"Oh, yeah?" It was funny really, that the values of the 18th Century childhood were more familiar to someone from another planet than the more modern children. "He is! I'm so proud of him," Alexander exclaimed, clearly just about bursting with pride, and understandably so. It was so strange; he'd gone from knowing Eliza was a few months pregnant, to knowing his son was now two, to really knowing him at nine. It was whirlwind, but he was so thrilled to be a part of his life.
And he almost asked her, what he had wanted to ask her a couple of weeks ago, but he held himself back. Maybe a conversation for a more sober setting.
She leaned back, and it was just the most natural thing in the world to just put an arm around her. She was right there, and he was comfortable. He'd move if she wasn't, of course.
"Well that's got to change one day," he told her, as if he had any control over that. "Not that I've ever been to London to know what it's really like," he realised. "Lots of coloured lights," he told her, as if that was the most amazing thing the Colonel could conjure. "I mean lots."