“It’sstilla good idea.”
Lucien set his satchel on the narrow bed and began unpacking hisfew possessions. He shook out his only evening jacket and frowned. “This will need a good pressing.”
“Why?” His father asked absently. “You have somewhere to be?”
“Yes. The party tonight,” Lucien replied, deliberately keeping his eyes on the piece of clothing. “Miss Winifred invited me.”
He didn’t need to see the disapproval on his father’s face.
“Lucien,” he cautioned. “I thought you were done with all that.”
“She’s a friend. Miss Alexandra, too,” Lucien added, though that wouldn’t stand up under questioning. He could already picture her frown of disapproval at the mere idea.
“Miss Winifred is engaged to anAmerican,” his father said. “And I’m sure he’ll be there tonight.”
Lucien stiffened, then recalled her bare ring finger. She certainly hadn’t behaved like an engaged woman. “Then I will offer my congratulations,” he said casually.
“Well, they haven’t announced anything yet,” his father amended. “But I’m told it’s as good as done.”
Lucien turned around. “I understand perfectly. And not to worry. I have no intention of coming between the happy couple.”
“It’s notthemI’m worried about.”
Lucien’s shoulders tightened and he met his father’s sympathetic gaze head on. “The iron is in the cupboard, then? I’ll need to start now if I’m to have any chance of smoothing out these wrinkles by tonight.”
“Yes.” His father relented with a nod. “The same place it always was.”
“Thank you.” Lucien then left the room before anything more could be said. He would not be dissuaded from this. Not by anyone.
Three
My goodness, the staff have outdone themselves this year,” Phoebe marveled as she took in the ballroom, which was covered in pink flowers, gauzy matching bunting, and glimmering tea lights.
“It looks like the den of some particularly louche fairy king,” Alex remarked.
Phoebe laughed. “It does, rather. Mother must be delighted.”
As if to punctuate the point, the sound of their mother’s laugh carried across the space and the sisters exchanged a knowing look. At least the guest of honor was enjoying herself.
“I’m going to take a turn,” Alex said. It was time to get back to work.
“Don’t forget to have a little fun,” Phoebe called to her retreating back. “Itisa party, after all.”
She shrugged off the comment and began patrolling the perimeter of the dance floor, taking note of who was here—as well as who wasn’t. Though officially this might be her mother’s birthday party, it was also a useful measure of Atkinson Enterprise’s influence and the most interesting part of the evening by far.
Alex had begun unofficially working for her father while still in the schoolroom after she had exceeded the limits of her governess’s admittedly limited knowledge. Back then, Atkinson Enterpriseswas still known as Atkinson and Son, the accounting and investment firm her grandfather had started. Alex loved spending long afternoons in her father’s office, looking over the books searching for errors or finding new ways to increase profit margins. There it was calm and quiet. No constant distractions from her demanding sisters or interruptions from her well-meaning but overattentive mother. Where she didn’t have to explain what she was thinking about (Books, usually) or why she was frowning (Really? She hadn’t noticed). Where she could just… be. But best of all was her father’s unmitigated joy whenever she presented him with one of her findings.
My brilliant girl.
Her father dutifully opened a savings account in her name and deposited a sum every time she made him money, but it was his approval that she valued the most. It wasn’t until she went to Oxford, first to Lady Margaret Hall and then to the more broadminded Somerville College, to study mathematics and economics, that Alex realized there was good money to be made in investing in new businesses in exchange for a share of any future profits. She wrote up a proposal and presented it to her father the day after she graduated. And the day after that, she began working at the newly christened Atkinson Enterprises.
Since then, she and her father had been partners of sorts. Alex had her own office, met with employees, and looked over every single business proposal the company was considering investing in. She also sought out potential businesses on her own. And though she rarely met with clients herself, her father took her advice seriously. Alex knew that, to much of society, she was nothing but an odd little spinster whose father had given her the job out of pity. But they both knew the truth, and for a long while that was enough forAlex. Until their trip to New York a few months before had made it very clear that Alex’s unmarried status was hindering her future at the very company she had helped build. Now she was determined to do whatever was necessary to prove that she was perfectly capable of running the company to the board of Atkinson Enterprises.
Even something as ghastly assocializing.
Alex nodded at an older man with a ridiculously large mustache. He also happened to be the owner of one of England’s largest shipping companies. “Mr. DeWitt, lovely to see you here. Enjoy your evening.”
The man stared back at her in shock. “Oh, yes,” he said after a moment. “You as well, Miss Atkinson.”
