“I made the list,” I blurted. I looked both ways down the corridor before reaching into my stocking to withdraw it.
Alexander’s lips twitched as he took the wrinkled foolscap from me. His gaze flickered over the page. “No kissing, even in parlor games,” he read aloud. His eyes met mine. “Are you determined to take all the enjoyment out of this arrangement?”
I hoped he was jesting, but I could never be certain. Not with him. He continued down the page. When he finished reading, he folded the list and gave it back to me. “I certainly see room for improvement.”
I planted one hand on my hip. “How so?”
“I may require clarification as the days go on. There are some areas that are open to various interpretations.” A slow smile tugged on his mouth, but he corrected the expression.
“Please take it seriously,” I said with a frown.
“I am very serious.” His eyes widened, his mouth firm.
I tucked the list back inside my stocking before straightening my posture. “I don’t believe you. On which points do you disagree?”
He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “I would argue that proximity is necessary if we wish to be convincing.”
My hands began sweating. I wiped them on the sides of my skirts. “Very well.”
“Keeping our acting within the bounds of propriety is also a bit…unclear. Lady Tottenham’s idea of propriety is obviously very different than the world outside of Birch House.”
“Lady Tottenham’s definition of propriety is not what I had in mind.” I clamped my mouth shut when I heard a loud giggle from the adjacent corridor.
Mrs. Pike rounded the corner. She wore a white floral morning dress, her mushroom brown hair pulled tight into a knot atop her head. Miss Octavia and Miss Victoria followed closely behind, revealing the source of the giggling. Both young ladies’ golden curls were perfectly shaped, both sets of identical blue eyes landing solidly on Alexander. Octavia’s neckline was deep, the bright sapphire blue of her gown setting her apart from Victoria, who always dressed in pastels.
I exchanged a glance with Alexander. At first, I wasn’t certain he would begin our ruse, but then I felt the weight of his hand on the small of my back. He applied just enough pressure to usher me forward as he opened the breakfast room door.
My pulse echoed in my ears, a flush already heating my cheeks. I had never been one for public displays of affection—especially when it was part of a ruse. Lady Tottenham had said it herself—the entire party was a game. A pretend romance was only fitting. I squared my shoulders, willing myself to be confident as we stepped into the room. Alexander leaned close to my ear from behind.
“Red looks lovely on you.” His breath brushed my ear, and I chose to ignore the leap my heart took at his words. Was he referring to my dress or my blush? I would stab him with my fork if it was the latter. I tried to focus, but several guests were already looking in our direction. I brought a demure smile to my face. The blush on my cheeks couldn’t be feigned, so I hoped it would add to the performance.
Immediately, Lady Tottenham glanced in our direction. Her mouth hung open, just inches away from her forkful of scrambled eggs. She lowered her hand, lips twisting into a victorious grin.
Alexander’s hand fell away from my back, but it hadn’t gone unnoticed. I cast him one more smile over my shoulder before walking toward the display of food on the sideboard. I felt his gaze on my back as I went, and then he was beside me again. We filled our plates as usual before choosing seats at the round table. He moved his chair closer to mine before sitting down.
I dared to take a look around the room. Miss Morton chewed on a piece of orange, a deep furrow in her brow as she whispered to her cousin. Lord Kirkham’s short neck looked a little longer than usual as he strained to see over Mr. Amesbury.
“Are you hungry?” Alexander asked, his gaze focusing on my face. The admiration in his eyes shocked me. How was he so good at this? I felt like a circus animal with the attention we had drawn as we entered the room.
“Not at all. I ate plenty of food last night.” I had only taken a small portion from the sideboard, but none of it tempted me. I would have been too nervous to eat even if Ihadbeen hungry. Mrs. Pike and the Colborne twins had finished filling their plates and Octavia was leading the way toward our table. She had never looked more determined.
Alexander took a slice of pear from his plate and lifted it toward my mouth. “Try it,” he said in a light voice.
I cast him a warning glance. “What are you doing?” I whispered through gritted teeth.
“Try it.”
“I am not going to eat from your fork,” I hissed.
The pear came closer to my lips, so I finally opened my mouth at the last second. I bit my teeth into the fruit in the least graceful manner possible. Juice dribbled down to the white tablecloth just as Miss Octavia took the seat on Alexander’s other side. Her icy blue eyes shot daggers at me. I nearly choked on the chunk of pear. I forced a giggle out of my throat, my stiff smile directed at Alexander as he ate the other half of the pear. It was all I could do to hide my astonishment.
His idea of propriety must have had no bounds at all.
If his intentions were to shock everyone in the room, he was succeeding.
I wiped at my chin with a serviette.
Octavia’s nose twitched. Her pale brows drew together.
