He wasn’t the first man she had been with. But he was the first man—theonlyman—who had considered her pleasure. That was the problem. Technically, Benjamin took her virginity—which she believed to be a social construct designed to control women anyway—but her first taste of true intimacy was with Lucien. He had seen a side of her no one else had. A side she normally kept carefully hidden away. Because it signaled uncontrollable need. Dependency. Recklessness. All the things she abhorred most.
“May I speak with you,” he continued. “Privately?”
Yes.
Alex shut her eyes against the nearly overwhelming urge to accept his offer. To allow herself to be spirited away to some dark corner. And then…
She forced her eyes open. The balance of power had shifted between them. And it had to be remedied immediately.
“I’d prefer we stay here,” she said carefully.
Lucien’s brow wrinkled with concern rather than irritation. “All right. Would you care for any refreshments?”
Alex nodded. Her throat felt lined with sandpaper.
Lucien smiled at that and rose before offering her his arm. Must he always be sopolite? She took it reluctantly and allowed him toguide her to the next room, where a large bowl of punch and plates of shortbread were laid out. He handed her a glass first, before taking his own, then gestured to the shortbread, which she declined.
Aunt Winifred was nearby, talking with an older man that must be her erstwhile friend. She caught Alex’s gaze and nodded in approval. No doubt Aunt Winifred wouldn’t mind if she and Lucien slipped away somewhere. There were likely a half dozen empty rooms in this place. Perfect for a quick tryst. Alex forced the wayward thought from her mind and took a sip of punch, then grimaced.
Lucien chuckled. “It does leave something to be desired.”
“Did no one taste this after dumping an entire sack of sugar into the bowl?”
“An appalling misuse of sweetener,” he quipped, flashing her that private little smile once more.
The corners of her mouth trembled with the urge to return it. “Your Gallic sensibilities must be horribly offended. Let me apologize on behalf of the British inclination to over-sugar anything.”
The smile turned into a grin. “Ah, but you forget I have the audacity to be half English. An unforgivable flaw of which I was often reminded.”
“Oh heavens, I can only imagine,” she said with a laugh. Alaugh.
And all while Lucien watched her with those dazzling eyes of his. Then he took another sip of the terrible punch and winced. “God, it’s even worse the second time.”
Another laugh burst from her, even louder than the first, and Alex slapped a hand over her mouth as a few people cast inquiring looks in their direction.
Get ahold of yourself.
She removed her hand and straightened her shoulders, attempting her usual formality. “I assume you didn’t wish to talk to me about the punch.”
Lucien glanced down and shook his head. “No. I wanted to apologize for my behavior yesterday.” Then he looked up, his eyes filled with remorse. “You were right. I made a number of assumptions about you and it was difficult to accept my own thoughtlessness.”
Alex felt her heart skip several beats. She shouldn’t be so affected by this simple admission. After all, shewasright. And yet, how often had anyone—least of all aman—admitted it with such simplicity? Such lack of hubris?
“Thank you,” she murmured. “I appreciate you saying that.”
The corner of his mouth lifted and he leaned a little closer to her. As she inhaled a greedy lungful of his scent, her eyelids fluttered. Would he ask to speak with her privately once more? Alex wasn’t sure she possessed the strength to say no a second time.
“Then we are friends again?”
She snapped to attention. He was giving her a hopeful, open look that called to mind that long-ago night when she had found him by the hedge, his boyish face streaked with tears.
You really think I could leave this place?
“Yes. Of course. Friends.” Alex looked away as she swallowed the bitter tang that filled her mouth.Friends.“Excuse me. I need to freshen up.” Then she left without another word.
Alex remained in the powder room for as long as she possibly could before her aunt would come looking for her. She stared at her somber reflection in the gilt-framed mirror and pretended to fusswith her hair, though there was no one else around she needed to convince.
Friends.
