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To his amazement, Mrs. Houston reached out and cupped his face right there in the kitchen. Her sharp gaze had always fascinated and repelled him. She seemed to know things, deep things, about people only by looking at them. “My boy, we both knowthatis impossible.”
His cheek heated under her palm, which was rough from decades of work. She gave him another warm smile, but there was no hiding the sadness in her eyes as she pulled away. “Now, get out of the way,” she said with a flick of her wrist. “Unless you plan to play footman for the night.”
“I trust you don’t want Sir Alfred’s expensive champagne to end up on the guests,” he quipped, relieved to retreat back into the safe confines of good-natured banter.
“Off with you, then.”
Alec did as he was told and traveled up a back staircase that deposited him into a hallway near the receiving room. As was usually the case, Sir Alfred was surrounded by a circle of admirers of all ages looking every inch the distinguished pillar of society in his black tails and carefully styled salt-and-pepper hair. He guarded his reputation as fiercely as the Crown’s secrets and had never been attached to even a whiff of scandal.
Taking in the son of the tragic poet Edward Gresham, and so soon after assuming guardianship of his niece, only increased his already esteemed character. Now in the autumn of his life, Sir Alfred was thoroughly above reproach. Virtually untouchable.
And if he weren’t a man of honor, that could make him very dangerous.
“Alec! Isn’t this a welcome surprise.” He reached out and gave him an enthusiastic handshake. Anyone else would think Sir Alfred was speaking the truth, but Alec had spent almost as much time at the poker table fleecing his wealthy classmates as he had in the Bodleian Library. Now he was much more adept at noticing the small details that gave people away. Sir Alfred’s tell was a slight tapping of his right foot. The man was profoundly annoyed, and Alec couldn’t fathom why. He had been wallowing in icy mud formonthsnow. Other members of the excavation team were given leave if they could be spared. And Alec certainly hadn’t shirked any of his duties in coming here.
Sir Alfred pulled him closer and lowered his voice to a theatrical whisper. “Don’t tell me you came from downstairs. Howegalitarianof you.” Alec ignored the remark as the crowd of sycophants chuckled along with him.
“I hope you don’t mind the imposition, sir, but I couldn’t miss Lottie’s first ball.” Alec gave him a sincere look and held on to his hand a moment longer than was polite. “I’m staying with a friend nearby, so I won’t trouble you for a room.”
Never mind that the massive town house had upward of eight bedrooms.
“Of course not.” Sir Alfred flashed him a cool smile. “She will be delighted.”
As a committed bachelor, Sir Alfred wasn’t in the habit of entertaining, but he had spared no expense that night for his beloved niece. The ballroom of the lavish town house was transformed into an enchanted garden with live trees, fresh flowers, and lights covered by shades with drawings of fairies. Alec couldn’t stop smiling as he moved through the crush of people. If only he could have seen the look on Lottie’s face when she first entered. She must have been delighted. He searched and searched but couldn’t catch sight of Lottie’s cinnamon hair.
Finally he recognized Miss Abigail Thorne, Lottie’s closest friend from school, though in her low-cut gown and massive crown of curls, she bore little resemblance to the awkward creature he had met only last summer. “Miss Thorne! I’m looking for the lady of the hour. Where is she?”
“Why hello, Mr. Gresham.” She gave him a simpering smile and fluttered her eyelashes. “I didn’t knowyouwould be here.” Someone moved behind her, and the young lady took the opportunity to press against Alec’s side.
“It’s a surprise.” Alec smiled tightly as she placed her hand on his arm.
But she didn’t seem to hear a word over the din of the crowd, though she did use the noise level as an excuse to lean closer to his ear. “Wherever have you been all this time? Don’t tell me Lottie’s been keeping you away with her upstairs.”
“I’ve only just arrived. She’s upstairs?”
“Yes.” Miss Thorne scoffed. “Lord Exeter made a joke. He’s very droll, you know. A renowned wit. But of courseLottiemistook him. She didn’t say anything—Lord Exeter couldn’t even tell she was offended—but went directly to her room. That was nearly thirty minutes ago. People will start to notice soon. Really, it’s so unbecoming to exhibit such childish behavior during herowndebut. If I had done such a thing at mine—”
“Thank you, Miss Thorne. I must go.” Alec pried her hand off him and maneuvered through the crowd. He exited the ballroom and took the servants’ staircase up to the third floor, where Lottie’s room overlooked the back garden. Her bedroom door was opened a crack, and a sliver of light illuminated the hall. The rich carpet masked Alec’s footfalls as he spied Lottie sitting on her bed with her back to the door. She wore an ivory satin ballgown that exposed a good bit of her slumped shoulders. Only in private would she allow her true feelings to show.
That old familiar surge of protectiveness flooded through Alec. Wit or no, Lord Exeter would not leave without hearing from him. He pushed the door open and Lottie turned around. Her cheeks were streaked with recently shed tears.
Lord Exeter might encounter his fists as well.
Lottie peered into the dark hallway as she hurriedly wiped her cheeks. “Is someone there?”
If Alec could have captured one perfect image from his entire life, it would have been the moment he stepped into Lottie’s bedroom. No one had ever looked so overjoyed, so relieved to see him. Not before, and certainly not since.
“Surprise,” he said with a smile as he held out his arms.
“Alec!” Lottie sprang up from the bed and ran right to him. “Oh, I’m sogladyou’re here!” She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her face against his chest. Alec hugged her close, not like he had in many years. Not since they were both children. But he hadn’t missed the way Lottie’s perfectly cut gown clung to her figure, or how her elegant coiffure, far more refined than Miss Thorne’s, showcased her delicate, heart-shaped face. She had grown into a beautiful young woman.
“Did the excavation finish early? Uncle Alfred said it wouldn’t end until December.” She pulled back. “Or have you come to tell him about Oxford?”
Lottie was the only one who knew of his secret wish. Her face was so full of fragile hope that Alec had to press his lips together to hold back the grimace. “No, it’s still going on. I could only get away for the night,” he reluctantly admitted. “And I…I haven’t decided about Oxford yet.”
What a coward he was.
“Oh.” She lowered her head, not even bothering to hide her disappointment.
