To most people the fourteen steps leading up to the Mitchell Library posed no problem, but for Hannah Bowden they were the day’s personal challenge. By the time she reached the top, her damaged leg had cramped in a painful spasm and beads of sweat trickled down her face. At least she didn’t have to use any more energy to push apart the library’s bronze doors, for they stood open, inviting her to step out of the humidity of a Sydney summer.

Once in the coolness of the sandstone vestibule Hannah sank gratefully onto the stone bench and wiped her face with a tissue. This was her first unaccompanied outing since she’d come off second best with a car’s bull-bar. Her sister, Rebecca, would say “I told you so.” but with so much sympathy and understanding in her eyes that Hannah would refrain from throwing something at her. This morning, Hannah had decided she couldn’t stay another day alone at home having watched enough DVDs of The West Wing and Glee to last a lifetime. In the eight weeks since the accident her body had healed quicker than her mind. She knew she’d suffer with the throbbing consequences tonight but anything was better than sitting at home moping and aching for a man who didn’t want her.

Hannah lightly touched the diamond in the ring on her left hand. The ring was as lost as she was. She’d found it in her garden and needed to know how such an exquisite piece of craftsmanship came to be there. Had it been accidently misplaced, causing distress and a frantic search? Or cruelly disowned and discarded? Hannah was determined to find out. She’d begin by researching the history of her house and tracing all the previous owners. If she was unsuccessful, at least she had a project to occupy her mind until she could return to work as a physiotherapist.

Some twisted logic told her that by returning the unusual ring to its rightful owner she would somehow get her life back on track. Or at least pointing in a forward direction. Hannah rose to her feet, gingerly testing her weight on her leg before entering the library and limping over to the inquiry desk. Before she could be served the phone rang and the librarian turned to answer it with an apologetic smile and a nod to her male colleague who stepped forward.

Hannah looked up to meet the most intelligent, laughing eyes she’d ever seen.

‘How may I help you?’ His smile wiped away all coherent thought leaving her floundering like a beached fish. Her stomach flipped and she knew she was about to make a giant fool of herself.

‘I don’t know what to do?’ she blurted, her heart was beating too fast for her to be anything other than flustered and tongue tied. She hoped the man would think she was embarrassed by her ignorance rather than unsettled by him. Hannah couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt the thrilling excitement of sexual attraction. The sudden dip of the stomach, the skip of the heartbeat. She knew she’d have a rosy, tell-tale blush staining her cheeks.

‘I’ve never been to a research library before. It’s a bit different to my local community library. I’m researching a house in Hunter’s Hill. Could you point me in the right direction?’

‘Do you have any books in mind?’

‘No, not a clue. To be honest I don’t know where to start.’

‘Well let’s have a look in the data base. Hunter’s Hill, right?’

‘Yes, Dale Street, number 14.’

Did she imagine it or did his hands pause momentarily over the key board? As he typed in the data Hannah noticed how his fingers played the keyboard as gracefully as a concert pianist.

‘There’s quite a number that might be useful. I’ll send down for them but it’ll take about half an hour to bring them up from the stacks. There’s a coffee shop or a cold water station in the tunnel connecting us to the State Library if you need a drink.’

‘Thank you. I’ll just go over there and wait.’

‘I’ll bring them to you.’

Hannah murmured her thanks and took a seat at one of the large wooden tables. She took a moment unpacking her pens and notepads which seemed as archaic as slates and chalks compared to the laptops other patrons were using. Through the high stained glass windows rays of light streamed down into the library and dust motes danced in the air with lazy grace. She closed her eyes, relishing the silence of the cavernous room, using its peace to calm her racing heart.

While she doodled on her writing pad Hannah’s gaze keep drifting back to the librarian. His name was Marcus that much she knew from his name badge. Average height, average build, nothing to make him stand out from the crowd other than a vivid pair of blue eyes and a warm and gentle smile, but he’d totally captivated her. She’d imagined his smile had been especially for her but she noticed he used it on everyone he dealt with, the giggling teenage girls whose skirts were oversized waistbands and the frail gentleman who kept changing his mind. He treated them all in the same patient and attentive manner which made her like him even more.

‘That’s an interesting ring.’ He nodded to her left hand placing a stack of books on the table. ‘It’s a Tourbillon setting, isn’t it?’

‘Why yes, that’s what the jeweller told me. Do you know much about jewellery?’

‘Oh, I’m a mine of useless information. I must have read about it somewhere.’ He looked around the thousands of books in their carved, wooden shelves. ‘Can’t imagine where? I’m very popular at Trivia nights.’ The humour lit up his blue eyes and caused creases at the corners. Hannah thought that he was a man who laughed a lot and felt her mouth curve in an answering smile.

‘You or your fiancé have very good taste.’

‘Oh I’m not engaged. This is the only finger it fits.’

‘May I ask where you bought it?’

‘I found it, in my garden. That’s why I’m researching the history of my house. I want to track down the previous owners.’

‘To return their lost property?’

‘Yes.’ She brushed a stray wisp of hair off her face, knowing the high humidity would have turned her wavy, golden hair into a frizzy mess. ‘My sister thinks I’m mad or the ring’s bewitched.’

‘Sisters can be like that.’ His laugh was one of warm understanding. Hannah wished she could freeze this moment in time where she was standing in a beautiful building, in perfect harmony with this man.

‘How do you think it came to be in the garden?’

‘Who knows? Some Victorian woman found out her man was a louse and threw it at him. Missed him and scored a direct hit through an open window.’ Hannah tied to make her words light and funny to match his but knew the hurt and bitterness seeped through. ‘I’m sorry, I’m a bit fragile at the moment.’

‘Don’t worry, I recognise you’re going through the ‘all men are bastards’ stage. I have a sister too,’ he explained to her questioning look.

‘Mine’s more along the lines of ‘some men want a mother, not a life’s partner’ stage.’

‘I think-’ He looked over to the counter where a queue of people was waiting for service. ‘Excuse me.’

Hannah chewed on her fingertip as she watched him walk away. The attraction she felt seemed to be reciprocated. Should she take a chance and ask him out? After all, what was the worst that could happen? He’d decline and she’d feel foolish.

No. The worst that could happen was he’d say yes. They’d date and she would fall in love with him and then he’d leave her to pick up the pieces of a broken heart and shattered dreams. That was one jigsaw puzzle she didn’t want to do a second time. The parts had never fitted together properly again.

As she left the library Hannah glanced back, for one last look. He wasn’t looking her way so he’d obviously not been aware on her as she was of him. She’d imagined that any attraction between them was mutual. Thank heavens she hadn’t suggested a coffee.

Hannah revisited the library three more times during her convalescence, hoping to see Marcus again and relive that breath-taking, golden, spinning moment when she’d first set eyes on him but he was never there. The scarlet bougainvillea outside her bedroom faded as summer merged into autumn and Hannah’s quest drew to an end with only one more family to visit.

Standing at the gate leading to the front door Hannah wiped her hot, moist palms down the front of her skirt and took a deep breath. If she followed her instincts she’d leave now, without using the brass door knocker. But she had agreed to come tonight and the young woman had sounded friendly in a cautious sort of way. She hadn’t felt this anxious on visiting prior owners and could only suppose her hesitancy was due to knowing she would have to part with the ring. Her quest for its real owner had given her a reason to go out, engage with people and start living again. And now there was a good chance she’d be leaving this house without it. Beneath her hand the knocker felt cold and heavy but on her finger the diamond glowed as if on fire.

Three sharp raps on the door brought the sounds of firm footsteps and a male silhouette behind the frosted glass. Her heart sped up to an uncomfortable rate and her mouth dried as if anticipating danger. What was she doing knocking on the door of a complete stranger? It was so unlike her but she felt compelled to at least try to return the ring to its rightful owners. Maybe Rebecca was right. Maybe she had been cursed or bewitched.

The door opened to reveal the man she’d fantasised about ever since their meeting in the Library. Hannah’s mind froze. She felt the smile on her face congeal into one of vacant stupidity. She’d come to the wrong house. Would he think she was stalking him? She struggled to apologise but he’d opened the door wide as if expecting her and was inviting her in with a welcoming gesture and the smile that had so entranced her.

‘I’m looking for Emily, Emily Gould ,’ she said, her voice sounding weak and uncertain, as if from a long way off. ‘She does live here, doesn’t she?’

‘Yes, she’s my sister. My twin sister.’

‘Oh, that’s nice. Are you identical?’ Hannah blurted and felt the rush of embarrassment flooding her cheeks and wished the floor would open and swallow her. In trying to sound calm and in control she’d asked the stupidest of questions. ‘I’m sorry, that was a dumb, really dumb thing to say. It’s just I’m…I’m stunned that you’re here.’

‘Marcus Gould,’ he offered his hand and Hannah slipped hers into it, and relished the warm rush of pleasure she felt as his hand closed over hers. ‘Come in.’

He led her into the lounge room and laughed at her bemused expression.

‘Wow! I feel like I’ve travelled back to the 1950s.’

‘It gets most people like that. Emily is very dedicated to authenticity. She’d have the whole place a retro museum except I put my foot down. We decorated half the house each. My half’s more eclectic. Nostalgia is all very well but personally I prefer the present. Especially the immediate here and now.’

His dark blue eyes locked onto hers and the air between them seemed to crackle with tension.

‘Would you like a drink? Tea, coffee, wine?’

‘A glass of water would be nice.’ She needed something to do, something to concentrate on or she’d spend the evening staring at him with her mouth hanging open.

‘Make yourself at home. I won’t be a moment.’

Hannah looked around the room, taking in the overstuffed three piece suite, the dark oak sideboard and standard lamp with fringed shade. Before she could sit Marcus was by her side again. ‘Your water.’

‘Thank you.’ Hannah took a welcome sip. He’d added ice and a slice of lemon. The clinking of the ice against the glass resounded in the silence between them.

‘You’re wondering what’s going on but are too good mannered to ask.’

‘Something like that. Is Emily here?’

‘No, I persuaded her she had pressing business elsewhere. She only agreed to leave when I threatened to lock her in the garden shed.’

‘Why?’

He smiled and walked to a large table where photographs were spread across the shiny surface.

‘Come over here. There are some things I think you’d be interested in.’ Intrigued she moved to his side took the photograph he offered.

‘Why, that’s my house.’

‘The woman standing in the foreground is my great, great grandmother, Ethel. She lived there most of her life.’ He moved closer to pick up another photograph and a delicious tingle travelled through her as his arm against brushed hers. ‘And this was taken at the time of her engagement to my great, great, grandfather.’

Hannah looked at the sepia face of the unsmiling woman. Even across the years she could sense the woman’s unhappiness.

‘She doesn’t look overjoyed with the prospect.’

‘She wasn’t. What else do you notice?’ Her gaze went instinctively to the woman’s left hand.

‘The ring she’s wearing. It’s this one. It belongs to your family.’

‘Yes I recognised it immediately.’

‘Why didn’t you say something at the time?’

‘You seemed determined to track us down yourself and I didn’t want to spoil your fun. You’ve taken your time though. I was getting impatient and was going to give you a few more weeks and then come looking for you. After all I know where you live.’

Hannah slipped the ring off her finger and handed it to Marcus.

‘Don’t you want to know its history?’ he asked, looking into the depths of the diamond.

She nodded her head, the words stuck in her throat. She felt the loss as keenly as if she’d sustained another injury.

‘Ethel bequeathed the ring to her only son for the woman he would marry. Unfortunately my grandfather fell in love with a woman who wouldn’t marry him even though she was pregnant with my mother. She had a private income and didn’t feel the need to be inconvenienced by a husband. Grandpa declared that if she wouldn’t wear the ring, then no woman would. Family legend says he walked into the garden, turned his back and threw it over his shoulder. He never did marry.’

‘That’s sad.’

‘Stupid if you ask me. We’ve all suffered rejection and had our hearts broken. That’s no reason to turn our backs on love and happiness.’

‘I think sometimes love turns its back on us.’

And there it was again, that tense little silence, as if the world was holding its breath, waiting for one of them to say something profound, romantic or life changing.

‘Turn around.’

Hannah caught a hint of his cologne and knew he was standing close to her. Shyly, she turned, not daring to hope she lifted her face to find Marcus looking down at her with an expression in his eyes that made her toes curl.

‘I’ll have the ring altered so you can wear it your right hand until you’re ready to put it back on your left.’

‘But we’ve only just met.’

‘My heart knew you were the one the moment you walked into the library.’

‘That isn’t your heart, it’s your hormones and it’s called lust.’

‘Maybe. But once I spoke to you I was sure I want to be an important part of your life.’

‘What on earth did I say for you to decide that?’

‘It’s what you were doing. Trying to return lost property despite being in pain. It showed me the type of person that you are. Courageous, determined, kind and honest.’ He tipped her face up, forcing their eyes to meet. ‘I won’t allow the past to colour my future. I’m not the man who broke your heart. Any more than you’re not like the woman who broke mine. We’re older now and, if not wiser then stronger.’

‘Emily might want it.’

‘We’ve discussed it already. It’s mine to do with as I wish.’

He slipped the ring back on her finger and took her hand to his lips.

‘It’s finally come home.’

Hannah traced his features with her finger, drinking every aspect of this man, her man. His arms encircled her and she rested her head on his shoulder.

‘So have I Marcus, so have I.’