"Edward! Edward!"
The rider urged his horse to a canter and covered the distance between them in a few seconds.
"Theo!" He drew rein. "I was so hoping you'd be in. I was coming to find you."
"Edward." She said his name again, smiling up at him, and for a minute there was silence, but it was filled with so much unspoken emotion, so many thoughts, that the quiet seemed a rush of noise.
He still sat on his horse, the empty left-hand sleeve of his coat pinned across his breast, his right hand holding the reins. Then, with an awkward movement that was so unlike Edward's grace and agility, he swung himself to the ground.
"I still can't get the hang of that," he said. "My whole body's unbalanced, Theo. It makes me mad as fire to be so clumsy and unsteady."
"You'll get used to it," she said, coming into his embrace as he put his arm around her. She hugged him with fierce affection. "Oh, my dear, I have been anguished for you."
"It was my own damn fault," he declared, almost squeezing the life out of her. "Of all the goddamned arrogant, stupid things to have done. I should be dead, Theo!"
"Oh, don't say that!" She stood back and examined his face. He had aged, lines of suffering etched indelibly around his mouth and eyes, but the humorous light still glimmered in those green eyes, and his mouth retained its wry quirk.
"Have you seen Emily yet?"
Edward shook his head. "I only arrived home last night. I was on my way to the dower house, but I wanted to see you first." He ran his hand over his chin, his eyes suddenly stark. "I wanted you to come with me."
Theo understood immediately. He knew Emily's sensitive soul, and he was afraid to spring himself upon her as he now was.
"Emily was distraught," she said quietly. "But she'll be overjoyed to see you."
"Will she?" Then he dismissed the self-pitying question with typical briskness. "So will you come with me? Shall we fetch Dulcie, or shall we walk?"
"Oh, let's walk," Theo said, realizing that she was unwilling to go back to Stoneridge, to spoil this reunion with a return to the dismal tangle at home.
Edward paused, examining her, and she swore silently. They'd always had an uncanny ability to sense each other's innermost feelings.
"Shouldn't I pay my respects to your husband?" Edward asked.
"Not now," she said. "He's busy."
"Oh?" Edward continued to regard her. "I was surprised to hear your news. It seems very sudden."
"It was," she said, unable to hide the bitterness in her tone. "Four weeks from start to finish. Stoneridge doesn't dawdle when his mind is set."
Edward frowned. "What is it, Theo?"
No, she couldn't even tell Edward… Edward, from whom she'd never had any secrets, before whom she couldn't imagine feeling embarrassed or ashamed. She couldn't tell him, not yet, at least. Besides, he had troubles and insecurities of his own, and she would not lay her burdens on him now, even if they were tellable.
"Nothing serious, Edward. We're just a trifle at outs." The understatement of the year. "Shall I lead Robin? Then you can hold my hand." She smiled at him, and there was no further indication of her own turmoil.
Edward allowed himself to be diverted. Apprehension about his upcoming meeting with Emily had preoccupied him for too long to be put aside until it was over.
"Tell me how it happened." Theo demanded as they walked hand in hand across the cliff and to the drive that led to the dower house.
She listened. She heard the bitter, self-directed anger beneath the light description of his foolhardy stroll to the picket line; she heard the hideous agony behind his brief description of the amputation and the journey across Spain to the coast. But she made no more of it than her friend did. Emily would do the fussing, and Edward would expect it from her. He wouldn't expect it from his childhood comrade.
When they reached the dower house, Edward's firm step faltered. "I don't wish to startle her," he muttered. "Will you go in and warn her?"
"Warn her of what?" Theo inquired with a raised eyebrow. "Her fiance's return? For heaven's sake, Edward, you used to love to surprise her. Emily loves surprises. She'll burst into tears, of course, but tears of joy. She loves to cry with happiness."
"Oh, Theo," he said. "You know what I'm talking about."
"Yes, of course I do. And I'm telling you not to be such an idiot. Come on."
She tethered Robin to the gatepost of the dower house, then took Edward's hand, running him along the path. "Emily… Mama… Clarry… see who's here."
Elinor was in her boudoir when she heard Theo's exuberant tones quickly followed by Emily's cry. "Edward! Oh, Edward." And the sound from the hall became a confused turmoil of voices and tears.
Elinor went quietly downstairs, prepared to deal with the inevitable surge of emotions attendant on Edward's arrival.
Edward separated himself from his betrothed as Elinor descended the stairs. He came forward, holding out his hand. "Lady Belmont."
"Edward, dearest." Ignoring his hand, she embraced him. "How wonderful to see you."
Edward was flushed, and a determined look crossed his face. "Lady Belmont… Emily… I came to say that of course I am ready to release Emily from our engagement immediately."
There was a stunned silence; then Theo said, "Edward, you great gaby. How could you possibly say something so idiotish?"
Before Edward could respond, Emily had flung herself against his chest. "How could you possibly imagine it could make the slightest difference? Theo's right, you're a gaby, Edward!" She was weeping against his shirtfront, and he held her tightly, his eyes meeting Lady Belmont's. She shook her head at him in mock reproof and smiled.
"Can I see it, Edward?" Rosie's high voice broke into the tender scene.
"See what?" He released Emily and bent to embrace the girl.
"Where your arm ought to be," Rosie said matter-of-factly. "Is there a stump? Or does it stop right at the shoulder?"
"Oh, Rosie!" It was a universal groan.
"But I'm interested," the child persisted. "It's good to be interested. If you're not interested in things, you don't learn anything, Grandpapa said."
"Very true," Theo agreed. "But that doesn't permit such personal questions, you obnoxious brat."
"I'm not an obnoxious brat," Rosie declared, not at all offended. "Won't you show me, Edward?"
"One day," he said, laughing with the rest of them. Rosie had managed to turn his nightmare into an ordinary, interesting fact of life. She'd somehow managed to puncture his dread that his mutilation would disgust those he loved, would turn love into pity.
"Is it all healed?"
"Yes, but it's not very pretty." He glanced at Emily over the child's head. "It's very red and raw looking."
"Does it pain you?" The soft question was Emily's.
"When the wind's in the wrong direction," he said. "Come and walk with me, love."
Emily nodded, taking his outstretched hand.
"You will dine with us, I hope, Edward?" Elinor said.
"Yes, if I may," he responded.
"In that case I hope the invitation extends to me," Theo declared.
"What of Stoneridge?" Edward raised an eyebrow.
"He has a previous engagement," she said firmly.
For an instant the temptation to pour out her heart to her mother, weep her anger and mortification away, receive the comfort Elinor always had to offer, almost got the better of her. And then she smiled briefly and said, "He went into Dorchester on business. He'll be dining there."