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“When he becomes smitten with my sister, as he surely will, his mother will have to change her plans.”

“Marianne…” started the Colonel, but he noted the expression on his wife's face, as a most becoming flush spread from her slender white neck to suffuse her cheeks with spots of pink, and he knew it was useless to continue.

Her mouth was set in a firm line; she was quite determined. “I will of course have to stay overnight at the cottage. The journey is too fatiguing to be going and coming back in one day, and I am sure I shall be quite worn out enough by Margaret's shopping excursions.” Marianne knew she was being petulant, but she wanted very badly at this moment to irritate her husband and show him that she could be quite as independent as he.

William saw no fault in her behaviour. He could not bear to have her upset and see her retract from him. “Of course, my love, and two manservants to accompany you.” He reached inside his jacket. “James,” he continued, “come, I have a little errand for you. Could you give this little token to your mother?”

Marianne's attention was engaged once more, her face breaking into a beaming smile as James toddled over to present her with a tiny box, a divine confection of silk and ribbon. With trembling fingers Marianne peeled back the wrappings to reveal a small, hinged leather box. She looked to William, who nodded with encouragement as she opened it. Nestled on a silk cushion was the most exquisite heart-shaped diamond, fashioned onto a ring of gold.

“I have not forgotten to mark the occasion, my love,” said William softly. “I hope you like it.”

“Like it! I love it!” Marianne exclaimed, sweeping James into her arms and jumping to her feet to run and hug her husband, bestowing kisses on them both.

William took her hand and placed the ring on her finger. He pulled her towards him. “Will you marry me?”

“I would, kind sir,” she answered with a curtsey, “but I have to tell you that I am already married, three years this day, and to the most wonderful and generous-hearted man in the whole world!” she cried, laughing at their gaiety.

James caught his parents’ playful mood and clapped his hands in excitement, begging to be let down. He skipped around the room, whooping and shouting with delight, until the sight of the nursemaid reappearing at the door to lead him away to the nursery quieted his heightened spirits for the time being.

“I think you must get yourself ready, my dear,” William announced, reluctant to let go her hand, “or Margaret will think she has been forgotten.” He glanced at his wife with a half hope that she might change her mind and stay with him. He would not tell her about the private dinner he had arranged as a surprise or about the Bridport musicians he had booked to play for them as they ate. He would postpone his schemes. Instead, he reproached himself for not thinking to ask about her arrangements, but in truth, he had assumed she would be free to spend the day with him.

“Why, yes, I had best not be late. If I know Margaret she will be standing at the gate as I speak, in anticipation. But first…” Marianne bent her head to tenderly kiss her husband and whisper in his ear. “You will have to wait until later, very much later for your anniversary gift, my dearest one,” she smiled. Her smiles turned to laughter once more as she caught William's expression. He was blushing like a bride and quite as eager. Without a backward glance, Marianne swept out of the room and ran to her chamber to don her travelling clothes. She glimpsed her reflection in the looking glass and was quite satisfied with all she saw. Her handsome ring looked very well on her hand, but what a pity it was to have to cover the sight of such beauty with a glove!

Pausing on the stairs as she rushed down to the awaiting carriage, she looked up at the painting, which of all the works hanging in the hall, never failed to arrest her. It was of a woman, who had by some strange twist of fate a close resemblance to herself. The young