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diamonds were diamonds, and not the less expensive marcasite, which was commonly used in jewelry of the early twentieth century. He also recognized the platinum ring she wore as Edwardian. Except at antique shows, Serena had never met anyone who knew one era of jewelry from another just by looking at the various precious metals, stones, and intricate designs.
    The garnets in her earrings were set in silver with tiny rose-cut diamonds and had a one-and-a-half-inch drop.Serena was particularly pleased with the set; she’d gotten them for a steal at a garage sale, and later learned they were worth nearly a thousand dollars. She had enthusiastically relayed that fact to Cecil when he’d asked her where she found them, and it warmed her heart that his eyes didn’t roll into the back of his head—much the way others’ eyes did when she got to talking about antiques—when she told him how much she enjoyed going to flea markets and garage sales to search for great finds. From there, she and Cecil had begun discussing all things old. Like her, Cecil loved antiques, but had an avid interest in antique jewelry.
    His interest in what she was most passionate about had sparked her attraction to him. But she’d also found him very charming, humorous, and easy to talk to. She’d definitely liked him, and when he asked her out for dinner a couple weeks later, she’d accepted. One dinner had led to another, then another. The more time they spent together, the more Serena realized how much they had in common, and the more she liked him.
    He had a way of making her feel like she was the only woman in the room when they were out, which was something she wasn’t used to. Most of the men she dated had wandering eyes when beautiful women crossed their paths, and it was nice that Cecil wasn’t like them—especially when she knew she wasn’t the most attractive woman in the world. So, when Cecil had lowered his lips and kissed her after an evening of dinner and dancing on South Beach, Serena had been flattered. No one as attractive as Cecil had ever kissed her before. And the kiss had been…nice. Not too long, not too short. Enough to let her know he was definitely interested but wasn’t going to be pushyabout it. And just like that, their relationship had gone to another level.
    All her life, Serena had been waiting to meet Mr. Right, and Cecil Montford had finally seemed like he could be The One. He’d never pressured her for sex like some of the other men she’d dated, which was a definite plus. He’d been patient, expressing a desire to get to know her first instead of getting down and dirty. Serena appreciated that about him, because she’d been saving her virginity for the man she would marry.
    Serena still remembered fondly first learning about her parents’ love affair one summer night when she and her mother had sat on their back porch. Her mother, Edith, had told her how she believed she and her father had been destined to meet. Both in their late teens, her parents had met at a train station in Buffalo. Her father, Maurice Junior, or M. J., as her mother called him, had been waiting for his uncle to arrive from Baltimore. Edith had arrived home from a trip to visit relatives in Chicago. Edith’s ride had been late; a traffic accident had kept her father from getting to the train station on time. The train carrying M. J.’s uncle had been late. As a result, both Edith and M. J. had ended up at the train station together, waiting. When Edith had turned in M. J.’s direction, their gazes had met, and something wonderful had sparked in M. J.’s eyes—according to Serena’s mother. Her father had been immediately smitten—at least, that’s the way Edith told the story; but Serena suspected her mother had been just as smitten by her father.
    Weeks later, they were madly in love, and months after that, they married. Her parents had been virgins when they married, something they’d been proud of, and theirlove remained