Something that came to me. Sara may be a little out of character.

It is a wretched thing, Colin Craven mused, to fall in love and have your heart broken. Twice. The first time, he hadn't seen it coming, though his father had. Mary had been firmly besotted with Dickon since forever, and even if it caused talk, Archibald had bought the boy a commission, alongside Colin. They'd come up as Majors together, Dickon gaining rank and fame alongside General Jack Seeley and Warrior when he rode with them in several battles.

Colin didn't begrudge his friend his fame. Dickon was more an unsung hero than anything else, though it had smoothed the way for his marriage, to Mary Lennox of all people. Mary had laughed outright when people accused her of grabbing at a well-known soldier, only to show them a photograph of her and Dickon as children. It had been hard to watch, though. He'd loved Mary too, but had never measured up to the lad from Yorkshire.

The second time was happening in front of his eyes. He was sitting with a Tom Carrisford, having replaced the gentleman's doctor recently. He'd warned Colin that his former ward was still living with him and that she tended to fuss when the doctors were around. He said it with good humour, but when he explained the poor girl's father had died of illness, and that he'd been ill at the time he took her in, his eyes darkened.

That ward had arrived, spoken with the servant, and shrieked when she heard Tom was enclosed with his doctor. She had just rushed in, exclaiming

"Oh Tom, you didn't! Please tell me you aren't sick again!" Carrisford, neatly attired for the day, rose to reassure the chit that he was fine, while Colin stared at her. Glossy black curls and smoky grey eyes paired with a shapely figure made for a beautiful woman, one who turned to snap at him

"If he's fine, why are you here?" Colin noticed how Carrisford ran a hand over the girl's hair, rebuking gently

"Sara, pet, no need to worry. Dr. Craven took over my usual physicians' practice and wanted to meet with me." She softened, leaning against the man, turning to apologize

"I'm terribly sorry, Dr. Craven. I'm Sara Crewe, Tom's former ward." Idly going through the motions, Colin wondered if they were aware of how badly they were telegraphing their closeness. Sara had nearly pasted herself to the older gentleman, casting skittish looks at Colin as if afraid he'd revoke Carrisford's good health. Carrisford wasn't much better, keeping Sara in his arms.

Oh yes, Colin thought grimly, he was falling in love again. Apparently his type was the untouchable. Mary had chosen Dickon, as Sara apparently had Carrisford. If she wasn't looking at the older man with pure adoration, he might have thought he had a shot. But Sara remains steadfast in her affection for Tom.

It surprises Colin, though, how she eases when he makes it clear he only returns to be absolutely sure Carrisford isn't ill. He supposes, a few visits after that first one, he could have been wrong about the way Sara loves Carrisford, but he knows better. If they aren't lovers, they do not have long, he thinks.

There is little solace for a man who loves the woman of another man. This he knows only to well, and when, down the road, he meets Finn Taverner, who later confesses he's not actually Finn, that the real Finn Taverner is in Brazil with the love of his life, and Clovis has always envied him that, well. Colin gives the younger man what advice he can, but it only proves a theory from his earlier years- women are trouble.