Anne Barbour by Step in Time Page B

more than a year later, William had attended his cousin’s wedding and had somehow survived the festivities that followed. Lianne had looked at him directly only once during that terrible day and with a small, brave smile had turned away instantly.
    A career in the army had not appealed to him when the possibility had been broached earlier by his uncle, but now he welcomed the haven of a life in uniform. Almost immediately upon the purchase of his colors, he was posted to the Peninsula. He heard through his aunt’s frequent letters news of Grant and his new bride, and worries of Grant’s continuing profligacy were plainly evident. He was unable to return at the death of his aunt, or for that of his uncle, a few years later. It was only after Grant’s death that he saw Lianne again.
    He had been struck to the heart by her appearance, for she had changed so little. Her air of fragility was, perhaps, more pronounced, but her vitality remained undiminished. His visit at her family’s home had been brief, for he could not bear to remain in her presence any longer than necessary, and when he bade farewell to her outside Fairwinds, the Bonner manor, he had ridden away as though pursued by devils.
    He had not seen Lianne, the Countess of Ashindon, since. He had remained at Ashindon Park for many months in his futile effort to bring the estate finances about, but he had steadfastly refused to give in to the almost overwhelming temptation to avail himself of her company. He did very little socializing during that period, and was careful to attend only those functions at which he knew Lianne would be absent.
    On the eve of his departure for London, he had sent her a formal missive informing her of his plans to seek additional financing and his promise to render assistance to her if she should need him. He had left early the next morning, carrying a picture of her in his heart as she had appeared on the morning she had averred her intention of remaining in the fastness of her parents’ home.
    Now, she was in London, and what was he to do? He supposed he could continue to avoid her, although it would be difficult, harnessed as he was to his newly betrothed and her social obligations.
    By the end of the day, the only conclusion to which he had come was that while he would under no circumstances visit Lianne again, he was also wholly averse to playing the gallant to Amanda Bridge. How could he spout pretty platitudes to golden curls and blue eyes, when an image of raven locks and eyes of emerald green was engraved on his heart forever? He had almost a week before the Marchford ball to gird his loins to the performance of his duties. He would indulge himself in the luxury of those few days’ solitude. He would then emerge, if not like a butterfly from a chrysalis, at least as a reasonable facsimile of a happy bridegroom.
    * * * *
    If Amanda noted the earl’s absence, she said nothing to the other members of the household. She did, indeed, wonder a little and admitted to herself that she missed him. With him, she could be herself—more or less. That she also missed the sardonic flash of gray eyes and muscled shoulders contained in an elegantly tailored jacket, she forbore to discuss with herself.
    Instead, she filled her days with activity. She practiced the piano and went for long walks through the fascinating streets of London. That Serena insisted she be accompanied on these excursions by Hutchings and a couple of footmen was a source of irritation to which she tried to accustom herself. She returned to Grosvenor Chapel on several occasions, despite Serena’s strictures, with no more felicitous results than before. She still could not come to grips with the possibility that she had actually traveled through time. There must be some other explanation. The only one that suggested itself, however, was that she’d gone completely bananas, and she somehow found that less than acceptable.
    In the meantime, she found it almost