Alex realized she was gripping her hands together and forced them apart before plastering a smile on her face.
“Good evening, Miss Alexandra,” Lucien said as he turned to her with a short bow. For reasons she couldn’t begin to understand, her brain decided that was the ideal moment for the memory of Lucien’s quite naked and well-formed backside to pop into her mind.
It didn’t matter that her corset had been loosened. She still couldn’t breathe. He was wearing the same suit as the night of her mother’s birthday party. Some people would be appalled by this faux pas, but Alex didn’t care. He looked splendid.
“Good evening,” Alex rasped. She couldn’t help standing a little straighter as his gaze skimmed appreciatively over her figure.
“We had better go,” her father said, checking his pocket watch. Then he turned to his wife. “Have a good night, my dear. Where are you ladies off to this evening?”
“The Foxes are having a little soiree. But I have half a mind to accompany Freddie instead,” her mother said with a cross look, to which Freddie simply rolled her eyes.
In Alex’s opinion, her sister had been given far too much freedom as a young girl and their parents had long ago given up on any meaningful attempts to rein in her behavior. Granted, Freddie hadn’t ever gotten intotoomuch trouble—or at least had the good sense to be discreet about it—but now her years of carefree carousing had begun to catch up to her. She was largely considered a flibbertigibbet, and if this engagement with Hank Jr. did not come to fruition, there was a chance she could end up on the shelf right beside Alex.
Unless Lucien steps in.
And why wouldn’t he? Especially if Alex made a success of him, which she had every reason to expect he would be. Alex felt her hands tighten again but she forced them to remain by her side as they said their good-byes and exited the parlor.
“You look nice, my dear,” her father said offhandedly as he escorted her down the hall to the carriage.
The compliment took her by surprise. “Thank you.”
She couldn’t remember the last time he said something like that to her. Most of their conversations revolved around the business or whatever irritating debacle one of her sisters found themselves in. For the last few years, Phoebe had been the biggest thorn in his side but they had reached an understanding of sorts over the summer and her engagement to a duke certainly helped.
Now it was Freddie causing him the most grief. Though hopefully this little charade would firmly put an end to that.
“Lucien told me he’s staying in Hackney,” her father said conversationally as they exited the house. “We could find him something closer, couldn’t we? The Albany, perhaps?”
Alex nodded. “Yes. I thought the very same.”
“AndIsaid I am perfectly fine where I am,” Lucien chimed in good-naturedly. “Though I do appreciate the offer.”
“Suit yourself,” her father said with a shrug. “But let me know if you change your mind. Ah, here’s Markham.”
Just then, their coachman alighted from the carriage and opened the door. For a moment, Alex wondered if this was at all awkward for him and Lucien. Markham had worked under Mr. Taylor until his recent illness and had enjoyed a promotion of sorts at the expense of the man’s health. Would they have even attempted this charade if Lucien’s father was still head coachman? Everything would have been decidedly more complicated if that had been the case…
But then Lucien held out his hand and her thoughts scattered.
“Thank you,” she murmured as her palm slid against his. Even through the silk of her glove, she could feel the heat radiating off his skin and instinctively shivered.
Lucien frowned in concern as he helped her into the carriage. “Are you cold?”
Before she could assure him that she was fine, her father climbed in behind them and took the seat beside Alex.
As the carriage rocked into motion, Alex turned toward the window. Usually she loved the look of Belgravia in the evening, but tonight the street scenes passed by in a blur of gaslight while her father and Lucien made idle conversation beside her. When they finally turned onto the LaSalles’ street, her hands tightened on her lap and her heart fluttered in her chest.
For God’s sake, she was still nervous. Well, she wouldn’t stand for it.
“Alex.” Her father gave her an encouraging smile as the carriage rocked to a stop. “It’s going to be fine.”
“I know,” she said hastily, then flashed him a brittle smile that didn’t convince either of them.
Then he addressed Lucien. “Ready for the gauntlet?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” he said with a nervous laugh. Then he looked back at Alex. “Let’s get you inside.”
Her father chuckled and clapped his hands. “That’s the spirit. No sense in dillydallying. Onward!”
They had arrived fashionably late, as her father always preferred to make an entrance, and were led into the drawing room by a towering butler to find the gathering in full swing.
