As Mr. Chisolm left him, Lucien looked around for Alex, but she had disappeared. Mr. Atkinson was deep in conversation with a few older men, so Lucien wandered about feeling like a lost lamb until Mrs. LaSalle gestured to a set of French doors at the back of the room that opened out onto a terrace. “She’s out there. I’ll keep the others away so you can have some privacy. Enjoy yourselves,” she said with a wink, then glided away.
Lucien swallowed and headed outside. Alex stood alone in a dark corner with her arms crossed, staring out at the back garden. Every rigid inch of her bearing seemed designed to ward off others, but Lucien wasn’t deterred.
It made her seem less intimidating, to know that even she wasn’t immune to youthful romantic impulses and had experienced real heartbreak.
Heartbreak that still clearly affected her years later.
Alex didn’t look at him as he approached. “Did you have a productive chat with Mr. Chisolm?”
Lucien paused for a moment, surprised. But then, Alex would have eyes in the back of her head. “He wants to meet at his club next week,” he replied as he came beside her.
“Is that so?” she said flatly.
“If you don’t want me to, I won’t.”
She shot him a challenging look. “Why wouldn’t I want you to meet with him?”
Lucien stared back at her. “I don’t know,” he said carefully before gathering his courage. “Do… do you not like him?”
Her shoulders tensed as she huffed a laugh and turned back to the garden. “That hardly matters.”
“It does to me,” he said after a moment.
“Well, itshouldn’t.” Then Alex whirled on him. “This is business, Lucien,” she said with exasperation. “And I expect you to make decisions based on what is best for you without regard for me. Because that is how this works,” she added sharply. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes bright with anger. It was the closest she had ever come to completely losing her cool demeanor. And Lucien was filled with a sudden, overwhelming desire to see that. Very much.
“I understand.”
She held his gaze for another moment as the fire faded from her eyes. “Good. We should circle the room once more. Mr. Chisolm isn’t your only option.”
“He isn’t yours, either,” Lucien murmured.
She raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”
Lucien pressed his lips together. He didn’t want to embarrass her, truly. But if Alex was still carrying around that man’s rejection and letting it define her worth, she deserved to know the truth.
“I only meant that you have other options as well. Romantically speaking.”
Her dark eyes hardened. “Did he say something to you about me?” Her voice was low and dangerous. He suddenly wished to take the words back, but his hesitation was answer enough. “Benjamin Chisolm is a fine enough businessman,” she began. “But you would do well not to trust him with anything else. Furthermore, I would appreciate it if you refrained from making comments about my life, romantic or otherwise. I neither want nor need your sympathy. You are here to perform a service, and I in kind.”
Lucien inhaled deeply in a bid to tamp down his frustration. This woman wasimpossible. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to offend you with my concern.”
If Alex picked up on his sarcasm, she didn’t acknowledge it. She simply continued on, forcing Lucien to trail behind her like a chastised puppy. Her complete disinterest in developing even the slightest rapport unexpectedly stung. Perhaps she really was the heartless ice queen everyone claimed. Benjamin Chisolm had gotten the best of her, and now he was left with the scraps.
Upon returning to the drawing room, he automatically held out his arm.
You are here to perform a service.
And by God he would do it. Alex glanced at him and her eyes flashed with surprise before she dutifully slid her arm through his. A kind of instinctual regret began to well inside him, but Lucienpushed the feeling aside and kept his expression impassive. He would perform his role just as she demanded. Nothing more.
Alex spent the rest of the evening in a terrible mood while doing her best to stay as far away from Benjamin as possible. Yet she couldn’t help sneaking surreptitious glances at him every chance she got. Objectively, she understood that he was attractive, with his dark hair and above-average height. But there was a sleekness to him now that hadn’t been present when they first met back at Oxford. Chisolm family tradition dictated that he, the third son of a baronet, enter the church. But Benjamin developed an interest in the moral sciences, particularly economics. The baronet had not supported his son’s academic about-face and cut off his already meager allowance. When Alex met him, he had been a poor student struggling to pay his own way by working as a tutor. Yet he seemed terribly impressed by her immediately, even when she boldly questioned his worship of Adam Smith:
He insists that the free market works best when fueled by the unrestrained pursuit of self-interest, yet he needed to live with his mother for years in order to finish his masterwork.
Benjamin had paused and raised an eyebrow.I’m afraid I don’t follow you, Miss Atkinson.
Well, I doubt she cooked his food or washed his socks purely out of her own self-interest, Alex had tossed off.His success was built on the back of someone else’s sacrifice. Someone who loved him and, arguably, believed in what he was doing. We can’t all live as Mr. Smith, because someone has to do the washing up.
Alex had fully expected him to dismiss her out of hand, but he only stared at her, while a slow smile took over. That had been the start of it. The connection between them was as undeniable as it was bewildering. But now the qualities that had once drawn her to him seemed snuffed out entirely.
