Her smile faded. “For a long while I thought it was him. But something was always missing. It never felt completely right. Not until—”

“Until when?”

She gave him a wry look. “Until I met you.”

He returned her gaze, an expression in his eyes hard to read.

“That day at Talbot’s Pond, I felt something for you. You felt it, too. A thread of connection. That’s how you described it the day we walked to the Roman ruin.”

“I did. It was devilish inconvenient.” He paused for a long moment before asking, “What happened between you and George?”

She went still. It wasn’t a secret. Nevertheless, it was an incident she didn’t much fancy revisiting. “Does it matter?”

“Chalk it up to possessiveness. That, or husbandly curiosity. I already heard his side of the story—”

Her gaze jerked to his. “When?”

“In Margate. He didn’t present himself in the best light.”

A spark of anger flickered in her breast. “Nor should he.”

“What happened?” Alex asked again. “Did he break your heart?”

“He never had my heart. What I felt for him was closer to schoolgirl infatuation than it was to love. After Papa died, I spent the year in mourning. George kept his distance. Out of respect, I thought at the time. The following December, when my mourning period was over, I went to Edgington Park for their annual Christmas ball. George spirited me out to the terrace. I thought he was going to ask me to marry him.”

“Instead, he asked you to be his mistress.”

“I wasn’t insulted. Not at first. I was too stunned. I remember staring at him, unable to formulate a single word. That was when he kissed me. If you can call it a kiss. He was very…forceful.”

Alex’s jaw hardened. “I should thrash him within an inch of his life.”

“Oh no. A slap was more than sufficient. Indeed, in the following days there were moments when I feared I’d broken my hand. I can only imagine what his cheek must have looked like.”

“You didn’t see him again?”

“No. He left not long after. Gone to London, his father said. I confess I was relieved. The idea of facing him…” She grimaced. “I still had my pride, after all.”

“You must have been shocked at his return last month.”

“Not shocked, no. Surprised, perhaps. It was unexpected.”

“I’m amazed you responded to Henrietta’s summons.”

“Why? It had been two years. Long enough for any hurt or embarrassment to have faded.” She pressed Alex’s hand. “In truth, I’ve actually come to be grateful for that kiss. It was decidedly lackluster. I knew in an instant that George wasn’t the man for me—childish infatuation or no.”

“He doesn’t deserve you,” Alex said. And then he laughed. “But who am I to talk?”