But Alex stamped down the feeling. Buried it with all the others she did not indulge in. Better for him to be disappointed with her now than later on anyway.
He did not look at her again before he stormed from the room. And Alex was alone once more.
Twenty-Two
Lucien stifled a yawn with the back of his hand as he entered the lecture room of the Royal Geographical Society. It was only a few minutes before the discussion started, but most of the attendees hadn’t taken their seats yet and instead milled about the room happily chatting with one another. Lucien looked for Alex’s stiff form, but his heart sank. She wasn’t here. He quickly took an empty seat at the back and braced his elbows on his thighs. If she didn’t come tonight, he needed a plan.
He had left Alex’s office the night before convinced that she was the most maddening, impossible woman he hadeverencountered. Their exchange echoed in his head as he stormed into Alain’s flat, while he stripped down to his smallclothes, and as he scrubbed her scent from his face and body. Then he flung himself onto a chair and glared up at the ceiling.
After all, a woman like me would beluckyto have an offer from a man like him.
Lucien let out a groan and pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes.
Maddening, impossible, and irritatinglyinsightful.
For until the truth of her past with Chisolm left her lips, it had been all too easy to imagine her as the wounded party. As thelonely, heartbroken young woman burying herself in work to forget the pain of rejection. This realization stripped the undeserved anger from his bones. But it was the certainty in her words and bearing that left him tossing and turning for most of the night.
Because it was proof that he wasn’t any better. That he saw her just like everyone else.
And for that Lucien was thoroughly ashamed of himself.
I thought I was in love
ButhadAlex loved him? Was she even capable of the emotion? She spoke of intimacy the same way she talked of stock portfolios and investment capital. Lucien had wanted her to rage at him. To tear off that mask of cool indifference. But he knew the exact moment he lost her.
I don’t need your pity.
He pinched the bridge of his nose as his irritation began to rise anew. If only Alex wereherehe could try to—
“Mr. Taylor.”
Lucien glanced up in the direction of the mildly disapproving voice and locked eyes with Alex’s formidable aunt.
She came.
He scrambled to his feet and bobbed his head. “Mrs. Bailey,” he said while trying to cast a furtive glance behind her.
In response, the older woman let out an exasperated huff. “Alexandra will be here in a moment. She is in the hallway speaking with Mrs. LaSalle.”
Lucien gave a distracted nod and glanced eagerly toward the doorway. “Good. Wonderful. I’m very glad she is here.”
Mrs. Bailey narrowed her eyes. “Yes. I wanted to speak with you before she returns. About your… courtship.”
The hesitation in her voice drew his full attention.
“Madame?”
“I was a great fan of your mother. She made her way in the world through a mixture of talent and sheer will I couldn’t help but admire.”
“Thank you—”
She held up a hand. “Let me finish. Your father, however, always struck me as being more concerned with finding new ways to sneak in a few more chapters than excelling at his job.”
Lucien was sorely tempted to point out that there weren’t very many ways to excel beyond performing the task of driving Mr. Atkinson around, but he held his tongue. Besides, Mrs. Bailey wasn’t exactly wrong, as finding new ways to read more was one of the chief driving forces of his father’s life.
“Now, I may be a spoiled old woman, but I am not a snob. I don’t care that your father is the coachman and your mother was the cook. Not if you truly care for Alexandra. I say all this because I have not yet decided which of your parent’s traits you have inherited: the drive of your mother, or the opportunism of your father. And I amquiteinterested to see which wins out.”
Lucien cleared his throat and nodded. He understood her skepticism, even while finding it deeply insulting.
