a radiant smile. “Thank you.”
After that the two ladies talked and the children drank their lemonade and ate cake from the tea tray. Then a big man with graying black hair and ordinary blue eyes came into the room.
That must be the earl, Diana thought.
“My lord,” Lady Standish said with pleasure. “I wasn’t sure you would be able to join us.”
He smiled. “Of course I wanted to be here to greet Mrs. Sherwood and her daughter. We are very glad to have you at Standish, ma’am.”
Diana’s mother’s cheeks were flushed. “Thank you, my lord. I cannot tell you how much we appreciate your generosity.”
“Not at all,” he said. “The cottage was just lying there empty. Happy to have it used.”
Diana looked at the earl curiously. When it came her turn to be introduced, she curtseyed and smiled at the large man who was suddenly so important in her life. He smiled back and called her a very pretty little girl. People had been calling Diana a very pretty little girl ever since she could remember, so it made little impression on her. She looked from the earl to his son. Alex looked like his father, except for his extraordinary eye color.
Diana was conscious of Alex looking at her and she looked boldly back. She had every intention of pushing him to allow her to ride Sally’s pony.
