“Yes, well, he doesn’t have to anymore,” Alex grumbled.
Aunt Winifred’s gaze softened a little. “He owes a great deal to you, doesn’t he?”
Alex looked out the window as London passed by in a soot-tinged whirl. “We owe it to each other,” she replied honestly.
She very well knew that most men in his position would not have let their daughters step foot inside their place of business, let alone work there. Yet Philip Atkinson had only too readily brought her into his world after she had left Oxford. But though Alex might be been allowed to come to the office, meet with his mediocre employees, and turn their proposals into something that wouldactually turn a profit, it never felt like enough. Even the men she worked with didn’t quite take her seriously. They always seemed to find a way to undermine her suggestions, if not to her face then at least to each other. Or convince themselves that it had actually been her father who had such brilliant insights rather than Alex herself.NeverAlex.
She knew very well that if any of them had found themselves in such a position they would have left, in loud protest, in fact. But Alex didn’t have that luxury. For there was nowhere else for her to go as no other firm would hire her. So instead, she worked harder for longer and found some degree of satisfaction in that.
Until she came up with a plan to win the board’s unanimous approval as her father’s heir and take over the company herself one day. And for that she would write a dozen decorum clauses if it got her what she wanted.
Aunt Winifred cleared her throat.
Alex blinked. Her aunt had said something but her mind had wanderedagain. “Sorry?”
“I was saying that I don’t understand why you couldn’t come inside the house and change,” Aunt Winifred began. “As you have several lovely walking gowns in your possession.”
Alex was tempted to ask exactlyhowher aunt knew this, but the answer would likely only annoy her. Aunt Winifred and her mother had probably taken an inventory of her wardrobe in preparation for this blasted courtship business.
“Because there wasn’t any time,” Alex replied. “And walking gowns are the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard of, given that I am perfectly able to walk in what I am wearing now.”
Aunt Winifred raised a brow. “You very well know that thepurpose of a walking gown is to show off your figure to the greatest advantage while allowing for ease of movement during a promenade.” Her disapproving gaze skimmed down her figure. “Alas, I cannot say the same of what you are currently wearing.”
Alex lifted her chin. “I don’t care.”
“But what about Mr. Taylor?”
“He saw me in this earlier and didn’t seem to mind.”
Aunt Winifred huffed. “Well, he certainly wouldn’ttellyou. My goodness, Alexandra. You have a lot to learn about men.”
“I doubt that, given I work with them every day,” she replied dryly.
As she hoped, Aunt Winifred didn’t have a response to that remark and they traveled the rest of the way to Hyde Park in blessed silence.
They were to meet Lucien by the monstrous Albert Memorial and then walk along the path by the Serpentine. It was a popular route that should give them plenty of time to be observed by the gossipmongers of the ton. The carriage came to a stop and they disembarked not far from the memorial. As they walked along the pavement, Alex spotted Lucien first. He was idly pacing around, hands shoved in his trouser pockets. He hadn’t yet noticed them, so Alex took the opportunity to look him over freely. Lucien still wore that brown town suit from earlier—the one that fit him remarkably well, though it was just a bit too short. She was curious when he had acquired it, given that his evening suit had not been of equal quality. But though Alex did not move about much in society, she very well knew that it wasnotthe sort of thing one could discuss with a gentleman, so her curiosity would remain unsated.
“Oh, there he is,” Aunt Winifred cut in. “My, he is lookingverywell today.”
Alex made a noncommittal hum, though her eyes never left his figure.
He looked directly at her then, as if he had sensed her presence, and as their eyes met Alex felt a strange jolt of awareness, even at this distance. He smiled and raised a hand in greeting and Alex did the same, though she felt horribly awkward, like an old forgotten automaton in need of oil.
As they approached, her aunt leaned in by her ear. “There is a little path not far from here that offers some privacy,” she murmured. “I will conveniently get lost, if you like.”
“No,” Alex gritted out, keeping her smile. “That will not be necessary.”
Aunt Winifred huffed. “Oh, you are no fun,” she teased.
The comment had been playfully meant, and yet Alex couldn’t help bristling. It was true, after all. Freddie was fun. Phoebe was fun too, when she wasn’t worried about that school of hers. But Alex? No one would ever call her fun. And even when shewashaving fun, people criticized her for not having fun in the right way. Intheirway. She was told to smile. To talk more. To laugh louder. Since continually failing to meet other people’s expectations was exhausting, Alex removed herself from such situations as much as possible. But as she stared at the handsome young man waiting for her, Alex understood that she wouldn’t have that luxury anymore. And a pit formed in her stomach.
“Are you all right, my dear?” Aunt Winifred murmured.
Alex gave herself a shake, but the feeling that had begun to coil in her belly did not dissipate. “Yes. Only I… I…” she struggled toexplain herself. Luckily, her aunt’s eyes softened and she patted her arm.
“It’s perfectly natural to feel nervous.”
Nervous.
