She had relatives of her own—an aunt and two cousins. The thought should excite her, Lily supposed. Perhaps in time it would. But she was too full of grief for her father at the moment. She had never properly grieved for him, she realized. She had married a mere three hours after his death, and a few hours after that the long, long nightmare had begun when she had been shot above the heart. She had never had a chance fully to realize the enormity of her loss.

"I miss him," she said.

"I do too, Lily." He had gone to lean against the far end of the pianoforte. "But you have at least something now by which to remember him. What happened to your locket? Did the French take it—or the Spanish?"

"Manuel," she said. "But he returned it to me when I was released. It is broken, though. The chain snapped when he tore it from my neck."

She heard him suck in his breath. "You always wore it," he said. "Was it a gift from your father or mother?"

"From both, I suppose," she said. "I have always had it, for as far back as I can remember. Papa used to say I must always wear it, that I must never take it off or lose it."

"But the chain is broken," he said. "You must wear the locket again, Lily, as a more personal remembrance of both your parents. Will you allow me to take it to a jeweler to have the chain mended?"

She hesitated. She would trust him even with her life, but she could not bear the thought of allowing the locket out of her possession again. She had been stripped of clothes when she was first taken by the Spanish, but she had felt most naked when Manuel had torn the locket from her neck. She had felt that part of herself had been ripped away.

"Better still," Neville said, reading her hesitation correctly, "will you allow me to escort you to a jeweler's, Lily, to have the chain mended? I would not doubt it can be done on the spot while you watch."

She looked at him and trusted him and forgot for the moment the barrier that must forever be kept between them. "Yes," she said. "Thank you, Neville." And she sucked her lower lip between her teeth as their eyes met and held. She felt as if she had spoken an endearment; he looked as if he had heard one.

But the door opened at that opportune moment and Elizabeth came into the room, smiling cheerfully. "Oh, dear," she said, "Mr. Stanwick does like to talk when one gives him the opportunity. Do forgive me for abandoning you, Neville. But I daresay Lily has kept you entertained. She has become adept at social conversation."

"I am not complaining," Neville told her.

"Let us all go to my sitting room for tea," Elizabeth suggested. "There is a fire burning there. It is a rather chilly day for summer, is it not? Damp too."

Lily's eyes went to the drawing room window. It was indeed a gray, cloudy day. There were raindrops on the glass though it appeared that it was not raining at that moment. The weather had depressed her all morning, she remembered. Yet she had had the distinct impression that the sun had been shining this afternoon. She had been mistaken.

***

Elizabeth had always openly admitted to Neville that he was her favorite nephew. She wished for his happiness, he knew. He knew too that she was aware of the depth of his feelings for Lily. But she would not press Lily to come back to him. She had too great an integrity for that. She had set herself to giving Lily the opportunity to learn skills and acquire confidence so that she could choose her future for herself. If Lily chose to marry him, Elizabeth would be pleased. If she chose not to do so, Elizabeth would support her.

Women, when they banded together, Neville thought ruefully, could be as easily moved as the Rock of Gibraltar.

He was eager to take Lily to a jeweler's. He knew that the locket was precious to her and he wanted to help restore it to her whole so that she could wear it again. That was his main motive, he was quite sure. There was also, of course, the excuse the expedition would give him to spend some time with Lily again.

But the following day would not do at all, Elizabeth informed him during tea on the afternoon he had brought Doyle's pack. Lily would be busy all morning with her lessons, and there was the Fogies' garden party in the afternoon. She would need Lily to attend her for that occasion. And the following day there were the morning lessons and a dancing lesson during the afternoon. It was also to be the day of the week on which Elizabeth was regularly at home to callers, and this week she would have Lily sit with her and help her entertain.

The best Neville could do, since he had not received an invitation to the garden party, was call at Elizabeth's the following afternoon and sit drinking tea and conversing with a group of visitors that did not include Lily. It was not until the next afternoon that she was finally declared free to go with him to a jeweler's. And even then Elizabeth would have accompanied them if he had not been able to assure her that he would be taking an open carriage with his groom up behind.

Elizabeth, of course, had always been a high stickler. But she was treating Lily more like a treasured ward than a paid companion. It was frustrating, but Neville found himself glad of it too. All too many young blades had called for tea at Elizabeth's with no other apparent reason for doing so than a wish to ogle Lily.

The sun was shining again at last on the appointed afternoon, and Lily was wearing an attractive and extremely fashionable green dress with a straw bonnet. Neville handed her into his phaeton and took his seat beside her before taking the ribbons from his groom's hand and waiting for the boy to clamber up behind.

"Tell me the truth, Lily," he said as they drove in the direction of Bond Street. "Are you enjoying yourself?"

She considered her answer. "I feel… at ease," she said. "I feel that I can now mingle with almost any company in which I happen to find myself during the rest of my life. It is a good feeling, my lord."

"And are you learning all you wished to learn?" he asked her.

"By no means," she said. "I doubt one can ever learn or even be in the process of learning all the fascinating facts and mysteries of life. I am learning far more slowly than I expected. I can barely read and yet I have been having lessons for over a month. Yet every day when I become frustrated and unhappy with myself I remember how I have always yearned for knowledge and skills. And I remember how very fortunate I am to be able to satisfy my yearning at last."

He sighed. "I did not want you to change, Lily," he said. "I liked you just as you were. But when I told Elizabeth that, she pointed out to me how selfish I was being. And I must admit that it is a delight to see you at your ease, as you put it." He smiled across at her. "And I do like your hair that way."

"So do I." She smiled gaily and raised one gloved hand in greeting to two ladies who were emerging from a milliner's shop. At the same moment George Brigham, who was passing on the street, touched the brim of his hat with his cane and inclined his head to Lily.

She was looking like and she was being treated like a young lady of ton, Neville realized. Her own courage and Elizabeth's encouragement had brought her out of hiding and she was at ease. He would have sheltered and protected her and made her forever uncomfortable and unhappy. It was not a pleasant admission to make to himself.

He escorted her into the shop of the jeweler he had selected as the best and explained that Miss Doyle would rather not leave her locket to be collected later, but would like to watch as the chain was mended. And so they were given seats, and the precious piece did not leave her sight.

The locket was gold. So was the chain. It was not the sort of trinket one would expect to have been within the means of a soldier who had not even had a sergeant's pay when it had been purchased. Neville had seen it dozens of times about Lily's neck. It had seemed a part of her. It had never occurred to him to wonder about it. There was some sort of intricate design on the outside of the locket, but he did not attempt to lean close enough to examine it. For some reason Lily guarded its privacy. He would respect her wishes.

He paid for the work when it was finished, and she put the locket carefully back inside her reticule.

"You are not going to wear it?" he asked her as they left the shop.

"I have not worn it for so long," she said, "that I wish to choose some special occasion on which to wear it for the first time again. I do not know when. I will think of the right time."

"Let me take you to Gunter's for an ice?" he asked.

She bit her lip, but she nodded. "Yes," she said. "Thank you, my lord. And thank you for having my locket mended. You are very kind."

He stopped on the pavement with her and bent his head closer to hers so that he could look into her eyes.

"Lily," he said, "do not deceive yourself into thinking I acted from kindness. I have been selfish again. When you wear the locket once more, I hope—indeed, I believe-that you will remember not only your mama and papa but also the man who will always consider himself your husband."

"Oh, don't," she said quickly, gazing back at him with wide blue eyes.

"But you will remember that, will you not?" he said.

She did not answer him, but she nodded almost imperceptibly after a few moments.

***

Lily had been dreading the afternoon. She had prayed that Elizabeth would go with them. After the question of the carriage had been settled, she had prayed for rain so that he would be forced to bring a closed carriage and Elizabeth would have to accompany them after all.