“Thatswine. Where is he now?”
“Somewhere on the Riviera with Madame Deveraux,” Lucien said with a casual shrug that probably did not fool Alain.
Indeed, his friend’s eyes filled with sympathy. “I am sorry, Lucien. Rene has always been impulsive. He could have built an empire with you but instead he chose to follow his heart—or rather his…” Alain motioned below his waist. “But the money will run out soon enough and Madame Deveraux will certainly leave with it.”
Lucien believed as much, but it was cold comfort given that he was still broke either way.
Alain brightened. “And in the meantime, I have plenty of things you can borrow.” Then he gestured for Lucien to hand him his wet shirt and trousers.
He complied and pulled on the robe, which indeed proved to be one of the softest things he had ever worn. “Thank you, Alain. I promise I will be out of here very soon.”
But Alain simply waved a hand and moved to drape the clothes over a drying rack set up before the hearth. “There is no rush at all. I am busy at the hotel most days anyway and am hardly ever here.”
Still, Lucien did not want to impose on his friend any more than necessary. “I have a meeting tomorrow morning, actually. Do you know the Atkinsons? They run Atkinson Enterprises.”
“Oh, yes,” Alain said. “Mr. Atkinson often comes to dine at the hotel with his clients. Shall I make us tea?”
“Please.”
Alain disappeared into the small kitchen and Lucien moved closer to the hearth and let the heat wash over him. As he slowly warmed up, he grew more drowsy and had almost dozed off on his feet when Alain bustled in with the tea tray.
“Here we are! Make sure you have a financier. I made them only yesterday,” he said, setting the tray down on the small table beside Lucien. “I am impressed that you already have a meeting with Atkinson Enterprises.”
“I grew up on the family’s country estate, actually,” Lucien explained as he joined Alain on the sofa. “My mother was the cook and my father is the head coachman.”
“How funny!” Alain said as he poured Lucien’s tea. “And now he wants to hire you?”
“Well, not exactly,” Lucien began, accepting both the teacup and a financier. “Do you know his daughter?”
Alain fell quiet for a moment as he considered the question. “She has dined with him before, I believe. A very elegant young woman.”
“Not Winifred,” Lucien said automatically. “The eldest one. Alexandra.”
Alain raised an eyebrow. “That was who I meant.”
Lucien’s cheeks began to heat. “Right. Of course.”
He felt embarrassed to have made such an assumption, which made him no better than everyone else.
“You’re blushing,” Alain said unnecessarily. “Do youlikeMiss Alexandra?”
Lucien opened his mouth to deny it, like a petulant schoolboy, but he was supposed to like Alex. He cleared his throat instead. “Ah, that is a rather complicated question at present,” he said instead, which naturally only heightened Alain’s interest.
“Explain.”
“We are… in a manner of speaking… courting.”
“What!” Alain cried out and threw up his hands. “But this is wonderful!” Then he immediately sobered. “Why aren’t you more excited? You look like you ate some bad fish and I know it is not because of my baking.”
“It is still new.Verynew.”
Alain gave him an understanding look. “Does her father not approve?”
“That is something we will discuss tomorrow,” Lucien said carefully. That was true enough given that he had yet to see Mr. Atkinson since Alex’s proposition. Who knew how the man would take the news, fake or not.
Alain nodded as he considered this. “Well, he would be a fool to reject you simply because of your family. And besides, he seems rather unconventional himself if he lets his daughter work for him.”
“A fair point.”
