Alfred scoffed at that, but followed it immediately with a half-smile. "As if I'm not already doing that every day," he said, reaching up to brush his thumbs against the sides of her face just outside her eyes. And maybe that was a slight exaggeration, to say every day, but he'd had plenty of cause to be thinking about it lately. There were so many little reminders of it, that Zelda had no idea about. Packing up his London flat, taking turns around the Sanditon with Herbert Fudge, making arrangements with the harbormaster on the Thames for longer-term storage for the Voyager through the summer months, getting the house on the terrace arranged in a way that felt less like a vacation rental and more like a home. Soon.