Diana’s hair was loose around her shoulders, the soft strands catching the morning light in a way that made the sight unexpectedly distracting. The faint flush lingering along her cheeks suggested she was remembering the previous night just as clearly as he was.
Alexander felt a quiet warmth spread through his chest at the thought. He had spent much of the night memorizing the sound of her voice when she forgot to guard it. Memorizing the way she looked at him when she stopped trying to pretend she was unaffected.
The memory alone was enough to make the corners of his mouth lift faintly.
It came back to him with startling clarity: the way Diana’s careful composure had slowly unraveled over the course of the evening until she had been looking at him with that unguarded softness he suspected very few people had ever been allowed to see.
And most vividly of all, he remembered the moment she had stopped trying to hide the way she looked at him. The thought stirred something warm and quietly powerful beneath his ribs, a feeling that felt suspiciously like triumph and something far more intense besides.
“You are smiling,” Diana said suspiciously.
Her voice pulled him back to the present. “Am I?”
“Yes.” Her eyes narrowed slightly as she studied him, clearly unconvinced by his feigned innocence.
Alexander shifted slightly on the pillow, stretching one arm beneath his head with ease as he regarded her. “That is troubling.”
Diana narrowed her eyes. “Why?”
Alexander allowed his gaze to linger on her face for a moment longer than necessary. There was something deeply satisfying inthe way the faint flush still lingered along her cheeks, a quiet reminder of the previous night that made the warmth beneath his ribs deepen.
“Because,” he said calmly, “it suggests I am in a remarkably good mood.”
Diana watched him for another moment, clearly considering this answer. Her expression remained skeptical at first, as though she suspected there was something more behind his amusement than he was admitting.
“Remarkably good,” she repeated slowly. “That is a very confident declaration for a man who has not yet faced his grandmother at breakfast.”
Alexander lifted one brow. For a moment, he studied her expression, the mixture of exasperation and lingering warmth in her face making his chest tighten in a way that felt unexpectedly pleasant.
He shifted reluctantly and sat up, the cool air of the room brushing his shoulders as he pushed the covers aside.
Diana followed a moment later, gathering the loose fabric of her nightgown as she rose from the bed. The soft movement drew his attention despite himself, and for a moment, he simply watched her cross the room toward the dressing screen.
The morning light caught along the graceful line of her shoulders, turning the loose strands of her hair to dark silk as she moved.
Alexander forced himself to look away.
“If you continue staring like that,” Diana said from behind the screen, “I shall begin to suspect you have no intention of leaving this room today.”
“That is not inaccurate,” he replied mildly.
There was a brief pause. Then Diana laughed again.
“You realize,” she said, “that if we delay much longer, grandmother will assume the worst.”
Alexander considered that. “I suspect she already has.”
“Yes,” Diana admitted. “That is precisely why we should hurry.”
Diana stepped out from behind the screen a few minutes later, fully dressed, her hair pinned neatly once again, though a few rebellious strands still framed her face.
They stepped into the corridor together, the quiet hallways of Rosewood House slowly stirring with the first movements of the morning staff.
By the time they reached the breakfast room, the doors were already open. Lady Salford sat at the head of the table with a cup of tea in one hand and a look of deep satisfaction on her face.
She did not even attempt to hide the way her eyes moved slowly between them as they entered.
“Well,” she said pleasantly.
