Hello! Some quick points to note here for returning Exceptions fans: this story will take place prior to my old one, and will feature stand-alone chapters detailing events from the lives of Richard and Diana when they first meet, up until the fateful proposal. I have no concrete plans for this story apart from a few integral scenes that I want to share with you, so please feel free to review and let me know if there's anything you're curious to see, or any characters that you want to learn more about!

This chapter takes places soon after Diana and her mother move to London, following the tragic death of her father. It's her first meeting with Richard, and the Fitzwilliam family as well, so I am interested to see what you make of it. Needless to say, there will be hints at the future that we all enjoy but for the most part the romance will be subtle, since I want to stay true to character and to the spirit of my original story: Diana and Richard were friends first, before anything else, after all.

I hope you all enjoy this! There's a new Pinterest board up for this one, on my current page (username: ladystarkff). Remember to review so I can feel like a writer again; it's been too long! Much love xx


The First Meeting

"I do not want to go to a ball!"

"It is a dinner. And you will go!"

"I won't!"

"Sarah!" Mina Harris stuck her head out of her daughter's bedroom door and yelled down for the maid. Without waiting to see if she'd heard, she turned back to her daughter. Diana sat on the middle of her bed defiantly, still in her day-dress, with her hair untidily strewn across her shoulders. Her eyes glinted dangerously, the blue irises a stark contrast against her dark hair and pale skin. She looked nothing like her mother – every inch of her, from the high forehead to the too-long fingers, was a mirror image of her father. And just like her father, she seemed to thrive off of driving Mina insane.

"Do not bother calling her, because I won't go," said Diana. Knowing exactly what would annoy her mother, she turned back to her book, ignoring the older woman completely.

Her mother's face reddened. "You will get dressed, you will go to dinner, and you will like it. Unless you want me to take away your books and your music? Perhaps for longer than a week this time?"

Diana's eyes shot up from the page she was pretending to read, and finally they seemed wary. "You wouldn't do that."

"I would and I can," Mina folded her arms across her chest. "However, I will admit, for both of our sakes, it is better if I do not. Come to dinner and I will let you stay home for the next two weeks."

Frustrated, Diana threw the book to one side and glared at her mother. Mina knew immediately she had won. "Do I no longer have any choice in my life?" demanded Diana.

"You will do as you're told," pleased, Mina turned to leave the room, almost colliding head-on with the maid. "Why are you still standing here? Give her the green silk," snapped Mina. "And if you are even a second late, Diana, I willlock you in here until further notice."

Diana waited until her mother had left the room before she picked up the heavy book she had been reading, throwing it with all her might at the closed door. It would have made a loud noise, and perhaps even a dent, if Sarah hadn't caught it just before it made contact with the wood.

Giving the other girl a reproachful look, Sarah put the book on a table and went to the cupboard to search for the dress. She was slight, and rather mousey, with a tendency to run out of the room at the first sign of conflict between mother and daughter. However, she was also the closest thing Diana had to a friend in London, both girls having grown up together prior to their arrival, and everyone knew it. She tried to ignore how Diana had smothered her face into a pillow, her screams muffled by the heavy material. Knowing what would happen next, she waited until Diana had thrown the pillow away and flopped back down onto the bed, her anger spent.

"You shouldn't antagonize her," said Sarah gently, when there was silence. "She is upset as well."

Diana sat up and glared at her friend. "She is not, Sarah. You don't have to humanize her all the time."

Sarah did not answer. She took out the dress and a few other items, turning back to Diana and gesturing to the dressing-table. "Shall I make your hair?"

"As ugly as you can," still scowling, Diana flopped down onto the stool and gazed at her reflection moodily. "I hate London."

"You will like it once you leave the house, miss," said Sarah, picking up a brush and tapping it against her chin thoughtfully. The unmanageable tangles would need to be combed out first, but a lovely, low bun would be just proper enough to appease her mother, and yet comfortable enough that Diana would not fuss over it.

"I hate this house too. It's too small," complained Diana.

"Houses in London are all this size," said Sarah, beginning to comb Diana's hair. "The Fitzwilliams have a nice, big house, and I hear they even have a library. Perhaps you will be able to visit there more often."

Diana sniffed. "I hardly know them."

"They found us this house, Lady Fitzwilliam came to the funeral, and she and Lord Fitzwilliam have visited here every day," reminded Sarah. "You just have not seen them."

"I don't want to see anyone."

"Of course, miss," Sarah smiled sympathetically. "But you may enjoy yourself. They have two sons, not too much older than yourself, I think."

Diana's expression darkened even further. "Is that why mother insists I must go?"

"I doubt it," Sarah continued to comb her hair, as if Diana did not look as though she was capable of killing her mother. "The oldest son is courting someone, and the lady is very pretty and very rich. The younger one is a bit of a rogue, I believe he is only just back from Cambridge. But he will inherit no money and no title. Mrs. Harris would not approve."

Diana tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Perhaps I should marry him, then."

"Oh, do not joke," Sarah scolded lightly. "Try to be genial, miss. It will do you good to have friends here."

"I have you," tone and expression lighter, Diana smiled at Sarah through the mirror. "Who else do I need?"

Sarah smiled back, but shook her head. "Someone you can go on walks with, and so you may enjoy balls once the season starts. Perhaps the Fitzwilliam men will know some young women you can be introduced to. That is why Mrs. Harris wants you to make a good impression at dinner," she added, when Diana once again looked surly at the mention of her hosts' sons. "The Fitzwilliams are a very good family, wealthy and respectable. Their connections will do you good."

Diana sighed. "Very well. I will try and be cordial. Can I wear the blue silk instead?"

Sarah's lips twitched. "Mrs. Harris will not be pleased, miss."

"I can tell her I ripped the sleeve of the green one in a rage. Please, Sarah?"

"I suppose," trying to hide her smile, Sarah began to wind locks of hair around her fingers. "Now hold still so we may make you pretty for your future husband."

Diana's eyes widened. "Sarah!"

Sarah laughed.

{-}

Richard tugged at the collar of his shirt in annoyance, exchanging a look with his brother. His older brother looked bored, but then again Henry always looked bored. In response to Richard's fidgeting, Henry merely raised an eyebrow, his eyes flickering to the drinks tray, which had been set up in all its glory, and then back. The message was clear. He could not make an excuse to leave, not until their guests appeared. Particularly guests whose arrival was so highly anticipated. Rolling his eyes, Richard raised his glass to indicate he had understood and tried not to draw his mother's attention.

Lady Alexandra Fitzwillam was insistent that they both sit with her friend, the newly-widowed Mina Harris. Richard did not see the appeal, but his mother had specifically gone down to Devon for the man's funeral, and his father had helped her rent rooms in London, since she planned to settle in town for the season. He had been surprised to hear that, assuming that she would stay at her late husband's estate in mourning, but something in his mother's voice as she spoke of her friend told him the news was not shocking to those who knew Mrs. Harris. He had not listened much, which he now realized was detrimental since, other than her name and widow-status, he did not know much about their guest tonight. Had his father said she had a son? Was that who the extra place setting was for?

They all heard the carriage pull up at the same time, and his mother cleared her throat daintily. As if given a signal, Richard and Henry stood up and their father went to the door to receive the woman personally. Richard raised his eyebrows and exchanged another look with Henry who, though slightly taken aback by their father's gesture, did not seem wholly surprised by it. Richard did see his brother's eyes widen when their father re-entered the room, however, and he turned to the door to see why.

Oh. Mina Harris was not the only guest tonight, and he had been completely incorrect in thinking she had a son. She had, in fact, a daughter, a girl no older than eighteen, with dark blue eyes the same colour as her dress, and inky black hair piled on top of her head to show off her elegant, pale neck. For a few moments, Richard was speechless. The two women looked nothing alike, and if his father had not at that moment taken the girl's hand and introduced her as Diana Harris, he would not have known they were related. Mina Harris was short and thin, with brown hair, a small mouth and sharp but deep-set eyes. She looked as though she had not slept in weeks, and even as she hugged his mother and smiled, Richard did not think it reached her eyes.

But Diana Harris was a different story. Richard tried to observe her from the corner of his eye as she was introduced to his brother by his father, whilst he stood by his mother. She was certainly beautiful, in a striking way that made him want to turn his head and look at her again, but there was something else he could not quite pinpoint. The way she carried herself seemed… off.

"Of course, you remember Richard," his mother was saying, patting his arm. He immediately smiled and took Mrs. Harris's hand, bowing over it politely. "He came back from Derbyshire just last week, after visiting Pemberley," Lady Fitzwilliam continued. "I thought it would be nice for the children to all know one another, before the season begins."

Mina Harris smiled, but again it did not reach her eyes. "That is very kind of you, Alexandra. I am in your debt, as always."

"Do not be silly," waving away her friend's words, Lady Fitzwilliam turned and beckoned over the others. "Diana, my dear, you look wonderful," smiling, she pulled the girl in for a hug. The girl accepted the embrace but remained limp in his mother's arms. In fact, Richard saw Diana look at Mina from over Lady Alexandra's shoulder, her eyes dull.

Lady Alexandra pulled back and still held Diana's hands tightly, so Richard merely smiled and bowed as he was introduced. Diana curtseyed prettily enough, but her eyes, after a quick glance at his face, darted to the floor. They were blue.

"Temperamental," murmured Henry from next to him, and Richard turned to look at him. Henry indicated the girl discreetly as they took a few steps away from their parents and guests. "That is what the mother calls her. She has been unmanageable since the father died, apparently, resisting the move to London and screaming every time they try to make her leave the house. Mamma mentioned it to me last night, said we ought to be careful."

"Careful?" Richard raised an eyebrow. "She is a child, Henry."

"I agree. She looks dismal."

"You almost sound sympathetic."

"I pity her," Henry shrugged. "The mother wants her married off, preferably to someone with money."

Richard glanced back at Diana, who was still staring at the floor. "I don't know how well that will work."

"I'm second-guessing mamma's assessment."

"I don't think you should," said Richard. He continued to look at Diana, who still hadn't raised her eyes from the floor. "She has a look about her."

Henry did not answer, frowning at their parents. He was clearly disapproving of their inability to see how uncomfortable they were making the girl, since she had yet to say a word or even act as though she was aware of her surroundings. Ever since Henry had begun courting Miss Emily Davenport, Richard had begun to notice such changes in him. He was kinder, and certainly more attentive towards those younger than him. Uncharacteristically for Henry, he suddenly stepped into the circle and said, loudly, "Miss Harris, would you like a seat?"

"Oh, how silly of me!" smiling, Lady Fitzwilliam tugged Diana out of the closely knit group and towards where Richard was standing. "I am so sorry, my dear. Do sit down and make yourself comfortable."

Diana murmured a thank you and sat down, her fingers drumming against the arm of her chair absently. Henry sat next to her and picked up his glass, clearly satisfied with his one good deed of the day. Richard picked up his own drink, taking a seat by his father as the elders finally settled as well.

Diana did not speak for over thirty minutes. Henry did not notice her silence, he was too involved in a conversation with his father. Their mother and Mrs. Harris were huddled together and whispering, occasionally glancing at Diana. Richard tried not to look at the girl seated next to him, knowing she would not appreciate it. Her fingers had not stopped moving since she had sat down, and she had only looked up once, when her mother had distinctly said her name in a tone of voice that was full of disapproval. Richard had seen her sneer briefly, the most expression he had ever seen on her face, before looking down again.

"Richard?" his father's voice drew him out of his reverie, and he looked up as both he and Henry held out their glasses to him.

Rolling his eyes, he refreshed their drinks and was just about to try and join in their conversation when his father suddenly addressed Diana. "You play the pianoforte, do you not, Miss Harris?"

Diana raised her eyes only a little, to show she was listening, but not enough that they could see her expression. Wordlessly, she nodded, a quick jerk of her head. She still did not speak.

Lord Fitzwilliam was not perturbed. "We have a pianoforte rusting away in the library, of no use to anyone since my boys do not play," he said, his voice friendly. Richard and Henry exchanged curious looks. "We saved it for Miss Darcy, but she has her own now, in Darcy House. Perhaps I could convince your mother to shift it to your home, while you are in London?"

Diana's eyes, which had gone back to the floor, suddenly shot up to look at him.

Richard felt as though he needed to take a step back, even though it was not him she was looking towards. Her eyes were too sharp, and hard. The dark pools of blue, the colour of the starless night sky, or a raging sea before a storm; any number of metaphors sprung to mind, but nothing quite described Diana's eyes as she gazed at Lord Fitzwilliam unblinkingly. The amount of pain in her gaze was what struck Richard the most. Surely a girl of her age should not look as though she had watched the world burn, leaving her the sole survivor?

Richard's observation lasted only a few seconds, though it felt like longer. Suddenly, Diana was blinking and looking back at the floor, tucking a loose curl behind her ear. But she was smiling now, a small quirk of her lips, and her pale cheeks were flush with colour. When she looked up again, she was a different person: a girl again, instead of a woman filled with pain.

"Thank you, sir," she said, and her voice was lilting, almost musical. "You are very kind."

Lord Fitzwilliam grinned, and the twinkle in his eyes told his sons that he had been hoping for such a reaction. "I'll have it sent over first thing in the morning," he promised. "Perhaps you can even play with my boy one evening, as a treat. He has quite the voice."

"Hardly a praiseworthy voice, father," Richard protested immediately. "And we do not even know if Miss Harris sings. I always prefer to duet."

Henry chuckled as his brother was suddenly put on the spot. "You certainly never mind the solo attention when you are talking."

"I can sing," said Diana immediately, and immediately the three men turned to her. She did not seem bothered, and she did not turn her eyes down, as some young women did, when men looked at them to speak. She merely tilted her head to the side, her eyes sliding over to Richard. "Do you like music, Mr. Fitzwilliam?"

Richard nodded dumbly, unable to speak. Diana's eyes had lightened, along with her tone, but he found that this girl was infinitely more difficult to accept. Her eyes were not dark blue at all, but a clear, light blue, like the sky on a sunny day. They also looked as though they had seen right through him, even though she barely glanced at him for longer than a few seconds, before turning to his brother as he took over the conversation.

Richard blinked and cleared his throat, turning back to the table with drinks and pouring himself another one. He was unused to women reacting to him this way. Often, they fell over themselves trying to be agreeable, knowing he was the son of a peer and a favourite cousin of Mr. Darcy of Pemberley. He was used to women of meagre means eagerly asking after his family, his home, even his horses. Never had a woman asked him if he liked music, or what books he read, or anything of the sort. And if they were not being agreeable, a hint of his lack of fortune as a younger son usually meant they turned their nose up at him and stalked off. Diana had merely addressed him as if he was any other man.

It was a feeling, Richard realized with a jolt, that he rather liked.

{-}

Diana could feel her annoyance lift after Lord Fitzwilliam's offer to send her a pianoforte. She had made up her mind to be silent, sulky, and altogether disagreeable for the duration of their visit but the family had thrown her right from the beginning. Lady Fitzwilliam had hugged her, and her gentle, maternal embrace had terrified Diana. Every time she saw just how pleasant and kind mothers were supposed to be, it made her resent her own even more. And then the elder son, Henry, had been kind as well, silently sitting next to her and allowing her to be silent, as if he were an elder brother tolerating a younger sibling's tantrums. The younger son, Richard, had tried to pretend he was not constantly looking at her, but he had not spoken, and she had appreciated that as well.

But then he had spoken, and suddenly they had all been looking at her, and she had not felt afraid in the slightest. There was something warm in their eyes as they all waited for her to speak, and Diana found herself smiling despite herself.

"Have you been enjoying town, Miss Harris?" Henry Fitzwilliam's voice drew her out of her reverie, and she looked at him. The men had been talking amongst themselves for a few minutes now, and this was the third time one of them had addressed her. Diana knew they were trying to draw her into conversation, to make her more comfortable, and she did not have the heart to reject their efforts.

"No," she said simply. "I do not like London."

She had expected at least one of them to be offended at that. From what she could gather, the Fitzwilliams were a fashionable family who spent a great deal of time in London. To her surprise, however, all three of them looked relieved.

"Thank God," muttered Richard, ignoring the pointed look of disapproval his father threw him. "What? She said what we have all been thinking," he defended himself. Diana raised an eyebrow, and he grinned at her, his face the perfect picture of friendliness. "We must let you in on the secret now. You see, we despise town, Miss Harris."

"But I thought –"

"Alexandra loves it," muttered Lord Fitzwilliam grumpily. "She has all her friends here, naturally she expects us to like it as well."

"But we do not," Henry rolled his eyes. "Richard prefers our cousin's company, and our father wants to read and hunt in his spare time."

"Henry used to hate London as much as us, but that is no longer the case," said Richard teasingly. Diana smiled, remembering Sarah's words that the elder Mr. Fitzwilliam was courting a lady in town. "I have no doubt you will meet the lovely Miss Emily soon, Miss Harris."

"I look forward to it," said Diana, offering Henry a smile when he looked annoyed at his brother's remark.

Lord Fitzwilliam chuckled, and then promptly made a face when his wife called him over to the corner of the room where she was sitting with Mrs. Harris. "Wish me luck," he muttered, getting up out of his chair and making his way towards her, the picture of deference.

Diana watched him go, still smiling, and when she turned back, the two Fitzwilliam boys were watching her curiously.

"Yes?" she asked self-consciously.

"We expected you to be a terror," said Richard bluntly, even as Henry not-so-discreetly nudged him in the side. Richard ignored him, fixing Diana with a look. "Are you?"

"My mother seems to think so," said Diana, keeping her voice even.

"I assure you, we did not mean –" began Henry hastily.

"That's alright," Diana waved away his apologies. "I do not want to be here, Mr. Fitzwilliam, that is no secret."

"Here in London, or here in our home?" asked Richard.

Diana shrugged one shoulder. "What does it matter? I am here now."

"Precisely," said Henry hastily. "Richard, where are your manners? She is our guest."

"Of course. My apologies," he did not sound apologetic in the slightest. Diana glanced at him curiously, and saw that he was smirking. She noticed that his eyes were a particularly nice shade of hazel, like melted honey. She decided she rather liked the colour.

They spoke idly for several minutes after that, and dinner was announced not long after. Even at the table, Diana noted the way the family behaved, and the informal way both Lord and Lady Fitzwilliam addressed her mother. How long had they known each other? In her own grief, and her unwillingness to attend the gathering, Diana had neglected to ask for any information about their hosts. Mrs. Harris, to her credit, was being much more agreeable than she had been for weeks now. She smiled, complimented each dish, engaged in conversation with the two boys, and did not even seem bothered when Lord Fitzwilliam informed her he would be sending Diana a pianoforte.

"You are so kind," she said, smiling and shaking her head. "I will not dissuade you. It will do the child some good to have a distraction."

Diana heard the affectionate tone in her mother's voice and genuinely assumed she was speaking about someone else – quickly, she glanced at her mother, her expression full of surprise, and realized that she had indeed been talking about her. Blushing from embarrassment, she looked away. However, Richard Fitzwilliam had seen her.

He cleared his throat, clearly awkward at having been caught looking at her. Diana turned even redder and fixed her eyes back on her plate. It would have been better if she had kept to her decision and stayed surly. The Fitzwilliams were kind, but she did not know them, and she was not comfortable with how much they seemed to know about her.

The scraping of chairs made her jump, and she realized that her mother and Lady Fitzwilliam were getting up, while the three men made no move to leave. Trying not to show her disappointment, she got up and followed her mother, though she could have sworn Richard almost seemed to look sympathetic as she left the room.

Neither of them had anything to fear, however. Diana was quickly learning that Lady Alexandra was everything her own mother was not. As if she knew exactly how uncomfortable Diana was, Lady Alexandra pointed out an open door that had so far remained close at the end of the parlour, giving Diana a conspiratorial look. "I do believe the piano my husband was talking about earlier is in there, my dear. Would you play a little something for us, to pass the time?"

Diana's eyes lit up. Once she was sure her mother would not object, she practically ran to the room, the ice around her heart melting when she saw that the candles had been freshly lit, and sheet music had been set out on the piano bench for her. Picking up something at random and not caring what it was, Diana gingerly sat down and rested her fingers against the keys, her eyes filling with unbidden tears. Her own pianoforte was still in Devon, and she had not played since her father's death, when they had left the estate and never looked back. It had hurt to leave her home, her father's grave, all her memories, but it had hurt to leave her music the most. It had been the one thing that had given her solace, a way to bond with her father, who was an accomplished pianist himself. Music had been something even her mother had enjoyed.

Dwelling on the past would not do, though, and especially not here. Diana sniffed and quickly set up the music, pressing a few keys to check if the tuning was correct. It was – she raised an eyebrow, but did not allow herself to think of the obvious lengths to which the Fitzwilliams had gone to, to make her feel comfortable in their home. For a moment, she hesitated, wondering if she still remembered how to. However, she needn't have worried. Once she had familiarised herself with the notes, she found herself playing as effortlessly as if she had never stopped.

Diana did not know how much time had passed, when she saw someone from the corner of her eye enter the room and pause in the doorway. She did not stop playing, letting the familiar sounds of the music wash over her. The song ended, but she merely kept playing, easily switching to an older piece that she knew by heart. A few minutes after, she saw Richard Fitzwilliam venture further into the room, and finally looked up.

"Pardon me," he said, and his voice was loud enough to reach her despite the fact that she was still playing.

"It's quite alright," she answered. She slowed down her playing, thinking he had come to summon her back, but he immediately gestured for her to continue.

"Please, carry on," he said. To her surprise, he stuck his head out the door and said something, which resulted in his brother joining him a few seconds later. Henry grinned at her, and both men sat down, close enough to speak to her, but also far enough that they could all be seen from the other room.

Diana did not question their odd behaviour. They had been kind to her, and she did not want to seem ungrateful. She continued to play, and Richard picked up a book. Henry, however, was listening intently. When the song finished, he was clapping softly before she could continue to another one.

"You are very good, Miss Harris," he complimented. "I do not think I have ever seen anyone play for so long without having to consult notes."

Diana smiled and bowed her head slightly, accepting the praise. "I had a good teacher."

"A music master?" questioned Henry.

"No, my father," said Diana softly. Before either man could react, she quickly switched pieces and began to play a much livelier piece, returning Richard's smile when he looked up from his book.

"You will be a hit with the women at the parties our mother throws," said Richard.

"Oh?" Diana raised an eyebrow.

"He means they are always looking for someone to play a song that they can have a dance to," said Henry. "Of course, you would be expected to dance as well, but very few ladies of our acquaintance can play as well as you."

"Ah, I wouldn't say that. Darcy has that friend, his sister is quite insistent on pointing out how accomplished she is all the time," added Richard. "You two ought to have a competition."

Diana snorted. "I am hardly accomplished. We did not have music masters and fine teachers in the country."

"But you had some instruction, did you not?" asked Henry curiously.

"Some," Diana shrugged and switched songs again, trying to hide her smile when Richard quirked an eyebrow at the Italian opera she was attempting to remember the notes to. "My father taught me music after an unfortunate incident with a music master. My mother employed tutors for all the rest."

"What kind of incident?" asked Richard.

Diana hesitated, and then decided she did not care if Richard Fitzwilliam thought she was a brat. "He made a comment I did not like. I closed the lid of the instrument over his fingers."

Henry blinked owlishly, as if he was unable to understand what she had just said. Diana's cheeks turned pink and she busied herself with the music again. The tense silence only lasted a few seconds. It was broken when Richard let out a loud guffaw.

"Can he still play?" he asked, still chuckling.

Diana's lips twitched. "No."

Both the brothers laughed at that, and Diana could not help but laugh with them.

{-}

"Have you been to the shops yet, my dear?"

Diana looked up from her cup of tea and shook her head wordlessly at Lady Fitzwilliam's question. Sensing her mother's look, however, she further elaborated. "I am not fond of shopping, my lady."

She knew immediately it was the wrong thing to say, since she distinctly heard Richard Fitzwilliam laugh from next to her, disguising the noise as a cough. Her mother was now glaring at her. Fortunately, Lady Fitzwilliam did not seem bothered.

"You have just not gone out with me yet," she sniffed. "Your mother says you are to come to Almack's next week, we must get you properly outfitted before then."

"I did not know I was invited, my lady."

"Oh, leave that to me," Lady Fitzwilliam waved a hand flippantly. "You must have a few new dresses for the season as well. Mina, would you be willing to sacrifice an afternoon with your lovely daughter, so I may take her to our tailors'?"

"Of course, Alexandra," said Mrs. Harris.

Diana had no doubt this was what her mother had planned from the beginning, and felt her mood turn sour again. Would she ever stop parading Diana around as a means to an end?

"You might take her to the music store across from your milliner's as well," said Lord Fitzwilliam suddenly. Diana's eyes darted up to his in surprise. Subtly, he winked at her. "Monsieur Dupree has quite a collection, and the child will need something to play once we send the pianoforte tomorrow."

Lady Fitzwilliam agreed, and Diana found herself joining in the conversation after that. It was just so difficult, to be constantly miserable in the company of people who were so happy, and at no expense to herself. It did not matter how much attention they gave her: in reality, they seemed to be giving her very little, seemingly content to let her sit in silence and only join in as she pleased. It was refreshing to not have to smile constantly or pretend to be interested in things she found no joy in. She was almost sorry when the chimes from the grandfather clock in the hallway told them what time it was, signalling their departure.

"I will call on you first thing tomorrow and see about taking you shopping," promised Lady Fitzwilliam as she hugged Diana goodbye. This time, Diana drew her arms cautiously around the older woman and hugged her back, very briefly. She did not think she was imaging the happy gleam in her eye when she pulled away. "If not tomorrow, then definitely the day after," added Lady Fitzwilliam.

"But your pianoforte will be with you by tomorrow," added Lord Fitzwilliam. "On the condition, of course, that you play at the dinner we are having in a fortnight's time."

Diana blushed, but did not argue. She had no doubt that he would have forgotten all about this promise by the time the dinner actually came around, but she did not want to voice her concerns out loud. Instead, she curtsied and smiled and thanked him as earnestly as she could, before turning to say her goodbyes to the two young men waiting by the door.

Henry was the first to step forward, smiling kindly and yet a little awkwardly. "It was very nice to meet you, Miss Harris."

"And you," she smiled back. "Thank you for being so kind to me."

"We had no reason not to be," said Richard. One look at his face told Diana he still had not quite figured out if he liked her or not. Clearly, he was not as easy to win over as his brother, though much easier to read. "It was a pleasure to hear you play, as well."

Diana inclined her head at his compliment, but did not speak. Henry nudged his brother pointedly and Diana glanced at him, realizing immediately that she had been staring at Richard. "Well," Henry cleared his throat. "We hope you can count us as friends from now on, Miss Harris. London is much more tolerable when you know someone at those blasted balls."

"Particularly more so if you know who to hide from," added Richard.

Diana was slightly taken aback by their frankness. "That would be nice," she said, not knowing what else to say. Her mother called her at that moment and she obediently turned to follow her out of the room. Despite herself, she found her eyes wandering back as they crossed the threshold, just in time to see the family of four – united by more than just familial obligation – turn away as the door closed behind them. Almost immediately, she felt the good humour and love that she had been cocooned in all evening dissipate, and tried not to let her face fall as she climbed up into the carriage after her mother and drove back to their rented rooms in the city she hated.

Only, she did not hate it so much anymore.