They danced between the hedges, the night air thick with the scent of roses and the melody of the waltz. She was light on her feet, easily following his steps, humming softly to the tune.
As they danced, a memory washed over her, vivid and undeniable. A memory of another ballroom, and his arms holding her close. A memory of a heart overflowing with an almost painful joy.
She opened her eyes and met his gaze, a soft smile gracing her lips. In a sudden, sweet rush, she took his face in her hands and kissed him.
The dance stopped abruptly. He froze. Then, when she thought he wouldn’t respond, he pulled her in, pressing her tightly against him, the warmth of his bodyenveloping her. A wave of comfort washed over her. It was all so familiar; him, the way he felt against her, the way he smelled.
Once more, a golden warmth blossomed in her chest, a flicker of something she thought had been extinguished. Could it be? Was the love she thought lost still glimmering deep inside her?
The realisation hit her, leaving her breathless.
He released her gently and stared back at her with an unfathomable expression in his eyes. A silent question hung heavy in the air.
He released her abruptly, stepping back as if the connection between them had never existed. “The Prussian and French delegations are waiting for me.” The cool night air blew between them. “I have several meetings to attend before I can retire. I believe you mentioned you have one more performance.”
His tone was stiff and formal. Lena shivered. Self-consciously, she smoothed her hands over her dress. “Yes.” She glanced around, feeling disoriented. “The performance.” She’d completely forgotten about that.
“We shall meet at home, then.” He gave her a curt nod, turned and walked away, leaving Lena to stare after him.
She replayedthe kiss in her memory over and over again, wondering whether she had made a terrible mistake. She had wanted to see whether her memory had been true, so without thinking, she’d grabbed his face and kissed him. She’d been right about the kiss triggeringmemories. The locket, the rose garden, the ballroom, the dance, Elizabeth, their first kiss—oh! That kiss. It had all come rushing back to her, overwhelming her, while at the same time wrapping her in a feeling of homecoming after a long journey.
How could she have been so impulsive? The poor man had clearly been caught off guard and had had no idea what to do, so he’d kissed her back, out of politeness…Her entire body was burning with shame, and she felt like crawling into a mouse hole. No wonder he was all cold and polite afterwards. What must he think of her?
Lena paced in her room, waiting for the Duke’s return two hours later. When she heard his footsteps in the corridor, she slipped out of the door and caught him just before he entered his bedroom.
“Lena.” He nodded at her. He’d discarded his coat and tugged at this neckcloth.
“I know it’s late, but I was wondering if we could have a moment to talk.” She gestured helplessly.
He followed her into the parlour. The fire was still burning, and she stepped in front of it, rubbing her hands, although she was not at all cold.
“What do you want to talk about?” He rubbed his jaw. He looked pale and there was a strain about his eyes.
“About…earlier.”About the kiss.She gave a quick shake of her head and rushed on. “I wanted to let you know that some memories have returned. It happened twice. Once, just before I met Lindenstein. And then when we waltzed.”When we kissed.
He clasped his hands behind his back. His face showed no expression at all. “What did you remember?”
She rubbed her hand along the mantelpiece. “Earlier, I remembered the locket and a conversation I had with a friend in the jewellery shop where I had the locket made. I remembered Elizabeth.”
He nodded. “Lady Wilton. She is married now and has three children.”
Lena placed her hands on her cheeks. “Elizabeth—married! Of course she would be,” she murmured more to herself. “She always wanted children. How glad I am for her!”
A smile trembled on her lips. “What I wanted to say, actually, was that I remembered a conversation we had and, and—” She stumbled over the words. She stepped forwards and resolutely took his hands. “I remembered that I was very fond of you.” The last few words rushed out of her.
It was an understatement, but she couldn’t bring the word ‘love’ over her lips. Did he understand? The echo of her confession hung heavily in the air.
When he remained silent, she looked up and saw his jaw was set in a grim line. “Are you certain that your memory was not deceiving you?” His words hung harshly between them.
Lena dropped her hands. “Deceiving? How so? It is predominantly the feelings that I seem to remember. I am certain my feelings do not lie.”
He squared his shoulders, and he seemed to retreat within himself. It was as if he’d pulled up an invisible wall around him that she could not breach.
Turning slightly away, he said, “A word of advice. Do not put too much faith in the truth of your feelings. You may find them to be fickle, or worse, untrue.”
She blinked. Before she could ask what he meant, he turned to the door. “If you will excuse me. It is late and I am rather tired.” With that he left.
Lena remained behind.
