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“We’ll see about that,” Lucian says under his breath.
“So, what happened then?” Farrah prompts, eager to find out more. She sits forward and rests her chin in her hands.
Lucian’s gaze smoulders into me, and he smiles. “I spent the weeks and months that followed trying to convince her to let me take her out for dinner. She of course played hard to get—”
I nod along as Lucian speaks, thinking back to all the times I turned him down.
“—until finally she said yes. We enjoyed a meal from my favourite French restaurant in the comfort of her home. Things from there happened incredibly fast, and I guess you could say the rest is history.”
‘Incredibly fast’ is the understatement of the century. But I smile, grateful that Lucian hasn’t deviated too far from the truth. He merely stretched it a little.
Farrah clasps her hand to her chest and sighs exaggeratedly. “That is so romantic.”
“No, little sister,” Lucian says, his eyes burning into me. “It is only the beginning; the romance is yet to come.”
“How did you propose?”
I can feel my eyes widen, but Lucian’s expression remains unchanged. He is taking all of this in stride.
His gaze shifts as he looks past me. I turn around to see one of his maids carrying a platter of sandwiches on a silver tray. A second maid walks closely behind, glasses in one hand and a glass jug filled to the brim in the other. Thinly sliced lemon pieces bob up and down as she lowers the jug onto the wicker table beside the platter of sandwiches.
The maids look identical as they stand side by side as though awaiting further instruction. They are wearing matching black tunics and trousers, and their hair has been pinned back into neat buns.
“Thank you, Flossy and Nancy. You may go. Please, if you see my idiot brother on your travels, tell him his company is required urgently in the gardens.”
“Is there a problem?” Farrah leans forward and pours herself a drink.
“None, little sister. I just think it is incredibly rude of him not to have joined us. Especially seeing as you and Chelsea are here.”
Zoning out of their conversation, I glance at the sandwiches. The crusts have been cut off and they have been cut into perfect triangles. They all have different fillings, from ham to chicken and salad. I hold my hand over my stomach as it rumbles, but it’s not from hunger. Food is the very last thing on my mind. Still feeling queasy from my hangover, I don’t think I could stomach anything.
“Here, allow me,” Lucian says as he reaches for the tray.
“I’m not hungry, but thank you.”
“You must eat. You will need your strength for the charity gala this evening,” Farrah chimes in.
My head snaps around to Lucian. “What charity gala?”
Lucian wraps his arm lazily around my shoulder. “Only the one we’ve been talking about for the past week.” His comment comes over as light-hearted, and Farrah laughs along with him.
I, however, do not laugh. “But I have nothing to wear.”
“Chelsea has only recently moved in,” Lucian explains, before Farrah has time to ask questions. “We were both so excited that I only managed to bring a small selection of clothes from her apartment.” Lucian leans into me. “Don’t worry about your dress. I will sort it.” He takes out his phone from his trouser pocket and begins typing. I side-eye the screen, but the glass is distorted by the glare of the sun. When he has finished, he lifts up and tucks the device back into his pocket.
“Please, you must eat,” Lucian insists.
I manage to eat half of a cucumber sandwich. It’s not something I would usually choose but the scent of the cured ham and mature cheese turns my stomach.
The conversation flows well, and soon the awkwardness I’m feeling begins to evaporate. I tell Farrah about my beauty salon, my sister and my best friend. Farrah seems genuinely interested in everything I have to say.
The sun begins her journey in the sky. Time passes—how much I’m not entirely sure. Our conversation is interrupted when one of the maids comes to inform me that Marvin has arrived and is waiting for me in the master suite.
I frown, but think it wise I don’t ask who Marvin is. “I guess that’s my cue to leave,” I say and get to my feet.
Lucian captures my hand, and I turn. “If you happen to see Malachi, ask him where he’s been and what the bloody hell he’s playing at.”
“I will tell him to join you outside.” My words trail behind me as I hurry to keep up with the young maid. I follow her into the house, up the stairs and toward the master suite.
