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Though it had been easy enough to lie about her marital status, Lottie found inventing an entire honeymoon far more difficult. Yet Mrs. Huntington truly did wish to know every little detail, and asked questions if they weren’t provided, so Lottie spent nearly half an hour recalling her time in Italy, substituting Alec as her travel companion instead of Mrs. Wetherby—though she opted not to give him Mrs. Wetherby’s chronic indigestion.
Just as Lottie began to talk about the village, the door opened and Alec entered the compartment. But his usual aloofness instantly dissolved as he caught sight of their companion. He put on an affable smile and his entire countenance seemed immediately lighter, as if he really was nothing more than a humble history professor. The change was so swift and complete Mrs. Huntington didn’t appear to notice.
“Thismust be your husband. I’ve heard all about you, Mr. Gresham. But your wife neglected to mention how very handsome you are.” Her eyes lingered over his frame in a manner Lottie didn’t much care for.
Having a handsome husband must be a rather tiresome business.
Alec continued smiling politely even in the face of the woman’s ill-mannered stare. “Yes, I’m afraid my wife only married me for my inner beauty,” he quipped. “But I confess that sometimes a man likes to be appreciated for his looks.” His eyes caught Lottie’s and he flashed her a little smirk she couldn’t help returning.
Mrs. Huntington tittered. “And he’sfunny!”
Lottie gave her a tight smile, then addressed Alec: “This is Mrs. Huntington. She wanted a detailed account of our honeymoon itinerary.”
“Of course,” he said smoothly and gave a short bow to the woman. The corner of his mouth lifted again as he took the seat next to Lottie. “How far have you gotten?”
“To the village.”
His gaze warmed. It was just the sort of indulgent look a new husband would give his bride. “Ah. My favorite part.”
And just the sort of thing he would say.
Lottie couldn’t help blushing at the lie.
“It sounds lovely,” Mrs. Huntington interrupted.
Alec was obliged to address the woman. “Yes. It was.”
“Wherever did you hear of it?”
He turned to Lottie. “May I?”
“Please,” she said with a grateful nod. “You tell it so much better than I do.”
He smiled again before turning back to Mrs. Huntington. “My wife’s late parents traveled there on their own honeymoon. I’m not sure if she’s mentioned this yet, but we grew up together.” Then he paused and gave Mrs. Huntington a remorseful look. “I’m sorry, I should have asked this before. Where are you from, madame?”
“Milton Keynes,” she declared, having no idea that he was fishing for information.
“Ah, well, we are from Surrey. Our families’ properties bordered each other, so for many years we spent every holiday together.” Then he looked back at Lottie. “She was my first friend.”
Her throat tightened at the words, and she turned toward the window.
“It was idyllic, really,” he continued before his rapturous audience. “The kind of childhood one dreams of. Our days were filled with all sorts of endless adventures…”
As the fabled Veneto region sped by outside, Lottie listened while Alec wove a story from both truth and lies. Strangely, her heart ached nearly as much from the falsehoods. For how different things might have been for them both if all of it were true.
Mrs. Huntington clasped her hands to her chest. “And then when she came of age, you married!”
“No,” he said swiftly. Lottie turned back to Alec. His expression had darkened. “Not then. My family’s fortunes changed suddenly, for reasons I’d rather not discuss. We were forced to sell our home and move far away.”
Mrs. Huntington sucked in a breath. “But you never forgot her.”
Alec shook his head. “Of course I didn’t.”
Lottie’s eyes began to sting. She didn’t like this game anymore.
Mrs. Huntington leaned forward. “How long was it before you found each other again?”
Alec, the devil, paused before answering. “Five years.”
