“Fascinating,” Susanna exclaimed softly.
“James came from a good family. His father was headmaster at Eton but passed away while James fought in France. His mother’s sister married well, a baron of a small county in Dorset. The aunt was acquainted with my mother and how James and I became acquainted. Now, I will always remember the exact moment we met. It was at the Henderson’s ball, my first season out. I was just returning from the dance floor, and his gaze ensnared me from across the room. His eyes were the clearest blue, like a summer sky. I glanced around, thinking he was staring at someone nearby, but then he began to cross the room toward me. He didn’t weave around guests but rather strode right through groups and couples to reach me. He bowed and introduced himself. So scandalous, but it made my heart flutter at his boldness.” She sighed and picked up another letter. This one made her blush. “I can see that you all have read that our relationship quickly moved to a full-on love affair. I took so many risks to be with this man. He was like a tornado of emotions, and you couldn’t help but get sucked up into the whirl and power of them.”
Olivia couldn’t help but think about the whirl of emotions she felt every moment she was near Max. A mixture of exasperation, amusement, the ache of old hurt, confusion, and desire. She never could keep her wits firmly about her when he made it his mission to charm her. All the bitterness from the past melted away with every kiss of his lips. His single-minded pursuit to rekindle their relationship had left her no time to think or to reflect whether trusting him with her heart again might be the most foolish decision ever.
“What happened to split you apart?” Olivia asked. “Was it your family?”
Diana nodded. “My mother turned a blind eye to the letters. She was so focused on my older sister, Agatha, Daniel and Miles’s mother. Agatha had caught the eye of the Marquess of Hawksridge. There was a whirlwind of activity that summer to get ready for their nuptials. Of course, it didn’t help that Agatha and Hawksridge were madly in love. It only fueled my fantasies about how love could conquer all.” She paused and took a sip of her tea.
“When my mother finally realized that the infatuation had moved past just letters, that I had compromised myself, she was frantic to cover up what she saw as a failure in her mothering. I tried to assure her that James was wonderful, that we would marry once he had some money saved. My mother wouldn’t listen. All she knew was that he was a writer with no income, a man with no title. She forbade me from seeing him and immediately began her search for a suitable husband for me. She scheduled every moment of my time, hired a companion for when she could not watch me. I obeyed her for a few months, but his desperate letters kept arriving, and that’s when I started hiding them all in the books. I was afraid that if my mother found them, she would destroy them.”
“But he came to see you in London,” Ellie said. “The letter described his jealousy over seeing you with other men.”
“Yes, he came to London. I’d broken down and written him about my upcoming betrothal to Lord Wells. And I let him come to me at night. He literally climbed through my window, like some hero in a novel.”
All of them nodded. Olivia sat forward in her chair, anxious to find out what happened next.
“James asked me to run away with him. He begged me to gather my things and leave that very night. But I refused. To run away meant to leave my family, my sister. My parents would surely disown me. James had no plan, no way for us to live. He promised he would figure it out if only I would trust him.” Her hands twisted together in her lap. “In the end, he said he understood. He apologized for his rashness and left. But it had been one risk too many. A servant saw him climb from my window and told my father.”
Ellie sat closest to Diana, and she laid her hand on the older woman’s clasped hands. “We read his last letter where he broke it off. It was his last letter, wasn’t it?”
Diana nodded. “I was devastated. But time and some measure of wisdom that comes with age have made me realize that I let the man I loved think that he was less than what I needed, that he wasn’t enough. I let my fears dictate my decision. It was no wonder when faced with my father’s anger; he gave up on us.”
Everyone was silent as they absorbed the tale. Diana glanced around. “Ladies, don’t look so morose. I married my George, he was a kind husband, and we grew quite fond of each other. But even that was short-lived. Life has many paths. All you can do is be open to what might be around the corner.” She smiled, but the edges were tinged with sadness. Olivia wondered if asking her to talk about her past love had been selfish of them.
Susanna’s forehead was wrinkled in thought. “Lady Wells, do you mind me asking, what was James’s family name?”
“James Marlow, why?”
“Aha! I knew it. Once you mentioned he had gained some fame for writing Waverly’s memoir, I thought it must be him. My father has read the memoir and has spoken about it at length at the dinner table. But ladies, we all know him from his other work,The Siren of Skye.”
Olivia nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, I remember that one. We read it maybe three years ago. How could we not recognize the similarities in the prose?” She turned to Diana. “We often share books that we enjoy. It is the foundation of our book club. And we all enjoyedThe Siren of Skyeimmensely. The author is James Marlow. Do you think it could be him?”
“Charlotte, do you still have a copy here in your library?” Susanna asked.
“Perhaps. It is all alphabetical by author. It would be there.” She pointed to a shelf across the room. Susanna jumped up and hurried over to scan the books.
“You’ve read a book calledThe Siren of Skye? That is the name of the story James started the month we spent at the seaside with his aunt. He would read to me from his pages as he wrote. I made him promise no blood or war. He promised me a happy ending.”
“Aha,” Susanna exclaimed from across the room. She returned to the group. “I’ve found it.” She handed the slim volume to Lady Wells.
Diana ran her finger across the gold embossed title. Then opened the cover and flipped through the pages. Her gasp pierced the quiet.
Ellie leaned over to see what had caused the reaction. “To Diana, forever my muse,” she read out loud.
Olivia swallowed a lump in her throat. Her eyes watered, and tears dampened her eyelashes. Dear Lord, the man had never stopped loving her. Luckily, when she glanced up, she was not the only one moved to tears. Charlotte, handkerchief already out, dabbed at her eyes. And Ellie sniffled, blinking rapidly.
Diana stared down at the page for several long moments. Then she rose to her feet. “Excuse me, ladies, I have some reading I would like to accomplish.”
“Thank you so much for sharing your story with us, Aunt Diana,” Charlotte said. “Don’t forget your letters.”
Diana scooped up the letters and clutched them and the book to her chest before exiting. Moments later, Daniel and Miles strode into the room. They glanced around, taking in all the sniffling noses and damp eyes.
“We’ve just passed Aunt Diana in the hall. There were tears running down her face. For goodness’ sake, what’s happened?” Daniel asked.
“He never stopped loving her,” Olivia said.
Miles’s brow furrowed. “He who?”