“I find that hard to believe. Most of London feels sorry for me.”
Ice queen. Spinster. Heartless shrew.
How many times had she heard those words, and not once had they ever bothered her. Until now. Because they must be true.
But this time her sister had no sharp retort. No snappy rejoinder. She only looked at Alex with undisguised pity. “I hope you can live with yourself, then. Knowing you let your chance at love slip away. I know I couldn’t.”
Alex turned to the hearth and stared at the flames, trying to find the words to explain. To assure Freddie that she had no regrets about Lucien. That she was confident in her decision. But when she finally looked back, Freddie was gone.
After Alex irrevocably ended things between them, Lucien left Park House and went straight to Alain’s hotel to ask for a job. The only place available at the moment was as a kitchen grunt, someone to peel potatoes and chop vegetables and clean dishes. It was well beneath his experience, but Lucien was desperate so he took it on the condition that he start the following week. He needed to see his father first. The condition was granted and Lucien left for Bunbury on the early train the next morning.
He needed to reassure his father that he was well on the mend and also get an update on his own health. Lucien didn’tthinkAlex or Mr. Atkinson would retaliate against his father, but it was better to be prepared. Now that Lucien was merely hurt instead of hurt and angry, he regretted his parting words to Alex. He couldn’t make her want to be with him and it was stupid to assume that their lone night together would be as earth-shattering for her as it had been for him. He felt like the naive, immature lad Alex must see him as. He wished he could be as controlled as she was, but Lucien simply didn’t have the stomach for it. Better to live life with his heart on his sleeve than locked up in a box somewhere.
He departed the train and as he descended the platform, the parallels between today and his last visit to Bunbury were not lost on him. How much had changed in a handful of weeks. But this time there was no Freddie to offer him a ride, so Lucien made the two-mile trek to Atkinson House on foot. He almost wished he had missed Freddie the first time too. That he had never renewed his acquaintance with her and thus never lost his heart to Alex. As he rounded the bend in the road and the large Georgian mansion came into view, Lucien came to a stop.
No, despite the very real pain in his chest, he could not regret what had happened. Then he let out a helpless little laugh. It had taken himyearsto move on from Freddie and that had been entirely one-sided. It stood to reason then that he would be pining for Alex for the rest of his life. He let out a resigned sigh, adjusted the strap of his battered satchel, and continued on. So be it, then. He was used to torch-bearing.
When Lucien finally arrived at the carriage house, he was surprised to see his father not only out of bed but waxing the landau with smooth, vigorous strokes. He glanced up at the sound of Lucien’s footsteps, and then his face broke out into a wide smile.
“There he is!”
Lucien had sent a message ahead of his arrival, but he truly had not expected his father to be up and about. As his father gripped him in a tight embrace, a weight Lucien hadn’t even known he was carrying floated off his shoulders.
“Hello, Father,” he murmured. “I’m so glad to see you.”
His father pulled back and gave him a worried look. “What’s happened, Lucien?”
Lucien shook his head and glanced down as the words seemed to get caught in his throat.
I’ve failed again.
And this time, it really did feel like the end of the world.
His father clicked his tongue. “Let’s get you inside. Mrs. Holloway brought over a basket with all your favorite treats and I’ll make us some tea.”
A little while later, they were seated in the flat’s cozy parlor drinking cups of Assam tea and Lucien was tearing into a still-warm scone.
“You look much better,” he said.
Indeed, his father’s face had filled out and the dark circles under his eyes were entirely gone. He was still thinner than he had once been, but no longer alarmingly gaunt.
“Thank you. I’ve been feeling better. You, however, look awful.”
Lucien let out a dry laugh and took a sip of tea. “Getting the stuffing kicked out of yourself will do that.” No sense in hiding the truth any longer, now that they were both on the mend.
His father did not look amused. “Yes, it certainly will, but you have the look of a young man in the throes of heartbreak.”
Lucien carefully set the teacup down and ignored the comment. “You knew about my injuries, then?”
His father watched him for a moment before answering. “Not initially, no. But once you were up and about Mrs. Drummond admitted how bad it was.”
Lucien was quiet as he took in this information.
“Now what about Miss Atkinson?”
“It’s over.”
“She called it off?”
