“Is it?” He let his gaze linger on her lips a moment longer than courtesy—or even decency—required. The impulse surprised him, yet he did nothing to restrain it. “A taste of you,” he said, his voice lowering into something more intimate than the setting warranted, “might be the very thing to cure all lingering ailments. I wonder… if I kissed you now, would the year of silence simply vanish?”
Diana’s fingers tightened around her linen napkin until her knuckles went white. She opened her mouth, clearly prepared to argue.
Alexander watched her with quiet fascination. The defiance in her posture had sharpened, but there was something else there too, a flicker of uncertainty he did not quite understand but found unexpectedly compelling.
Before she could speak, a sharp, rhythmic knock sounded at the dining room door.
Alexander’s attention shifted at once as the tension between them snapped. He leaned back slightly as the butler entered and bowed.
The butler entered and bowed. “Your Grace. Lady Salford has arrived.”
Alexander frowned. The name rang a bell in his mind, yet he couldn’t quite find where it led.
Diana’s gaze flickered toward the door, her mask of composure snapping back into place.
Before Alexander could respond, the heavy mahogany doors swung wide. A small, formidable gray-haired woman moved into the room with the decisive energy of a queen mother. Her steps were brisk, and her keen, hawk-like eyes swept over the table, the candles, and the two of them with a precision that missed nothing.
“Alexander,” she declared, her voice carrying a crisp authority that immediately commanded the room.
He rose at once, instinctively.
The woman paused, leaning slightly on her silver-topped cane as she studied him critically. “You did not greet me at the door. I find the standards of this house have slipped in my absence.”
“I was occupied,” Alexander replied, his voice dropping into a smooth, courtly register.
Diana stepped forward, her movements a fluid dance of effortless grace. “Grandmother, we are delighted—and quite surprised—that you have come. Please, forgive our lack of preparation.”
Alexander caught the word immediately.
Grandmother.
His gaze flicked briefly between the two women. So, either Diana’s grandmother or his. Until the situation clarified itself, it seemed wiser not to question it aloud.
The older woman’s stern features softened instantly at Diana’s touch. “You are a treasure, child,” Lady Salford said warmly, patting Diana’s hand. “I regret missing your wedding dreadfully. My lungs were simply not up to the London damp at the time.”
Alexander inclined his head slightly. “Grandmother.”
She turned back to him, squinting as she scrutinized his face. After a moment, she nodded once, as if satisfied with what she found.
“My health has improved considerably,” she announced, waving a hand as if dismissing the very concept of illness. “I refuse to remain in the country while London thrives and the Season beckons. I have brought my trunks.”
Diana’s posture shifted, a subtle tightening of her shoulders that only Alexander noticed. “For the Season, Grandmother?”
“For its entirety,” Lady Salford replied brightly, her eyes sparkling with the prospect of gossip and ballrooms. “I shall remain with you both. I have already accepted an invitation to the Wetherby ball on Tuesday. I expect the Duke and Duchess of Rosewood to be the centerpiece of the evening.”
Alexander felt Diana’s sharp, panicked gaze land on him. They were standing on a precipice of a massive, public lie.
“You are most welcome,” Alexander said without a flicker of hesitation. “The house has been far too quiet.”
Lady Salford beamed, clearly joyous.
He gave no sign of the storm brewing beneath his ribs. Whatever memories were absent, something in him still knew the steps—his hands, his posture, the instinctive ease with which he moved through it all. He understood the theater of their class, even if hecould not recall learning it. He understood that a single moment of uncertainty would invite a microscopic scrutiny they could not afford.
When the housekeeper was summoned, and Lady Salford finally swept from the room to inspect her suite, a heavy, ringing silence settled between them.
Diana turned toward him immediately, her voice dropping to a low, fierce whisper. “Lady Salford is your maternal grandmother. Her full name is Josephine Danton, should you need it.”
Alexander absorbed the information without allowing his expression to shift.
