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Lia met his eyes. His mouth quirked as if trying not to laugh at her.
“You’re flirting.” She pointed at him.
“Oh, you noticed.”
Lia was about to tell Mr. Bowman a few other things she’d noticed when their housekeeper, Mrs. Banks, bustled down the long hallway, looking as angry as any woman in a pink cardigan and tweed skirt has ever looked. A young woman accompanied Mrs. Banks, a young woman who looked as if she’d been crying.
“Miss Lia,” Mrs. Banks said. “I need a word. Sir.” She nodded an apology to Mr. Bowman.
“What is it?” Lia asked.
“You know this girl?” Mrs. Banks pointed at the pretty young woman who wore the black-and-white uniform of the catering staff. Her name tag read Rita.
“Yes, that’s Rita,” Lia said. She had never seen the girl before in her life.
“Did you give her this?” Mrs. Banks held up a bottle of Hermès perfume still in the packaging. Lia understood the situation at once—a member of the catering staff had nicked one of her graduation gifts. “Found her stuffing it down in her bag. She said it was hers.”
“It’s hers,” Lia said.
“Really?” Mrs. Banks asked. “Can you explain why it was in a wrapped box with a tag on it that said, ‘To Lia, with love and adoration, from XL’?”
Lia blushed crimson. Mr. Bowman said not a word, but the slight arch of his left eyebrow spoke volumes.
“I don’t like that perfume,” Lia said. “It makes me sneeze. Makes Mum sneeze, too.”
“Really, I thought this was your mother’s scent?” Mrs. Banks asked.
“I’m sure you must be mistaken.” Lia stood up as straight as she could. She didn’t like being haughty but she could do it when she had to. “I don’t like the perfume. I gave it to Rita. End of discussion.”
“All right. I see,” Mrs. Banks said. “Just a misunderstanding, then. Apologies for the interruption. Back to work, girl.”
Rita mouthed a “Thank you” to Lia before turning and running down the hallway, Mrs. Banks following behind her.
Lia glanced at August, who was eyeing her with intense interest.
“We should go in to dinner,” she said. August offered her his arm and, against her better judgment, she took it.
They walked side by side down the long main hall, toward the large salon where dinner would be held.
“XL,” August said. “Xavier Lloyd? That’s your father’s attorney, isn’t it? Or perhaps XL is someone’s very flattering nickname?”
“No idea. Just one of Daddy’s friends, I’m sure.”
Xavier Lloydwasher father’s attorney. He was also Rani’s best client. Big tipper. Always sent flowers and very expensive gifts.
“That was kind of you not to get that girl sacked for stealing,” August said.
“I gave her the perfume. You heard me.”
“Poor girl.” August sighed as they walked to the salon. “Waiting tables in high heels. Easier ways for a pretty girl to make money.”
Lia stiffened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Answering phones. Web design. Driving Formula 1 race cars,” he said. “What did you think I meant?”
Lia didn’t answer. She just walked on. The vague looming something she’d been dreading tonight? Good chance it was the man walking right next to her. He definitely had an ulterior motive for attending the party—that she knew. But what?
“Would you allow me to sit with you at dinner?” August asked as they entered the salon.
