Page 72 of Not So Very Sensible

“Who, my husband or my brother?”

“Francine,” she said deliberately—she wasn’t about to play this woman’s games and kowtow to her anymore—”I’m sorry, but I have another appointment, so I really need to take those photos and get going.”

Francine gestured for someone else to join them. Someone who wore the same eye brooms as in that photo she’d seen on Facebook. Who wore the large rock on her hand as in that photo she’d seen on Facebook.

“Elinor, this is Lucinda Steele.”

Her heart froze. This was why Francine had invited her. She was like a sadistic child, watching Ellie’s reaction.

Well, she wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. Ellie straightened. “Hello.”

“Oh! I thought you were one of the waitstaff.” Lucinda smiled, her teeth blinding white, her eyes cold. “Pleasure to meet you.”

Yeah, that didn’t seem exactly true.

“Elinor met Ethan a couple of weeks ago at the murder mystery weekend,” Francine murmured, draining her drink then watching from behind her empty champagne flute.

“Really?” Lucinda’s gaze could snap glass.

Lord, please help me keep it together. Ellie had to alleviate the concern she could see both women had. So she shrugged and played pretend again. “It was a fun weekend. I went with my sister, and we enjoyed meeting so many people.” See, ladies? I’m not encroaching on your territory. You’ve got nothing to worry about.

Lucinda eyed Ellie’s hair before flicking one of her own plump curls that looked fresh from the hairdresser. “You don’t seem to be the usual sort of person a Ferris would consort with.”

“There certainly wasn’t any consorting,” she assured, before a vision of their near kiss strode guilty steps across her mind. “It was good to know he wants to be a youth pastor,” she added desperately.

“A what?”

Oops. This wasn’t getting any better.

“I think you must be mistaken, dear.” Oh, could any word hold more derision than a “dear” from someone like Francine? “My brother intends to practice law. Anything he might’ve said otherwise is just a phase.”

“Interesting.” And obviously something he must’ve expressed before, seeing his sister seemed confident in his ambition, which suggested the question had surfaced before.

“Yes, it certainly is,” Francine continued. “You are aware that Ethan and Lucinda are engaged.”

Lucinda crossed her arms, her diamond twinkling on the finger that just so happened to be tapping on her upper arm.

“Congratulations.”

“Ethan and I have known each other all our lives,” Lucinda finally said.

And implied in that statement was that Ellie had known him all of two minutes. Which was fair. She pretty much had. And she’d been taken in by his so-called genuine act and his comments about not being interested in money, status, or looks. With her carefully coiffed hair, perfect makeup, perfect skin, and designer dress that fit her like a glove, Lucinda couldn’t be more different than Ellie if she’d tried. Clearly what Ethan had said to her didn’t line up with his actions, and this youth pastor wannabe didn’t practice what he preached.

Oh, she hoped Ethan wouldn’t suddenly appear! “Anyway, I should get to work.” Because clearly, she didn’t belong with these snooty types. And clearly, they didn’t want her here. “Nice to meet you, Lucinda.”

“Mm.”

That sounded like her cue to leave. “I’ll just be a few minutes, and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Don’t let us keep you.” Francine’s smile looked as fake as Ellie’s felt.

“Enjoy the evening.”

She turned, narrowly dodging the silver-haired man who frowned at her. “Excuse me,” she muttered. She couldn’t wait to get away.

Ethan’s stomach tensed as he waited for a pause in the conversation with one of his mother’s oldest friends. Aunt Sally—the “aunt” was tokenistic—could talk the hind leg off a donkey and was about as interesting. But the fact she only needed to talk at him and barely required an answer gave him time to sort through his own questions and emotions. Like, why were so many people here? Was it someone’s birthday he’d forgotten? Francine had implied it would just be family, so why did more and more people keep arriving? Was this Francine’s way of telling their nearest and dearest that Lucinda and he weren’t engaged after all?

Except Lucinda didn’t seem too fazed about the upcoming announcement. She seemed her usual bubbly self, talking to people, while he hid in here, dodging waiters who kept piling overly pretty—and pretty small-sized—food onto silver platters. What he’d give for a decent big hamburger and hot chips from the local takeaway.