“I have not transformed his personality. Dorian remains exactly as he always was: infuriating and entirely too amused by himself.”
Eleanor’s smile widened. “And yet you say his name now. You say Dorian, not the Duke or my husband.”
Anne opened her mouth, paused, then frowned harder. “That means nothing.”
“On the contrary, it suggests that you have formed an attachment.”
Anne looked away at once. She could not honestly say that one had not formed on her part, but she knew better than to assume the same for her husband. “There is no attachment.”
Eleanor hummed softly, unconvinced. “Very well. Tell me this—how long has he been gone?”
“Since this morning.”
“And have you thought about him?”
“Of course, but it is not as though he is anywhere frightening. He is in town with his good friend Tristan. He told me before he left.”
“Because you both care to know where the other is.”
“I do not.”
“You absolutely do.”
Anne stopped walking. “I care,” she said carefully, “in the sense that he is my husband. Nothing has changed.”
“Then why do you look so disappointed?”
“I do not.”
“You have looked toward the front drive three times since we stepped outside.”
“I was not aware of that. I—you are unbearable sometimes.” Anne shook her head slightly and resumed walking, wishing that her friend would drop the matter.
Then again, after pestering her friend at the beginning of her own marriage, she supposed she was owed it.
Eleanor gave her a knowing look. She had been there before.
“Do you honestly believe what you are saying?” she asked.
“I do not know,” Anne admitted quietly.
Eleanor’s expression softened immediately, some of the teasing finally easing. “That sounds more honest.”
Anne looked ahead rather than at her. “This was never supposed to become complicated,” she said. “I understood what this marriage was meant to be.”
“And now?”
“Now he… he notices things. He remembers things I say, and he asks questions. He lingers when he does not need to. He—” She stopped again.
Eleanor looked alarmingly delighted. “Oh, this is much worse than I thought.”
Anne shot her a look.
“You miss him already, yes?”
“I do not. He has been gone for less than a day.”
“And yet you sound miserable.”
