At dinner that evening, Alex said, “Would you like to take the horses for a gallop in the park tomorrow morning, Dee?”
Her whole face lit up. “I should love to.”
“What horse will you be riding?” Mrs. Sherwood asked a little nervously.
“Monty,” Diana said.
Mrs. Sherwood looked at Alex. “Has Monty ever been out of the country? You have to walk through the streets of London before you get to the park.”
“I’ll look after Dee, Cousin Louisa,” Alex said.
“How about Bart?” Diana asked. “Is he accustomed to traffic?”
“Bart’s accustomed to bullets firing all around him,” Alex returned. “I think he can handle the London streets.”
Mrs. Sherwood looked worried, but she didn’t say anything else.
It was seven in the morning when Diana, dressed in her old riding habit, went out to the stables to meet Alex. He was wearing a russet-colored riding coat and brown leather breeches—country clothes. The air was cool, with a slight wind blowing. Their two horses were standing on the cobblestones of the stable yard, all saddled and ready to go.
Diana felt as if a weight had lifted from her chest. She was going to ride again. Everything always looked better to her from the back of a horse. She actually grinned at Alex. “I hope you know how to get to the park, because I certainly don’t.”
“I drove you there the other day, remember?”
“Oh, that’s right. Well, shall we get started?”
“I’ll give you a leg up,” he said, cupping his hands so she could put her foot into his gloved brace. In a moment she was in the sidesaddle, crooking her leg around the horn and gathering the reins into her competent hands.
It was a short walk from Grosvenor Square to the Cumberland Gate entrance to Hyde Park, but London was amazingly busy for such an early hour.
Wagons piled high with fruits and vegetables lumbered through town on their way to the Covent Garden market; fishmongers carried their purchases from the wharves to their various shops; and haunches of freshly slaughtered animals bled through the bottoms of wicker baskets as they were driven by cart to the butcher shops. The large number of people who lived in London had to be fed, and this was the hour at which their food was moved.
Monty sidled a little at all the traffic and threw his head about, but Diana spoke soothingly to him. He had been on the roads at home, of course, but not very frequently. Mostly Diana had ridden him through the many wide and well-kept rides that cut through Standish Park.
As they crossed the main street to get into the park, a particularly noisy wagon came along and Monty bucked in protest.
“Are you all right?” Alex asked as Diana urged Monty forward, away from the noise.
“We’re fine,” she answered calmly. “He’s just a bit worried by these new surroundings.”
They entered into the welcome greenness of the park and when they reached the path along the lake, Diana was delighted to see that it was empty.
“Marvelous,” she said. “No one’s here.”
“How about a good gallop to wake them up?” Alex asked.
She was gone before he finished his question.
He caught her up in a moment, and the two horses thundered along, side-by-side, under the greening oaks. To Diana, it felt glorious. The feel of Monty under her was so familiar, and it was familiar, too, to look out of the side of her eye and see Alex galloping beside her. They had always ridden out early; both of them liked the fresh morning air.
When Diana felt Monty start to slow, she sat back a little and let him come down to a canter. Alex did the same. From the canter they dropped to a trot, then to a walk. They looked at each other and smiled.
“That felt grand,” Diana said.
He nodded. “It’s been a long time since we rode together, Dee.”
Some of her good mood vanished. Whose fault was that? she thought.
Alex patted the neck of his big black horse. “Damn, but I love this horse,” he said.
Diana regarded Bart. “He’s splendid,” she agreed. “I imagine a cavalryman becomes very attached to his horse.”
“They can be the difference between life and death to a man sometimes.” His black hair had tumbled forward over his forehead and his light blue eyes were serious.
He looked the same as when he left, yet he also looked different. He was bigger now; his shoulders were wider, his chest broader and there were strong muscles under the tight-fitting riding breeches that he wore. He had gone away a boy and come back a man.
She heard herself saying, “I’m nervous about being introduced into London society.”
“You shouldn’t be,” he replied. “You’re under the wing of my mother. Everything should go very smoothly for you.”
She confided her deepest fear. “We’re going to Almack’s tonight. What if no one dances with me?”
“Don’t worry about that,” he assured her. “Haven’t men wanted to dance with you all your life?”
“But that was in the country, where people knew me.”
“Believe me, I don’t think you’ll have any problem, but if you do I’ll round up some men to dance with you. Don’t worry, you won’t be left sitting with the chaperones.”
She gave him a smile. “Thank you, Alex. It’s just…I never expected to feel so out of my depth.” Tears stung behind her eyes. “And I miss Freddie. I should never have left him home.”
“I can send for him if it’s that important to you.”
Her face lit to radiance. “Can you? Would that not be too much trouble?”
“Not at all. I’ll send the curricle for him. We’ll have him here in London for you in no time.”
“It won’t be too confining for him, will it? I can walk him in the park every day.”
“He’ll be fine. The horses are more cooped up than they’re accustomed to as well. That’s why it’s good for us to get them out in the morning for a gallop.”
She nodded.
His voice deepened. “For how many years have the two of us ridden together in the morning, Dee?”
“Ever since we were children.” Her voice hardened. “Until you went away.”
They were walking side-by-side on a loose rein, the horses’ heads swinging comfortably as they went along. A slight breeze ruffled the hair on Alex’s forehead. “I had to go, Dee,” he said earnestly. “I know you don’t understand, and I know I can’t really expect you to forgive me, but it was just something in me that I couldn’t deny. I needed to go. I had wanted to be a soldier for all of my life, and then my father finally agreed…I just couldn’t pass up the chance.”
“Yes,” she said tightly. “You made your choice, Alex. I understood that very well.”
“I didn’t mean to leave you forever. I told you I would come back when the war was over. I told you I would marry you.”
She stared straight ahead, between Monty’s small, pointed ears. “You could have come back in a wooden box, like my father. What good would that have been to me?”
“I wouldn’t have been much good to you with my heart always someplace else. You knew that. That’s why you told me to go.”
She turned to look at him. “Was it as glorious as you thought