As soon as he addressed her, she couldn't help but beam up at him. The memory of their encounter on the train was enough to boost her spirits ten-fold. For the most part, she thought her rejection of him had led him to see her only as an obligation. But that was until the train to Irvingly. Poor Mrs. Wellington's predicament had resulted in the blissful moments that she and Will could share together, which were enough to lead Diana to think that perhaps...perhaps Will thought of her as more than just an obligation.

He'd left her alone to her thoughts for the briefest of moments before she'd went and found a member of the train staff to ask to escort her home. The look he'd given her was one she hadn't seen in years. It re-opened plenty of older memories she was content to relive on the way home, but most of all it awoke a hope in her she hadn't allowed herself to feel in ages. Maybe, just maybe they still had a chance, Diana thought. Maybe she hadn't missed her shot after all.

Diana involuntarily flexed her hand – the one he'd placed the tenderest of kisses upon – and resisted the urge to reach out to him standing in front of her. "I've been quite well," She said, feeling as if she could stay in this spot next to him for ages. "And yourself?" It was funny how their conversation mirrored the one they had at the ball so long ago, but Diana found herself rather eager to find out how he truly was. Back then, she'd thought the doors had firmly closed between them. But now there was a light she could see seeping through the cracks of the doors and she was going to do her damndest to make sure it grew brighter.