'I am.' I forced a smile. 'Really, I am. I'm just surprised, that's all.'

She relaxed. 'We were rather cloak-and-dagger about the whole thing, weren't we? I'm not sure why. It was part of the fun of it, I think, sneaking off with no one knowing. We both have to be so respectable most of the time.'

'Well, you fooled me,' I said honestly. 'I can't believe my mother didn't say something, either. She's terrible at keeping secrets.'

'She doesn't know,' Vivien told me, hesitating. 'I haven't met your parents, yet.'

Tom must be head over heels, I thought in amazement, to propose marriage without first vetting the girl through the family. It seemed there were some corners of my brother that I barely knew, for all our intimacy. Vivien bit her lip, watching my face.

'Do you think they'll like me?' she asked.

'My parents?' I smiled at the thought. 'They'll be over the moon. They've been pestering Tom to marry since he came down from Oxford, and you're very much their type. You'll like them, too, I think,' I added. 'They're rather odd, but lovable.'

'Like Tom.'

I grinned. 'Not quite as odd as that.'

'And you're not upset? About us getting married, I mean.'

'Of course not. Why should I be upset?' Why, indeed, I asked myself, my gaze straying out the window to the man bent working in the garden by the crumbled dovecote wall. Why should I think that destiny was perfect? After all, Rachel and Evan had gone off together, loved each other, presumably grown old together. Maybe fate had reserved a different twist for them, this time around.

Richard and I, once separated, had been brought together. Perhaps Rachel and Evan, in this second life, must live apart....

The kettle screamed upon the stove, and I looked away from the window with a start, reaching to switch off the burner and fill the coffee cups. Vivien was watching me, silently, wearing again that look of puzzled concern.

'Oh,' she said suddenly. I nearly forgot. Geoff rang you.'

I lifted my head. 'Here?'

'While I was getting the coffee.' She nodded. 'About an hour ago. It was a rotten connection, I could barely hear him, but I promised I'd give you the message.'

'He's still in France?"

'I think so. Somewhere in the Pyrenees, I think he said. Anyhow, he said to tell you he'd ring again this evening.'

I stirred the coffee, thoughtfully. 'Did you tell him you were getting married?'

'No.' She laughed. 'It must have slipped my mind. But then, he was on a bit of a high, himself, so I let him do most of the talking. There's no outtalking Geoff, once he gets going.'

I smiled. 'So I've learned. Did he say when he was likely to ring back?'

'No. Only that I wasn't to drag you off to the pub this evening, until after he'd called.' She checked her watch, and grimaced. 'Lord, I must be going. Ned will have my hide. Look, I'm sorry to have sprung this on you out of nowhere. ...'

'I'm thrilled,' I told her firmly. 'Honestly.'

'And you will stand up for me? I promise I won't make you wear some ghastly dress, or anything.'

'I'll be there with bells on,' I said, and sealed the promise with a hug. 'I hope my brother appreciates his good fortune.'

Vivien smiled, and shook her head. 'I'm the one who's lucky,' she told me. 'And I'll be getting a sister, on top of it all. I always wanted a sister.'

A shadow flitted by the door, and I fancied for a moment that it was Rachel who stood before me, and not Vivien. Rachel, with her soft, quick smile and laughing eyes, and the fair hair tumbled anyhow about her shoulders. But as I blinked, she vanished.

'You will stop by the Lion, later?' Vivien paused on the doorstep, turning back. 'After Geoff rings? I'll treat you to a bottle of my best Bordeaux, in honour of the occasion. And I'm sure the lads will want to celebrate.'

I promised her I'd be there, and she went off happily, calling a farewell to Iain as she headed off across the field toward the village. Perhaps in sympathy for the stoic Scotsman, I fixed a plate of sandwiches and pickles, and gathering up the coffee mugs in my free hand I went out again to the dovecote, crossing the grass slowly so as not to spill anything.

He stopped work when he saw me coming, straightening his bent back and stretching. He pulled the gloves from his hands and set them neatly on the rough wall beside him, then reached to take his plate and mug from my careful grasp.

'You're an angel,' he thanked me, tucking in. 'She told you about the wedding, then?'

I nodded. 'Yes.'

'She's got good taste. I like your brother.'

I glanced at him, looking for some sign of emotion behind that impassive facade. 'I suppose you'll miss her, though, when she's gone.'

He shrugged. 'Hampshire's not so very far away, and I fancy we'll see plenty of them.' He set his plate upon the wall. 'She'd hoped you'd be excited.'

'I am,' I said, but my voice was flat.

He pulled a crumpled packet of cigarettes from his shirt pocket, shook one loose, and lit it. Over the brief flare of the match, the gray eyes flicked toward me, unconvinced. 'Then d'you mind telling me why you look as though you've just lost your best friend?'

'I don't know.' I sighed, and leaned my back against the wall, gazing out at the line of distant hills. The sun was fading in the west, setting off a glowing burst of dying colors that spread across the rolling grass, bowed low beneath the breeze. I looked down, at the ruined garden. 'I really don't know,' I said again. 'It's just been a wretched couple of days, what with the rain, and everything dying, and ...' My voice trailed off. It was impossible to explain. 'This was such a beautiful garden,' I said.