Joan Wolf - His Lordship's Desire

“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 can’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.