Freddie was pleasant as usual and practically dripped withcharisma, but truthfully, Lucien was growing rather bored. Once he would have given his right arm to have her undivided attention. Now though… now he was struggling not to think of Alex, which had been the case for days.
Alex, who wasn’t charming at all, and didn’t even try to be. Yet Lucien found helikedher complete disinterest in giving the usual shallow flatteries—or even standard politeness, for that matter. It was refreshing. Exciting, even. For one never knew what she would say next. And her stoicism, which had so intimidated him as a boy, now gave her an air of inviting mystery.
“And when were you last in Paris?” Lucien managed to ask, fighting to refocus his attention on the woman who had been the object of his affection for nearly half his life.
“Two years ago now,” Freddie said. “I went to the Continent with Mother and we had the most wonderful time. She begged Alex to come. But my sister claimed to be far too busy with work.” Freddie rolled her eyes, as if this was merely a convenient excuse. “She just doesn’t know how to have any fun.”
Though Lucien didn’t exactly disagree, hewassupposed to be courting this woman. “She has other good qualities,” he replied truthfully.
Freddie’s eyebrows rose in surprise, but before she could respond, something caught her eye over his shoulder. “Oh God,” she muttered. “Here comes the spoilsport now.”
Lucien turned around as Alex marched across the room. Tonight she wore a sapphire gown that was even more becoming than the green one she had worn at the LaSalles’. As their gazes met, her dark eyes narrowed. Lucien couldn’t help but smile in return.
“Here you are.” He handed Alex the cup of punch.
She stopped abruptly and eyed the cup, as if he were offering her a poisoned apple.
“It’s customary to say ‘thank you,’” Freddie put in.
Alex shot her sister a scowl and took it. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” Lucien murmured.
Alex turned to him and her mouth curved in the barest hint of a smile.
Freddie cleared her throat. “Lucien and I were just talking of Paris. I told him you’ve never been, even though Mother invited you.”
It almost sounded like an accusation.
“I would have liked to go with you,” Alex said. “But I couldn’t get away from the business at the time.”
“Right,” Freddie replied tightly. “Can youeverget away?”
“It has been difficult as of late.”
“Yes, I can imagine. What with all the tasks you have at the moment.” Freddie cast a not-so-subtle glance at him.
The tension between them was so palpable, Lucien nearly tugged at his collar.
Alex glowered, then gestured to the doorway. “I believe your Mr. Ericson has just arrived.”
“So he has,” Freddie said as she lifted her chin. “I had better say hello before you lose any future stock options.”
Then she sashayed away, drawing the eye of nearly every man in the entire room as she passed. Hank Ericson’s face lit up so brightly they could have stuck him in a harbor to help guide boats.
“Is everything all right between you two?”
Alex blinked. She too had been following Freddie’s progress and turned to him. “Why do you say that?”
“There seemed to be some unresolved anger,” Lucien said. “The trip to Paris?”
“Oh. That’s how things always are with us,” Alex replied with a dismissive wave, but Lucien wasn’t convinced. After all, he had quite literallybeenthere and was hard-pressed to recall the sisters exchanging barbs with this level of frequency, or animosity. Though Alex had always emanated a cool detachment, Lucien could remember her fierce protectiveness of Freddie when they were young. While for her part Freddie looked up to her eldest sister as if she hung the moon. Lucien didn’t know when things had changed or what was at the root of this discord. But neither one of them seemed very happy about it.
“Besides,” Alex continued, “Freddie would have hated if I went on that trip. She and Mother spent most of their time shopping and eating.”
“Well, itisParis,” Lucien pointed out. “What would you have done instead?”
“Visit the catacombs,” she answered immediately. Thank goodness Lucien hadn’t taken a sip of punch or he would have spit it across the room. “Have you been?”
