“Yes.” Her eyes narrowed playfully. “I am beginning to wonder whether you have been misleading me all this time and your recollections have returned entirely.”
His mouth curved slowly.
“I assure you,” he said, leaning slightly closer so that only she could hear him, “if my memory had returned completely, you would have noticed.”
The softness of his voice sent a small flutter through her chest.
There was something in his gaze when he said it that made her heart beat just a little faster. Diana glanced around the ballroom to be certain no one was watching them too closely before lowering her voice.
“You handled him very well,” she admitted quietly. “I was impressed.”
Alexander shrugged faintly, though the movement carried an ease that had not been there when they first returned to London. “I merely asked questions.”
“You asked the correct ones.”
His expression softened slightly as he looked down at her, and for a moment, the noise of the ballroom seemed to fade into something distant.
“You forget,” he said gently, “I have had several days of practice.”
He paused, his gaze drifting briefly across the crowded room before returning to her again, making her stomach drop.
“Though,” he added softly, “I find I much prefer the practice we have had at home.”
Diana felt a sudden rush of blood climb into her cheeks. The past three days had unfolded in a way Diana could never have predicted.
Without Lady Salford’s lively presence filling every room, the house had grown quieter, but not uncomfortable. Instead, it had allowed something entirely new to grow between them.
They had taken morning walks through the gardens. Shared long breakfasts that stretched well beyond the time either of them needed to leave the table. Evenings had passed in quiet conversation beside the drawing room fire, Alexander asking her about the people he once knew while listening with careful attention to every answer she gave.
He had remembered nothing. And yet he had learned everything.
Diana had begun to realize that the man beside her now was neither entirely the man she had married, nor the dazed survivor who had reappeared so suddenly. This version of Alexander listened more carefully. He watched her in a way that made her feel both seen and unsettlingly cherished.
And, perhaps most unbelievable of all, he seemed to enjoy her company.
Alexander tilted his head slightly as he studied her expression, his gaze lingering on her face. There was a thoughtful quality in the way he looked at her, as though he were attempting to read something written beneath the surface of her composure.
“You look pleased with me,” he said.
The observation carried the faintest trace of amusement.
Diana met his gaze, unable to suppress the small smile that tugged at the corner of her mouth. “I am.”
One of his brows lifted slightly. “And that surprises you?”
The question was gentle rather than mocking, yet it caught her off guard all the same. For a moment, she hesitated, her fingers brushing lightly against the folds of her gown as she considered how honestly she ought to answer.
“Perhaps,” she admitted after a moment. “A little.”
His gaze softened at that, and it made the air between them feel suddenly thinner, more intimate despite the crowded ballroom around them.
“I know enough now,” he said quietly.
Diana frowned slightly. “Enough?”
He inclined his head. “Enough to understand what matters.”
Her pulse quickened. Diana searched his expression, trying to determine whether he meant the words lightly or whether there was something deeper behind them.
