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Part 1

The Countess Grenfield and her brother, Lord Brant, were travelling in his carriage through the English countryside.
"I like her," said the countess smiling.
Her brother knew exactly who his sister meant. They had barely left the hunting lodge of his closest friend, Nicholas St James, the Earl of Campton. Nick, as he and his sister referred to their lifelong friend, had found a mysterious young woman named Sylvia in the woods near the lodge and become quite besotted with her. Thalia's maid, Mary, had stayed behind to aid Sylvia with her wardrobe as Thalia would return in a fortnight to get Sylvia to take her to London. The trip to the Earl of Grenfield's estate would only require one night on the road and the estate was well staffed. Thalia knew one of the maids could handle her personal needs while in the country.
"I do, too," said Peter. "More importantly, Nick does."
"Yes," said Thalia. "It is so good to see him finally fall in love. Now, Dear Brother -"
Peter interrupted before she could say more. "Thalia! I hope you are not getting ideas about me ending my bachelorhood."
"Peter, you really should," Thalia said. "You need an heir for the barony."
"That seems a poor reason to get leg-shackled," responded Peter. "I have no quarrel with our cousin being my heir."
"I know. I agree that Cousin Edward is a fine man. I do find it difficult to believe though that you do not want children of your own. And now Nick will be busy with a wife and, before long, children. I worry that you will be lonely."
"Do not worry, Sister. Nick and I are close friends but we never lived in each other's pocket. I will be fine. How are things between you and Grenfield?"
"They are fine," said Thalia but Peter thought he noticed a sadness in her eyes. It was so brief he wasn't sure he saw it.
"I think I shall try to rest now," said Thalia, closing her eyes.
Now Peter was sure something was wrong and this was her way of closing the subject. Thalia did not tire so easily.
As both occupants became preoccupied with their thoughts, the carriage became very quiet.

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Part 2

Peter knew very well that if Thalia did not wish to talk about something, there was no use in him pushing her. The Earl of Grenfield was highly respected and, to all outward appearances, treated his wife very well. Still, he had long thought that something was not quite right, or, at least, that Thalia was not truly happy.
Peter's thoughts strayed to another area. Just as he was sure Thalia had not been truthful about things with Grenfield, he had not been honest with her. Being with Nick and Sylvia had brought old feelings rushing back to him. He was happy for his friend, truly he was, but he was jealous, too. Jealous of the love. Unbeknownst to Thalia and Nick, who knew him better than most anyone, Peter had once been in love. It was so long ago and he had been so young. When he allowed himself to think back, he tended to blame his youth for the outcome.
He had been twenty. His maternal grandmother had made a home in Bath in her later years and she was doing poorly. He and Thalia accompanied their mother when she went to be with her mother. They had stayed in Bath several months. Thalia was eighteen and had been going to make her come-out in London that year but that changed with their grandmother's illness. She did get to participate in some of the social events in Bath. With the mourning period that followed the death of the grandmother, Thalia was twenty before going to London to be presented at court and become part of Society.
His thoughts went back to the months in Bath. Being a male, as well as being older, gave Peter more freedom in Bath than Thalia was allowed. While Thalia spent time entertaining morning callers, he was busy elsewhere. Thalia had actually brought the young woman to his attention. Peter had accompanied his sister one afternoon to a bookshop Thalia had wished to visit.
"That must be the owner's daughter," said Thalia, gesturing toward a young woman with spectacles. "Everyone says she is very knowledgeable and helpful in finding books."
Peter hardly heard the last as he looked at the young woman who was brightly smiling and speaking animatedly with a woman he vaguely recognized as one of the matrons of society that had paid a visit to his mother. He grabbed Thalia's elbow and, not-so-gently, pushed her in the direction of the two women, whispering to her, "We should greet Lady Cantfield."
Thalia looked at him oddly but went along with it. "Good afternoon Lady Cantfield," said Thalia when they neared.
The two women looked at Thalia and Peter. Lady Cantfield returned the greeting and asked after their mother and grandmother. Peter waited for her to introduce the younger woman. It seemed to him to take forever but at last she did. Her name was Miss Helen Webster and she was, indeed the shopowner's daughter and, according to Lady Cantfield, a wonder in helping to locate the right book. Peter was more interested in the smile that lit up her whole face and put a twinkle in her eyes than her knowledge of books.

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Part 3

As the carriage continued travelling along to Grenmarsh Abbey, the Grenfield estate, Peter's thoughts remained in the past.
The next morning Peter went back to the bookstore. As mornings were a quieter time for the shop, Mr. Webster spent most of the time in his office working on his bookkeeping and ordering. Peter waited for a moment when there were no others in the shop to speak to Miss Webster. He found himself drawn to return daily to catch moments with her.
He discovered that she arrived an hour before her father arrived and the shop opened to customers, to dust and tidy. By unspoken agreement, he joined her at those times. They talked and then, talked some more. She called him Peter and her called her Helen in those private moments. He told her all about himself. She did the same. He found out, among other things, she was a year younger than he and had been working in her father's shop since she was sixteen.
Peter knew that his feelings toward her were different then anything he had ever known before. At twenty, he had had some experience with women but nothing like this. He had never had this compelling need to just be with a woman, to see her smile, to hear her voice. There were times his thoughts strayed and he had definitely felt the urge many times to see what kissing her would be like. He was well aware that she, while not part of his circle, neither was she someone to dally with.
The last morning he saw her returned to his mind in perfectly clarity, as it had so many times in the past twelve years. He let himself in the door she always left open for him and, as always, locked it. He could tell something was wrong. She was dusting furiously and seemed to be unaware of his entrance. As he walked toward her he accidentally knocked a book from a table onto the floor. She turned around so fast, clutching the feather duster tightly to her chest. Those usually smiling lips were trembling and the twinkle in her eyes had been replaced with tears. Without stopping to think he had rushed up to her and enveloped her in his arms and held her close. She put her arms around him and he felt her shake as tears wet his shirt. After a few minutes he felt her take a big breath and remove her arms. He loosened his hold and she stepped back from him.
"What is it, Helen?" he asked gently.
He watched her get her emotions under control.
"My father has arranged a marriage for me," she told him.

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Part 4

Peter recalled the pain he felt at those words. It felt liked he had been punched in the stomach but had no idea what to say. He said nothing and she went on.
"Mr. Collins would also become Papa's partner in the shop. Papa is getting older and he would like a partner. He wants grandchildren." Helen's voice trailed off.
Peter finally found his voice. "Is this what you want?"
Peter saw the plea in her eyes for him to say more but he waited for her answer.
"It is a very good proposal. I am not likely to get any other. I am no beauty and a bit of a bluestocking. I have only a small dowry beyond the partnership in the shop."
She waited, looking at Peter to say something.
Peter could not understand the pain he felt. It wasn't as if he could offer for her himself. She would not be considered a suitable partner for him he knew. The Quality did not marry tradesmen's daughters. Besides he was too young to consider marriage. He had a fairly generous allowance but no money or property of his own. All of these thoughts went rapidly through his mind. Helen watched him. He knew he should say something. He should have at least disputed her claim that she was no beauty. She would not be classified as a beauty amongst the ton in London but neither was she an antidote. When her face lit up with a smile, or she passionately talked on topics of special interest to her, or listened with such rapt attention to him, he had been aware of an inner beauty shining through that was more mesmerizing than anything he had known before. He would no longer get to bask in that loveliness. It would shine on another man. Peter felt Helen's eyes on him. He saw a glimmer of hope there. He was quite sure he knew what she wished for but would never say. He, too, would leave it unsaid. When he finally spoke, he said, "Then I guess I should wish you happy." He saw the hurt before she schooled her features and pasted a false smile on her face.
"Thank you, my lord," she said with a new formality.
"Good day, Miss Webster," Peter replied with equal formality before he turned and left the shop.
Peter never saw her again but that false smile haunted him. He made excuses not to accompany Thalia any time she wished to visit the book store. Thalia told him of Miss Webster's engagement to Mr. Collins. Mr. Collins had replaced Miss Webster working in the bookstore and Thalia missed Miss Webster's assistance in finding books. After Peter's grandmother's funeral, his family made arrangements to leave Bath. The day before he left he decided to accompany Thalia to the bookshop. It had been three weeks since his Helen had married and two months since he'd last seen her. He wondered if he had hoped he would find her there; to see the bright smile he had witnessed that first day, that it might replace that false smile; that he could see the twinkle back in her eyes instead of the hurt. He met Mr. Collins instead. He found the man to be polite and seemingly kind. It helped his conscience some. That said gentleman was at least fifteen years older than Helen and solemn left him wondering if she would get the chance to shine again as she had in their times together.
Through the years, he found he compared every woman he met to her and all, he found, failed to measure up. None held his attention for any length of time. None erased Helen's face from his dreams.
He had finally accepted that his feelings for Helen had been love. It took him years to figure it out. He did not realize then what a special relationship they had had. He thought he would feel the same thing for another woman, a more suitable woman. The years proved the lie of that idea. He had a long list of 'if-onlys'. If only he had realized his true feelings; if only he had been brave enough to face possible censure from his parents and society; if only he had been financially independent; if only he had been older and wiser.

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Part 5

As Peter was revisiting those months in Bath twelve years earlier, Thalia's mind was busy recalling her London comeout two years later. Oh how she had dreaded going. At twenty, she was nearly a spinster by society's standards. As if her advanced age were not enough, she knew that she was different as could be from the popular idea of what made a young woman attractive. Tiny blondes were preferred by gentlemen, not tall brunettes. Nor could she bring herself to be simpering, lash-fluttering and prone to having attacks of the vapours. Still, she could not properly enter society and marry without being presented at court and she did so want to have her own home and children. She was fortunate to have Peter and Nick to bolster her spirits and make sure she had dancing partners. She had found the first weeks tedious but bearable.
Then one night at Almack's, the Earl of Grenfield had asked one of the patronesses to introduce him to her and secured permission for her to waltz with him. Thalia had found herself almost breathless and, uncharacteristically, had difficulty speaking. She had thought herself used to tall, handsome men since she spent so much time with Nick and Peter. Grenfield was, to her, stunning in every way. He was eight years her senior and somewhat serious minded. He had had responsibility thrust on him early as he inherited the title at the young age of twenty-one. Once he favoured her with his attention, other gentlemen suddenly started noticing her. Her dance cards were filled at all dances and balls she attended from then on with the Earl usually reserving the dinner dance. He took her out for drives in the afternoons and to the opera in the evening. It was a magical, golden time for Thalia. The day finally came that he spoke to her father and then met with her asking for her hand. It was all so dreamlike now that Thalia wondered what had been real and what had been her fancy. Her parents were thrilled. They considered it something of a coup that she, daughter of a baron, had captured an earl and a wealthy one at that. It was beyond their greatest expectations. The title and money were unimportant to Thalia. It was the man that had captured her. His physical beauty stole her breath; his intent way of listening to her, making her feel important stole her heart; and his smiles which he seemed to reserve just for her stole her soul.
She had been brought to reality by her mother's talk on the eve of her wedding. Thalia had it impressed upon her that she was about to become a countess and so must change her ways. Although her mother conceded that Thalia had excellent manners and had never done anything wrong, exactly, a countess must be a model of propriety. She must take on the responsibility of aiding her husband in all he did which included dealing with all matters pertinent to the running of his households and raising the children. An earl must never be bothered with such matters. The picture her mother painted of her future was quite different from the one Thalia had envisioned. She pictured them sharing their days and raising their children together. Thalia had thought to protest but then she recalled the serious demeanor the Earl seemed to wear whenever there were other people around. She started to doubt the earl had accepted her as she was; that he might expect her to change to the type of woman her mother was describing. She made a vow to herself that night to become the countess her earl deserved.

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