Diana could not sleep.

It was ridiculous for her to feel guilty, because there was no reason why she should. By all standards, she had done the right thing by shutting down Richard's idea of an early morning tryst. It was impractical and inappropriate and impossible, and her reputation had been too carefully cultivated after he had left her to be spoiled now.

And yet… she sighed and tossed and turned, unable to calm her thoughts. He had not meant it the way she had deliberately construed it, she was aware of that. His actions since their engagement had been forward, of course, but nothing scandalous. Sarah, her unmarried and naïve maid, had had more interesting things happen to her than Diana had, at least in the department of intimacy and romance. Had she agreed to meet him, he would be right, they would be doing nothing wrong: she knew Richard would not kiss her, or even touch her save for holding her hand, or perhaps embrace her if she allowed him to. All in all, he had been the perfect gentleman since their engagement, and try as she might, even though she was dying for him to be slightly more frank with her, she could not bring herself to do it.

It had nothing to do with a moral compass. Diana knew her feelings perfectly well, and she knew Richard's probably better than he knew them himself. She did not shy away from physical intimacy because it would be inappropriate to indulge in it before her marriage. Whatever society and her family thought of her was different, and exactly what she wanted them to think. She wanted to protect her reputation, of course, but more than that, she wanted to protect herself. She stayed away because she had no idea if he wanted her in that way at all, indeed if he would even want her after they were married since she could not have children. Would they not be able to be husband and wife, in the traditional and conventional sense? Would they stay this way, as companions and nothing more? Diana could not say the idea was altogether displeasing, but it did make her flinch. Would he, could he, do that to her?

All she wanted was reassurance, the ability to know that he was there and that he loved her, and that, on a very superficial level, he found her pleasing. She knew he loved her mind – he had told her that often enough, and it was their quick wits that made them such an excellent match, after all, but as to whether he thought her beautiful enough to find her irresistible… well, she had never asked, and he had never told her.

"How idiotic," she sighed quietly. Saying the words out loud showed her how right they were. They were being idiotic. She was going to marry him – he would know all her secrets, even more than he did already, and he would not be able to leave her after he knew. She would know every thought he had ever had, she intended to make sure of that. What difference did a few months make, when a relationship as important as marriage required time to deepen it? Did it matter that they were not married yet, and she should not be discussing certain things with him? When was she supposed to discuss them, then, on her wedding-night? When she had no idea what to expect?

It would not do. Mind made up, Diana leapt out of bed and grabbed the dress Sarah had left out for her to wear the next day. She dressed hurriedly, and threw her messy braided hair up into a bun, preserving some semblance of decency. She grabbed a shawl and opened her door quietly, hesitating for only a second before creeping out and making her way out of the family wing, towards the sitting-room they had been in a few hours previously.

It was not until she was seated at the pianoforte, her fingers hovering above the keys, that she realized there was a box lying on top of it. A small box, made of black velvet, the kind that held jewellery. It was sitting there, innocently, and Diana knew immediately it was for her. She snatched it up immediately and flipped it open, a soft gasp escaping her mouth when she saw what was inside.

The jewellery her deceased husband had given her had always been beautiful and expensive, but it had lacked something that Diana had always noticed, but never voiced: she had always felt as if he had gone and bought the grandest piece he could find, rather than something she would like. Richard was not like that. Other than the fact that he obviously could not afford to purchase whatever he wished to from the jewellers, he seemed particularly careful with his gifts – even the flowers he gave her were always her favourites, even if they were not the most conventional or expensive ones. The rose gold earrings she was looking at now, the ones that seemed to perfectly match her engagement ring, now these were certainly expensive. She should have protested at such a lavish gift, and yet she knew immediately she would not want to return them. These were hers. There was a card as well, written in his untidy hand.

I did not wish to cause you undue distress. I only wanted to give these to you in person.

RF

!

"The green brocade tonight, mum," Sarah stated more than asked, by now used to the fact that Diana rarely disagreed with her choices. She held out the dress for her mistress to take and absently began to scour the cupboard with her eyes, looking for a matching pair of shoes.

Diana shook her head. "No, dear, the blue silk."

Sarah blinked and tore her eyes away from the cream-coloured satin slippers. "Blue silk?"

"Yes, one of the new ones," Diana picked up a lace sash from the pile of accessories on her bed and rested it against her arm, examining the colour critically. "And get these freshened up, please, they are going to make me look pale."

"You never wear the blue silk," said Sarah in confusion, taking the sash and clutching the green dress helplessly. "Why, I had to force you to get that dress made! It needs to be ironed and checked for mending, and what if it does not fit, and –"

"It's alright, Sarah, I can be late to one dinner party if I need to be," interrupted Diana soothingly. She reached into the cupboard and took out the dress in question, swapping it for the one in Sarah's now-limp hands and ushering her out the door. "See to its ironing and make sure you do not burn it. I will make my own hair today."

"But, mum–!"

"Goodbye!" Diana closed the door firmly, waited until she heard Sarah sigh and hurry away, before leaning back against the door and groaning quietly. The day had been an absolute mess, one after the other. After her discovery of Richard's present the night before, she had almost run up to his room to speak to him, but had thought better of it. The fact that he had known she would come anyway and had left the box there rather than waiting for her told her that, while he had clearly understood that her slight paranoia had less to do with him and more to do with herself, he was unwilling to discuss it. It stung, but Diana knew it was a conversation that needed to happen, preferably in a setting where neither of them could scream at each other.

She had deliberately decided to wear the blue dress, knowing it would match the earrings she planned to wear. Sarah did not know about them, not yet: as understanding as she was, Diana did not want to alert her to the fact that she was even considering meeting Richard outside of the perimeters that society allowed. Sighing, she sat down at her dressing-table and began to work on her hair.

One hour later, when Sarah had finished fretting over her clothes and her jewels were carefully in place – Sarah had raised her eyebrows, but had not commented on the appearance of the earrings – she was ready to go downstairs, only marginally late. If circumstances were normal, she would have expected Richard to be waiting for her at the stairs to escort her inside. However, the hallway was pointedly empty, and Diana bit her lip before adjusting the plain gold string she wore around her neck and plastering a smile onto her face as she entered the drawing-room.

She was surrounded by acquaintances immediately, men and women swarming around her with congratulations and curiosity. She beat them all off with practiced ease, agreed to hold a dance each for two of Richard's cousins from his mother's side, and was just escaping towards the familiar face of Rosalind Bertram when her brother-in-law to-be stepped into her path.

Diana greeted him automatically, slightly confused at the determined look in her eyes but smiling nonetheless. Henry returned her smile and kissed her hand, tucking it into the crook of his arm and spinning her around to introduce her to a lord and his wife that she had never met before. Diana allowed herself to be led around for a few minutes, and then she began to tire. "You are distracting me," she said finally, keeping her voice low as they excused themselves from another couple and finally made their way to another part of the room, where Emily was now speaking to Rose. "What is it?"

"You are too clever for your own good, my dear sister," answered Henry. His expression was amused, but slightly forced.

"I am not your sister yet, Henry."

"As good as," Henry shrugged. "I am merely acting on orders. Richard instructed that we leave you alone tonight for as little time as possible, considering the attitude of Aunt Carmichael the last time there was a gathering."

Diana raised an eyebrow. "And he could not extend his services to me himself?"

"You've had a row with him, we all know he won't come to you," said Emily, appearing suddenly at her elbow and taking her arm. Henry promptly relinquished Diana and bowed to both women before turning to leave. "Come, we should sit."

"I am not a sheep that needs to be led about, Emily, and it is highly insulting that you all would think I need guidance," said Diana sharply. She ignored the look of hurt on Emily's face. "I have been out in society for as long as you, and I know how to deal with women like your aunt who disapprove of my engagement to Richard. If he wants to keep me away from the opinions of old women, he is welcome to do so himself, but I will not be shielded from everyone in this room by everyone except him. Excuse me."

She dropped her arm and walked off, her head held high. On the surface, she looked completely calm as she accepted a drink from one of the footmen, but inside she was reeling with anger and hurt. To say that Richard's absence from the room itself was insulting would be an understatement – it was an accepted fact that they, being a newly-engaged couple, would be seen together at all events his family threw from now until they were married, and their conversation the previous night was no excuse for him to abandon her and instruct his brother and sister-in-law to look after her as if she were a debutante.

"You look lovely!" it was Rose. Diana did not smile, but accepted the air-kisses to both cheeks. Rose's beam did not falter. "Oh, and your jewels are divine! An early Christmas present, I assume?"

"Yes," Diana forced herself to speak and smile, and pretended to be highly interested in all the other woman was saying for the next few hours. When dinner was announced, Rose winked at her and flounced off in the direction of her fiancé, who was watching her with both admiration and adoration. Diana stayed where she was, trying to ignore the rushing couples around her as she finished her drink and tried to make her hands stop shaking. Five minutes later, she had given up stalling and was just about to make her way into the dining-room alone when she felt someone tug on a lock of her hair that was artfully swept across her shoulder.

"Waiting for me?" the voice was amused.

Diana did not smile. "I did not think I was."

"You are too kind to let down an old man," Lord Fitzwilliam patted her shoulder and held out his arm, nodding his head towards the doors of the dining-room. "Don't want to be late, now, do we?"

Diana rolled her eyes. "He sent you this time? Your son is ridiculous."

"Aye, he gets that from his mother's side of the family."

"I do not understand why he is doing this."

"Might have something to do with those earrings you've got on," Lord Fitzwilliam smiled knowingly at Diana's sudden blush. "We all make mistakes, Diana. Richard's biggest mistake was letting you go the first time. The boy doesn't realize how much of an effort he needs to be making with you now."

"What I want isn't effort," Diana sighed. "And I can hardly tell him what I want if he avoids me like the plague."

"He's afraid you'll bite his head off."

"He is simply prolonging the inevitable, then."

Lord Fitzwilliam chuckled. "Oh, you'll be a fine match for him. He'd battle Napoleon himself rather than face you when you're in a temper, he told me that much."

Diana smiled despite herself. "You want me to forgive him."

"I want you both to talk to each other and stop fighting," answered the earl frankly. "I don't pretend to know what it is that has him so afraid and you so annoyed, though I'm inclined to take your side in the matter. But he is going away soon, and I wouldn't want to send away the person I love without hashing out all our problems first. Wouldn't you agree?"

Diana bit her lip and did not answer, but accepted the arm offered to her and allowed herself to be led in to dinner. She took her seat quietly, noting that the one next to her was empty. Deciding not to think who she would have to ward off for the rest of the meal, she turned to Emily, who was on her other side, and squeezed her hand discreetly. Her friend smiled sadly and tucked the ever-present loose curl behind Diana's ear, and all was forgiven.

The empty seat was soon filled by a distant uncle, and the meal began. Diana spoke little and ate even less, her mind too muddled to follow the conversations happening around her. If anyone noticed, they did not comment on it – other than two uncles, Emily, and a cousin she had never met before, there were few people attempting to draw her into speaking, and for that she was grateful. Every time she looked up from her untouched plate, however, Lady Fitzwilliam was watching her with a look of worry on her face, and eventually Diana could not take it.

"Excuse me," she murmured, slipping out of her seat. No one seemed to notice her hasty exit, though she could feel at least two sets of eyes on her as she hurried out of the room. Once out, she hesitated by the door. She could not go upstairs and fake an illness, but she did not want to be surrounded by so many people, at least not yet. The balcony was conspicuously empty, so Diana stepped out into the chilly night air, taking in a deep breath and forcing herself to calm down. There was nothing to be worried about, after all. Richard's pointed absence had more to do with embarrassment than anything else, she was sure of it. His father had not seemed worried, and his mother's looks could simply be interpreted as pitying rather than sorrowful.

If he planned to leave her again, Henry or Emily would have told her. They were the two people who knew Richard almost as well as she did, and she knew they would not stand for his abandoning her, not for a second time. The fact that she was even entertaining the idea of him going away without a word made her feel incredibly guilty, but it was hardly her fault. His actions did not inspire confidence, and if he thought –

"Diana?" Richard's voice made her jump a foot into the air from surprise, and she grasped the railing tightly to avoid tripping. He was at her side in an instant, his hand firmly clasping her elbow and pulling her away, towards the open glass doors. "Why are you outside?" he asked incredulously. "Its freezing."

"I needed air," she bit out, wrenching her arm from his grip and taking a step back so they were not standing so close together. "You would have known that if I had seen you today."

His expression faltered. "I –"

"Oh, yes, what wonderful excuse do you have now?" Diana's tone was bitter. Without waiting for an answer she closed the doors to the balcony with more force than necessary and made her way towards the fire, intent on warming her hands.

Richard followed her. "I should apologize for that, I know."

Diana refused to look at him. "You should do a great many things."

"I did not think you would want to see me, not after what happened last night."

She whirled around to face him, her eyes glinting ferociously. "Did you ask me if I wanted to see you or not?" she demanded. "Did you think to wait for me instead of leaving a box on the piano –"

"– which you clearly appreciated!" protested Richard, gesturing to the jewellery hanging from her ears.

"Because it was a gift from you," shot back Diana, her tone still furious. "I would love anything you gave me!"

"I know that!"

"Then why were you not there when I came down?"

"You did not want me there!"

"You have no idea what I want!"

"Clearly not, because I thought you wanted me!"

"And what gave you the impression I wanted anyone but you?"

Richard took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair and glancing towards the door of the room, which was still shut, but the sounds of chairs scraping against the floor could be heard – the guests would be coming out soon. "That isn't what I meant."

"If you could enlighten me, then."

Richard shook his head, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "You made it clear you are uncomfortable being alone with me here, though you were fine with it in your own home, in London."

"I never said I was uncomfortable," said Diana, but her tone was less harsh now. His expression was cooling her anger. He looked so… lost.

"Yes, I know, Diana. You never said anything."

There was a beat of silence. And then, "Neither did you," she said quietly.

The door opened and cut off their conversation abruptly. Diana turned away pointedly, her gaze fixed on the painting above the fire-place. Moments passed and she felt someone come to stand beside her and saw that Emily was smiling pleasantly, but her eyes were worried. "Henry caught Richard before many people came in," she informed her quietly. "Did you talk?"

"We solved nothing, if that is what you mean," replied Diana, turning away from the fireplace and making a beeline for the seats by the piano, where chances of being overheard were always low.

"Would you like me to speak with him? Or Henry?"

Diana shook her head. "He needs to speak to me, Emily."

"Yes, but perhaps if we pushed him –"

"– then he really is not worth all the trouble I've put myself through," interrupted Diana.

Emily sighed. Despite her reluctance to let the topic drop, Diana managed to steer the conversation to less complicated topics, and they were soon chatting amicably, but quietly. Rose joined them soon after, and by the time the gentlemen re-entered the sitting-room there were already three young ladies lined up to perform on the piano. Rose insisted that Diana play them a song, but her voice had been drowned out easily by the applause that rang out after each performance, and Diana had pointedly ignored her requests.

And then Emily had decided to join in. "We must hear a song from you, Diana," she called out loudly, once Miss Gladstone, the last performer, had finished her piece. "And perhaps Richard could turn pages for you?"

"I don't think –" Diana attempted to protest, but her words were waved off as modesty, and she was steered towards the piano bench and seated in front of him so smoothly by both Emily and Rose that even she, reluctantly, was forced to concede defeat. Avoiding Richard's eye, she began to play. The piece was easy, which meant she did not need to concentrate on it as much as she would have had she picked the music herself. It was clearly a conversation-piece.

Unknowingly, Richard seemed to have read her mind. "It seems Emily is insistent that we talk," he said quietly, a few minutes into her playing.

Diana bit her lip. "It would seem so," she agreed quietly.

Richard sighed. "Diana, I am sorry. I don't know what else to say."

"What are you sorry for?"

"For anything I did that hurt you."

"An interesting apology."

"It's a sincere one."

"Also a very general one."

Richard groaned. "You are being impossible."

"You have avoided me all evening and then you proceeded to shout at me in the drawing-room when we finally crossed paths, by accident no doubt," replied Diana evenly, though there was a tremor in her voice that was more due to anger than sadness. "Am I really the impossible one?"

"What would you like me to say?" he asked, his frustration clear in his tone. "You knew exactly what I meant when I said I wanted to see you alone, and even if you did not know, you came down anyway, you saw the earrings, you liked them. I would never dream of doing or saying anything that could damage your reputation, you know that. I just wanted to be with you, without my entire family breathing down our necks!"

"I do know all of that," replied Diana, her fingers slowing as he turned the page for her roughly. "That is not why I am upset today."

"You are upset because I did not do what I should have done as your fiancé tonight, I know that as well," Diana was impressed that he had not gotten louder by now – he sounded as though he was grinding his teeth to keep from raising his voice. "But you must understand, I thought you would not want to see me. For half the night, I assumed you wanted me to stay out of your way."

"First of all, you should ask me what I do and do not want, since I am not accustomed to advertising my desires. Second of all, even if I wanted you close to me for the first half of this night, I assure you I want to be left alone by you now."

The song had not ended but Diana stood up, deaf to the slightly confused applause ringing out around her as she smiled stiffly and excused herself from the room, moving towards the balcony. There a few people out now; she spotted Lady Carmichael with a young woman she had yet to be introduced to, along with Henry and one of his friends that she had chanced to meet at a ball a few years ago. The two men bowed to her, and she nodded in return, but chose to lean against the railing a few feet away instead. The cool breeze had yet to turn into a harsh wind, and she enjoyed the low temperature as it allowed her red cheeks to return to their normal colour. She hated fighting with Richard, and she knew there was a touch of overreaction to all her answers, but she could not help it. She could not remember ever feeling so frustrated and confused.

"I can't keep following you out here, you know," and he was back. Diana sighed, but did not move away. He would just come after her again if she did. "People will talk."

"If people are not already talking, I will be impressed," she answered dully, picking at the frozen sleet on the railings.

"Diana," his voice was coaxing, his hand hovering over hers pointedly. "Look at me, please." Reluctantly, she turned her eyes up. He smiled, his expression one of relief. "They suit you."

She touched her ears self-consciously. "They are quite beautiful. And expensive," she added.

Richard shrugged. "Even a poor, second son is allowed his extravagancies."

Despite herself, Diana smiled. "And what is yours?"

"You."

"Pretty words, Richard."

"What would you have me do?" he sighed. "If it was in my power, I would do it."

Diana bit her lip. It must be quite nice to have a man, a strong man to depend on when times were confusing. It must be what married women felt like, after all, even the unhappy ones. Diana supposed she would know what it felt like one day, to have Richard by her side unconditionally no matter how silly her worries or how troublesome her thoughts. Right now, however, at this moment, she had no idea what it was like. Diana had always had only one person she could rely on unconditionally, and that had been herself. Richard had been right all those weeks ago when he had said there was no one he trusted to look after her than herself – there was no one she trusted either, not even him. At least, not yet.

"You are lost again," his voice drew her out of her reverie. Diana blinked and removed her almost frozen fingers from the railing, only to have her hands caught in Richard's. She gave him a pointed, disapproving look, but he did not flinch. "What were you thinking of, just now?"

"Something unhappy," she retorted, extracting her fingers from his grip forcefully. He allowed her to do so, but made no move to walk away. His constant hovering was endearing, but it was giving her a headache because she needed to think and it was impossible to concentrate on anything except him when he was near her.

"Why are you unhappy?" he asked gently, after a lengthy pause. Diana merely sighed, unwilling to engage in a debate she knew neither of them would be pleased with. She felt his fingers touch her hand again, and she did not pull away this time. His hands were much warmer than hers anyway. "You have always been able to talk to me, Diana. What has changed now?"

That did it. The blasted word. Change. "Why didn't you kiss me, the day you proposed to me?" she blurted out finally.

Richard paused, his brow furrowing in confusion. "That is why you have been upset?"

His tone immediately made her backtrack. "No," Diana shook her head, then sighed in exasperation. "I cannot explain."

"Try."

"I told you, I don't know," snapped Diana. She turned away from him and made to go inside, but he grabbed her arm, harder than he had ever touched her before, and refused to let her move. Diana turned back to glare at him over her shoulder, but Richard merely raised an eyebrow, his expression perfectly calm. "People are watching," she hissed. Henry and his friend had turned away when their conversation had first begun, a pointed hint at privacy, but Lady Carmichael and her companion, though too far away to discern what was happening in the evening darkness, could pass by at any moment.

"Let them," he said simply. "Talk to me first, and then we will both go back inside."

Diana clamped her mouth shut to avoid screaming in both anger and mortification and returned to her former position against the railing, her posture stiff.

"You did not want to tell me that you were thinking about this, did you?" asked Richard knowingly. His grip on her arm was loose now, but still very much there. Did he actually think she was stupid enough to attempt to run away?

"Maybe," replied Diana, her tone cold. She continued to look out onto the dark grounds. "It would have made no difference either way. I should not even be having this conversation with you."

Richard took one, very pointed step, closer to her, close enough that she could feel his body heat through the fabric of her thin dress – why was she not feeling cold? – and she felt his warm hand, the one that was not anchoring her to the spot, caress her cheek. "If I thought for even one moment that you wanted me to kiss you, my love, I would never let you go," he murmured, his breath tickling her bare neck. "Do you not believe that?"

Diana turned around to face him, ignoring her racing heartbeat, but paused when she caught his eye. Her breath caught in her throat once she realized just how close Richard was, but she pushed aside her feelings and tried to focus on his words. "W-what do you mean?" she managed to stammer, cursing herself for her slip as soon as she saw him smirk in self-satisfaction.

"Which part did you not understand, darling?" he asked, letting go of her arm in favour of grasping her hand. His thumb brushed her knuckles, pointedly stopping at her engagement ring.

Diana would have rolled her eyes if she had the sense of mind to do so at that moment. "Why do you think I do not want you to?"

"Want me to what?" he let go of her hand and squeezed her waist teasingly, his eyes twinkling.

Diana jumped, her cheeks immediately turning red. "Richard," she said warningly.

He chuckled and took a step back. "If you really wanted to, Diana, you would have done it yourself," he said gently. Diana blinked, and he tugged at her hand, kissing the back of it tenderly before looking up at her with that mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "And I plan to wait until you want to as much as I do." He winked.

"You won't be waiting very long then," muttered Diana, more to herself than him, but his quiet laugh told her he had heard. She grimaced. "So you do want to?" she could not help confirming, no longer caring if she was being improper.

"I want you, you silly girl," he entwined their fingers and rested their joint hands against his face, the look of pure adoration never leaving his eyes. "How could I want anything, or anyone, else?"

"It is not impossible," she argued half-heartedly.

Richard shook his head. "There is nothing I want more than you, and I am content to wait until you trust me enough to feel the same."

He spoke so casually that Diana was taken-aback. "I do trust you, Richard."

"No, my love," without breaking eye contact, he offered her his other hand, and for the first time since they had started their conversation he did not have to take it forcefully. He squeezed it, but did not raise it to his lips. His eyes were sad, but his smile was genuine. "I haven't forgotten what I did, and neither have you. Let me earn back your trust. Please."

Diana wanted to refuse. She wanted to scream and cry and stomp her feet, perhaps throw something at him and make him feel as awful as she had felt for years, as awful as she had felt for weeks when she had contemplated how he may never want her in that way, but she could feel her anger melting away at the sincerity that dripped off of his every word. Her moods were giving her whiplash, and it was irksome, to say the least. She wanted to, nay, she knew she should still be angry at him, but it was impossible. As she gazed up at him unblinkingly, reading his face, her heart swelled when she realized he was letting her read him. Richard could hide his emotions with an obnoxious attitude and a quick smile better than any man she had ever known, but he had always let her see through it, and he was doing so now. The small smile, the sad eyes, the gentle grip on her hands… Diana sighed and nodded.

Richard smiled. "And you are no longer angry at me?" despite his expression, there was a hint of genuine concern when he spoke, and his eyes were hesitant.

"No," she sighed. "You make being angry an entirely tiresome thing."

Her words made him laugh. Finally releasing her hands, he gestured towards the balcony-doors. "Now, perhaps we should re-join the company and you can play them a real song?"

"I thought you said I needed more practice," Diana smiled a little as she followed him back into the room, where more than one pair of eyes turned to watch them.

"We have only just made up from a fight, I shall save my critique for another time," he winked and led her to the piano. Once she was seated he bowed slightly and made to back away, but she caught his sleeve before he could.

"Stay with me," was all she said. Richard nodded, his eyes softening immediately, and she turned back to the instrument, focusing all her attention on the song in front of her.

As she began to sing, for the first time in a very long while, Diana did not notice the stares or the whispers, because Richard was standing next to her with his arms folded behind his back smiling at her lovingly, and she realized that now, finally, she could understand why women who had the unconditional love of their husbands were considered to be so lucky.

Here I am, one week (kind of) later as promised! I would have updated sooner but I've sprained my wrist and I have no energy to proof-read this as thoroughly as I normally do, so please do forgive me for any glaring mistakes. I tried to pack loads of things into this as a sorry for being missing for so long before chapter 35, and I really hope its appreciated! So we see at least one of Diana's many issues with Richard has been resolved (kind of) but there are many more to come (kind of) and they're really not as heartbreaking as this one (... kind of).

Anyway, many thanks to the ever-loyal reviewers:

Jansfamily4: I know what you mean, I hope he's a hero again after this chapter and back in your good graces!

Motherof8: That wasn't the inference at all, and I hope this chapter explains it better!

mpf2741: I hope this clears up everything!

LovePP: thank you for the good wishes, I hope I can stay on top of things as well! Do let me know if you enjoyed this chapter!

That's all for now, folks. I hope you enjoy this chapter, I have to say after the proposal scene its one of my absolute favourites. Let me know what you guys think! Until next time, much love xx