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His plan to sit as far away from Lottie as possible was derailed at the very last minute, no thanks to a bickering couple from Brussels who cut in front of him without so much as a glance.
Madame Noir leaned closer to him. “One can expect nothing less than utter rudeness from the Flemish,” she whispered then clucked her tongue in disapproval.
The only two remaining seats were directly across from Lottie and Mr. Drakos.
Alec held back his grimace and led Madame Noir to their seats. As they approached, she inhaled sharply and held up her fan. “Do you see the man seated on the other side of your cousin?”
Alec glanced over and gave a subtle nod. A late arrival. Alec would have noticed him on the terrace, as he was the only other man under fifty besides himself, but his attire made sure to loudly announce his presence. He was dressed in a purple velvet evening jacket with a matching striped waistcoat. It was the very height of continental fashion—and made him look ridiculous.
“The Honorable Mr. Morley,” Madame Noir explained. “Highlyeligible. I think he is in line for one of your dukedoms,” she added in an awed whisper.
Annoyance prickled through Alec. “Is that so?” The man seemed unbearably obnoxious. Of course he would end up a duke.
She playfully tapped his arm with the tip of her fan. “Don’t try to hide your delight, monsieur. I can see those wheels already turning in your head. There are mamas who would give their right arms to have their own daughters seated next to him at dinner. The poor man spends most of his time abroad to escape them.”
Poor indeed.
Just then, Lottie let out a laugh. Mr. Morley was much too close—why, his lips were practicallybrushingher ear.
“Oh, it has already begun!” Madame Noir said in delight.
He cut another glance across the table as he pulled out Madame Noir’s chair. Mr. Morley was doing the same for Lottie, and she seemed all too delighted by his chivalry. Despite the man’s highly questionable sartorial choices, Alec had to admit he was handsome. Most women seemed to prefer blond-haired and blue-eyed men. His jaw tensed against the flare of jealousy blistering his insides. But he brushed the ugly feeling aside. If this led to a match, Sir Alfred would nominate him for a medal. And this was exactly what he wanted for her. A duke’s heir could give her everything.
Everything you never could.
Alec turned away and took his seat beside Madame Noir, giving her the most charming smile he could muster. Let Lottie enjoy the man’s company. He had work to do.
At first Lottie had been worried by the prospect of sitting next to an Englishman all evening. What if Mr. Morley recognized her or questioned her false identity? But as it turned out, Mr. Morley lived largely abroad—and had few interests beyond himself. Lottie made sure to smile and nod at all the right places, and by the time dessert was served she had said nothing beyond a few generic platitudes.
“How very interesting,” she responded automatically, as the man prattled on between generous mouthfuls of molded ice cream. She blinked slowly. That waistcoat of his was starting to give her a headache.
When she opened her eyes, Mr. Morley was giving her his full attention. And a rather too interested smile. “I say, I can’t remember the last time I had such a charming dinner companion.”
Lottie held back a snort. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Alec look their way after having easily ignored her for the past hour. She swallowed her irritation and smiled at Mr. Morley. “Why thank you, sir.”
She could never manage this degree of pretense in London. Then again, she had never been motivated by petty jealousy before. Luckily, Mr. Morley didn’t notice her act. The gentleman seemed to miss quite a lot.
“So then, where are you off to next, Miss Gresham? Venice is all well and good if you like swamp water, but you reallymustgo to Florence.”
It was the third time he had asked her that question and the second time he had told her to go to Florence, but she managed to keep smiling. “I’m afraid I’m due back in England. But do tell me whatyoulove about the city.” She turned back to her dessert as the man began to prattle on again.
Was this all it took to do Alec’s job? Tell people what they wanted to hear? Give them what they wanted to see? A smile here, a laugh there. Stroke their egos until they were soft and pliant. Until they let their guards down.
It was rather easy. Disturbingly so.
And yet, in a way it was exciting to be a different version of herself. She might have even enjoyed the exercise if it didn’t include watching Alec flirt with a beautiful, sophisticated Frenchwoman.
Who is old enough to be hismother.
Lottie chastised herself for the uncharitable thought. She would be lucky to look half as alluring as Madame Noir, even now. As if on cue, the woman let out another sultry laugh, and Lottie couldn’t stop from glancing over at them. She had thrown her dark head back and clasped a hand against her enviable décolletage. Alec grinned down at her, as if she was the most charming woman he had ever met.
Lottie’s chest pinched. Was hereallythat good? Or was it not an act at all?
She couldn’t decide which would be worse.
“Miss Gresham, are you well?” asked a soft voice beside her.
Lottie turned to Mr. Drakos, who gestured to her spoon. It had begun to tremble in her tight grip. “Thank you. Yes, I’m fine,” she murmured and set down her spoon. Lottie gave him a gracious smile as guilt swept through her. She had mostly ignored the kind man all through dinner because he hadn’t suited her purposes, and because one could listen to the finer details of olive harvesting for only so long. An unsettling shiver moved through her. Perhaps this wasn’t so easy.
