He smiled at me. “I believe Miss Clara is perfect as she is.”
Warmth gathered in my cheeks, and I lowered my gaze.
“And what should you say to that, Clara?” Aunt Maude asked with all seriousness.
I was speechless.
“He just flirted with you,” she said, nodding for me to respond. “How do you flirt back?”
Of course. I felt foolish.
I forced my gaze to return to Alec’s.
If I was going to succeed and help Aunt Maude and Alec, then I would have to play the game. I had watched my cousin Fiona flirt with her husband during their courtship and knew enoughto get by—though, with the stakes so much higher, it would be a different level of flirting than Fiona’s.
Especially when they were men so high above my station. Anxiety overwhelmed me—but all I had to do was think about returning to Mulberry Street and I found the courage I needed.
“You’re too kind, Mr. Paxton-Hill.”
“Well,” Aunt Maude said, a little disappointed. “It’s not impressive, but it’s a start. And remember to curb your accent, Clara. Emulate the sound of our voices and practice every chance you get. Now, be off on your tour and if you run into any of the staff and are forced to interact, let Alec speak for you.”
Alec stood and offered me his hand, a teasing gleam lighting his eyes. “Are you ready to be dazzled by my brilliant personality?”
Was he flirting again? I had no idea how to respond, so I simply smiled and allowed him to help me stand.
He took my hand and slipped it into the crook of his elbow as he led me out of Aunt Maude’s room.
Flirting might be the hardest lesson of all.
5
“Where shall we begin?” Alec asked in a playfully serious voice. “Flirting should come easily, as Aunt Maude suggested. It should be the natural result of conversation between two people who find each other desirable. It’s meant to attract—without becoming too intense.”
My cheeks were so hot, I was afraid they would give away my embarrassment. I found him very attractive—but there was nothing natural about what I was doing right now.
“Are you uncomfortable on my arm, Keira?” he asked me, easing away.
I nodded—and then shook my head—and then nodded again.
Alec laughed, but his eyes were thoughtful. “You are quite charming with your bright pink cheeks.”
Was he flirting again? Or was he being sincere?
“If I make you uncomfortable, please tell me.” He grew serious. “I never want you to feel uncomfortable with me.”
I kept my arm in his and he walked me around the gallery, past all the pictures that had stared down at me the day before.
“Flirting should be interspersed through general conversation,” he said next. “So, what shall we talk about?”
“The house?” I asked.
“Yes, of course.” He smiled. “I had almost forgotten we were taking a tour.”
He didn’t sound at all like he was unhappy giving me his time and attention. Was he just pretending, for my benefit?
“My aunt and uncle built this home three years ago,” he said. “Before that, they lived on Madison Avenue, but Aunt Maude wanted a better position in society—as you’ve come to realize—and she had this home built. It is one of the most expensive houses in New York City. Most of the rooms were imported from Europe, as were most of the furnishings. From palaces, castles, and chateaus. There might be more royal furniture in this home than in Versailles.”
He chuckled and I smiled, but I could not comprehend such wealth.
