Wimbole entered the room, a letter perched on his silver tray. “My lord, the reply you instructed me to wait for has arr—”
“Splendid.”
Lucien wiped his fingers on a napkin and took the missive. Flipping it open, he glanced at it, then up at Rose with a smile. For the first time, Alexandra was conscious of a distinct feeling of jealousy running down her spine. She took a deep breath. Next, she’d be baring her claws at poor Rose. For heaven’s sake, Kilcairn kept a list of prospective brides—a list upon which neither she nor Rose appeared. A few weeks ago she’d thought those ladies deserved her pity. Now she wasn’t certain what she thought they deserved.
“Well, my dear,” Lord Kilcairn said, “how about a week from Friday for your party?”
“Oh, Lucien, really?”
“I believe so.”
Rose sprang to her feet and hurried over to kiss him on one cheek. She continued around the table and hugged Alexandra. “I have to go tell Mama!” The girl skipped for the door.
Alexandra would have called her back, but she wasn’t all that displeased to see her go. Besides, the two footmen remained. Hopefully their presence would be enough to encourage Kilcairn to continue behaving. “Someone sent you permission to hold a party?” she asked, gesturing at the letter. “How unusual.”
“No. But before the harpies fly off to spread the news, we all have an appointment.”
“An appointment with whom, pray tell?”
“Prince George. Rose is to be presented this afternoon.”
For a long moment she stared at him. “You’re bamming me.”
Lucien lifted an eyebrow. “Wealth has its privileges.”
“I would say so. But doesn’t Rose have a luncheon invitation for this afternoon? A picnic in Hyde Park with Lord Belton?”
He finished off his coffee. “I’ve already sent over a note to cancel. Robert can thank me for saving him later.”
His affability had apparently fled with Rose, which didn’t leaven Alexandra’s suspicion over his behavior in the least. “Lord Belton might actually like her, you know. You didn’t force him into making the invitation, did you? The way you forced him to dance with me?”
His fine brow furrowed. “Did he tell you that?”
“I am not without deductive abilities, my lord.”
For a moment he gazed at her, then glanced at the two footmen. “Thompkinson, Harold, excuse us for a moment.”
“Lu—” Alexandra began, then stopped her protest as the servants vanished.
“What are you deducing right now?” he asked, rising to close the door behind them.
She sighed to cover her sudden delighted trembling. “That you’re making yet another error in judgment.”
“Come here.”
“I most certainly will not. Open that door before your servants confirm theton’s rumors about me—about us.”
“My servants don’t gossip. Come here, Alexandra.”
“It’s not proper, whether anyone gossips or not.”
Lucien left the door, circling the table and stopping behind her chair. “I’m allowing Rose’s birthday extravaganza,” he said. “How much exemplary behavior do you expect me to exhibit?”
She wanted to lean back toward him, like a bee unable to resist a flower. “You can never overdo exemplary behavior.”
Lucien tilted her chair back and looked down at her with glinting gray eyes. “I beg to differ,” he murmured, and leaned down to kiss her.
If anything, her body’s reaction was more electric now than last night. She wanted to mold herself to him, to wrap herself around him and never let him go. Slipping her hands up to either side of his face, she tangled her fingers through his dark hair.
