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Watkins and Cousin Horace thatSindonParkand all her inheritance was to remain hers. He had been kind
to her even in that unbelievably kind.
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She was constantly aware of his kindness. Had she merely owed him her life, she might have come to
hate him during those weeks. She might have rebelled, despite herself. But in saving her, he had been
kind to her. Andaftersaving her, he had continued kind. And had given uphis own freedom in order to
take her safely home.
When she was not alone, she was the person she had been trained to be by her future mother-in-law.
She was the person she had chosen to become, because of an obligation that lay heavily on her. But she
felt like a stranger to herself.
Only occasionally and all too briefly did she break free.
They were at theRoyalAcademyart gallery one afternoon in company with Lord and Lady George
Munro and the Earl and Countess of Greenwald, her future in-laws. Her arm was drawn through the
duke's. They were all sedately viewing the crowded tiers of paintings and commenting on their various
merits and demerits. Stephanie judged with her emotions. If a painting lifted her spirits, she liked it. She
did not try to analyze her feelings.
But His Grace smiled when she explained this to him. "Then you miss a whole area in which you might
exercise your mind," he said. "You do it with books, but not with paintings, Miss Gray? You surprise
me." And he went on to analyze a Gainsborough landscape she had admired in such a manner that she
was enthralled and felt that she had simply not seen the painting at all before.
"Oh," she said, "and I thought it was merely pretty. How foolish I feel."
"I must confess," he said, "that I react to music much as you do to painting. I suppose sometimes we
need to allow our intellects to rest in order that we may merely enjoy."
She smiled at him.
And then beyond him, she spotted two couples standing before a canvas, absorbed in viewing it. Her
eyes fixed on them and widened. It could not be but it was. She forgot everything but them. She
withdrew her arm from the duke's, took a few hurried steps across the gallery, and stopped.
"Miriam?" she said uncertainly. "Tom?"
She had not seen them for six years. For a moment she thought she must have been mistaken. But when
all four people turned their heads to look inquiringly at her, she saw that she had not. Tom Reaves stood
before her and Miriam, his sister, the one closest to Stephanie in age looking hardly any different at
all than when she had last seen them.
"Stephie?"Miriam questioned, her eyes growing as wide as saucers. "Stephanie?"
And then they were in each other's arms, hugging and laughing and exclaiming.
"Steph?"Tom was saying, loudly enough to be heard above them. "Good Lord!"
He caught her up in a bear hug, swinging her off her feet and around in a complete circle. She was
laughing helplessly.
"What on earth are you doing here?"
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"You look as fine as fivepence assevenpence."
"I cannot believe it!"
All three of them spoke, or rather yelled, at once. All three laughed.
"I cannot believe it," Stephanie said again."To meet my dearest friends again, and inLondonof all places.
How very wonderful!"
"Steph, you look& like a duchess," Tom said, his eyes sweeping over her from head to toe.
"What on earth are you doing here?" Miriam asked again. "You are supposed to be in the north of
England, teaching. Whata fortunatecoincidence to run into you here, Stephie."
"We are here for a month of sightseeing," Tom said."With our spouses, Steph. This is my wife, Sarah."
He smiled at the young lady standing beside him."And Miriam's husband, Perry Shields. Stephanie Gray,
my love. She grew up close to us at the vicarage. The best female cricketer it has ever been my
misfortune to know. She had a formidable bowling arm."
They all laughed merrily. And then the two couples looked inquiringly beyond Stephanie's shoulder. She
was brought back to reality with a sickening jolt. Oh dear, she thought. She had abandoned him in the
middle of the gallery and had proceeded to shriek and laugh like a hoyden or a country bumpkin with
people who were strangers to him. She had hugged Miriam with unbecoming enthusiasm. She had
allowed Tom to sweep her right off her feet and swing her around.
The Duke of Bridgwater was looking at her with raised eyebrows when she turned.
"Oh." She felt herself flushing. And then the part of her that no longer did anything impulsively or
spontaneously felt the awkwardness of a dilemma. If one should meet an acquaintance while in company
with someone else, the duchess had taught her just a few daysbefore, one ought to avoid introducing the
two people unless permission has been granted beforehand by the socially superior of the two. Thus one
avoids putting that person into the regrettable situation of having to acknowledge an unwanted
acquaintance.
But she had no choice in the matter now. He had followed her across the gallery room, as his sister and
brother had not. That meant, surely, that he wished to be presented. Or did it merely mean that he had
come in the hope of preventing her from making a further spectacle ofherself ?
"Your Grace," she said, "may I present Mr. and Mrs.Shields and Mr. and Mrs. Reaves? Miriam and
Tom are dear friends from my girlhood."
He bowed his head in acknowledgment of the introductions.
"May I present His Grace, the Duke of Bridgwater?" she said, looking at her friends. Their faces
registered an almost embarrassing degree of surprise.
"I am pleased to make your acquaintance," the duke said. "You are in town for long?"
"For ten more days, Your Grace," Tom said. "We have come to see the sights. The ladies have come
also to shop."
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"Oh, and the gentlemen too," Miriam said, "though they hate to admit it."
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