Diana’s brows arched as she considered. She’d never really thought about that. Her journals were her private thoughts and sketches and reflections, but travel memoirs were popular and few were written by independent, not to mention scandalous, ladies. This was definitely worth considering. She returned to reading.
I probably shouldn’t ask this, my favorite aunt, but have you considered returning to England? You are missed here by everyone, most of all by me. You could stay with us in London—the house is so large you’d never have to see us if you didn’t want to!
Plus—I’m also increasing, slightly behind Constance, who is ever more efficient than I am. It won’t be long now! (Clearly I haven’t written in far too long! Blast, more exclamation points have escaped!)
Gabriel is delighted but also rather anxious, despite my assurances that Lawrence women are famously fertile and never, ever die in childbirth. As you know, I put the “rude” in “rude good health.”
I’d like you to be godmother to this new little person, as you were for me. You were thebestgodmother! The globe of the world you gave me was the most marvelous present I ever received and inspired my own adventures. It has a place of honor in our library.
And—if you don’t mind and I have a girl, I want to name her Diana.
Diana swallowed hard when she read that, sharply aware of how much she missed her family. Most of them were quite enjoyable people, and now that she was thirty and officially a spinster, they wouldn’t be trying to marry her off to some boring, bossy gentleman. They wouldn’tdare!
She reread the last lines of the letter, unable to suppress the ache of lost possibilities in her own life. For better and worse, the past had made her what she was.
Setting regret aside, she folded the paper, thinking that there was no good reason not to return. She’d had more than her share of grand sights and adventures, and the doomed love affair was no more than a faint, bittersweet memory. He’d likely forgotten her—and if he did remember, it would be with anger.
For a brief, painful moment she remembered his agonized expression when she’d left him. Young, honest, both vulnerable and strong, and hauntingly handsome. Though she knew she’d been right to leave, she hated herself for what she’d done.
She hoped he’d recovered quickly. He’d surely married by now, perhaps had a child or two. Sadly she recognized that she what she really wanted was for him to have forgotten her. That would mitigate her lingering guilt.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of Jane Evans, a round, dark-haired woman who owned the house where Diana had her rooms. The widow of a British sergeant, Jane had been struggling to support her children when Diana had arrived in India. They’d become first friends, then partners in their export business.
Jane sat on the other end of the bench and scratched the head of the Panda, who lay between them. He began purring but didn’t bother opening his eyes.
Seeing the letter Diana held, Jane asked, “News from home?”
“Yes, from my niece Rory. She has much to say. She’s expecting a baby. In fact, it’s probably arrived by now.”
“Good for her!” Jane gave her partner a shrewd glance. “Is she trying to persuade you to return to England?”
“How did you guess?” Diana asked, surprised.
“It’s been obvious that you’re missing England and your family, Lady Aurora most of all. I saw how close you were when she visited here. With matching figures and golden blond hair, you look more like sisters than aunt and niece.” Jane chuckled. “Now that Rory has married and become respectable, perhaps you’re thinking you might do the same?”
“No!” Diana said, scandalized. “For any number of reasons, justno!But going back to England and seeing my family again is very tempting. It’s time for me to leave India. If I sail soon, I should be home before Christmas.”
“Christmas. Snow. Ice. Freezing rain.” Jane shuddered elaborately. “No, thank you! India is my home now. My children were born here. But your roots haven’t sunken into Indian soil as deeply as mine have.”
“Perhaps I’m too much an observer.” Diana slanted a glance at her friend. “Rory suggests I should publish my travel writings.”
“I think that’s an excellent idea!” Jane bit her lip, looking worried. “But what about our export business? I don’t have the money to buy you out now. It would take several years.”
“I assumed we’d continue,” Diana replied. “I funded the business at the beginning, but you’ve always been best at finding silks and perfumes and carvings that will sell well in England. When I’m back there, I can find new markets for our wares. The business should prosper even more than it already has.”
Jane gave a sigh of relief. “I like this idea. But I shall miss you, Diana!” Her expression turned crafty. “I assume you’ll leave the Panda here with us rather than subject the poor fellow to such a long voyage.”
Diana laughed. “Keep your greedy hands off my cat! You and the children will just have to find another one. Or two or three. But where I go the Panda goes!”
“I was afraid of that.” Jane reached out and caught Diana’s hand. “Godspeed, my dear. I look forward to hearing of your new adventures.”
Diana squeezed her friend’s hand. “I don’t imagine I’ll have grand adventures in the future. I look forward to a peaceful life becoming an extremely eccentric old lady.”
“You might believe that.” Jane smiled mischievously. “But I know better!”
Chapter 2
London
