Page 2 of Is This Real or Just Pretend?

He raised his brows in surprise. “What makes you think that?”

She cast a quick but appraising glance over him. “Your shoes. They were made in Paris. I’d say… three seasons ago.”

Lucien didn’t know anything about seasons as it applied to shoes. Only that he had purchased them at one of the city’s famous outdoor markets. “Impressive.”

Freddie shrugged. “The intricacies of fashion occupy a rather large part of my life.”

Lucien sensed that there was more behind that little quip, but before he could ask, Freddie continued.

“So, you came here from Paris.”

“I never said I did.”

“No.” Freddie grinned. “But you haven’t denied it either. You came here from Paris,” she began again. “But it was merely the last leg of a journey that originated in the Far East.”

Lucien could only laugh at the yarn she was spinning. “And how exactly did I end up there?”

“You ran away from home as a boy to Portsmouth and stowed away on a ship,” she went on, her dark eyes glittering with purpose.

“Only you did not realize its destination was Hong Kong. By the time you were discovered, it was too late. Luckily, you were a natural ship hand, so they decided not throw you overboard…”

As Freddie continued to wax on about all the exotic ports he supposedly had visited, Lucien’s smile began to fade.

Moments before he had felt so worldly and sophisticated, as close to her equal as he had ever been.

But now, with just a few sentences, the gap between who he was and who he wished to be had been pushed out of reach once more.

After Freddie decided that he had settled in Bombay for a spell, Lucien cleared his throat. “That is quite the adventure I’ve had.”

“It is, isn’t it?” she answered cheerily.

The carriage slowed as she turned onto the long drive that led to the limestone Georgian manor house. It was just visible through the trees and for one aching moment Lucien could imagine they were a couple returning home after a trip away.

“And why have I come back now?”

Freddie quietly considered the question while Lucien held his breath and wondered what dazzling reason she would come up with.

“For the only reason men cross oceans and continents,” she softly replied.

“Which is?” he prompted as she fell silent once again. They were nearly at the carriage house now. His little charade couldn’t last much longer.

She tugged on the reins and the gig slowly rocked to a stop. Then she turned and met his gaze with a directness that tore through him like an arrow. “Love.”

Lucien didn’t know how long they sat there, staring at each other. Then he leaned in, just a little bit, until her delicate floral scent filled his nose and her petal pink lips parted.

“That is—”

“ Where have you been?” A sharp voice laced with disapproval shattered their little reverie. “Mother has been searching high and low for you.”

They both slowly blinked, as if waking from a dream. Freddie looked at someone over his shoulder and rolled her eyes.

“The village. I wasn’t gone more than an hour.”

“Try two,” the speaker countered.

“Here,” Freddie said as she leaned past him and held out a small pink package. “I got Mother those sweets she likes. Keep it safe for me while I go find her.”

Lucien turned around to face the speaker and suddenly he was ten years old again, with the imperious Alexandra Atkinson staring at him with her usual look of disapproval.

He had spent most of his childhood absolutely terrified of her and, like most of the staff, tried to avoid her whenever possible.

Her dark brown eyes narrowed slightly. “Hello, Lucien,” she said in the same brusque tone she used with everyone. “How was your journey?”

Freddie made some sort of choking sound beside him, but Lucien continued to hold Alex’s cool gaze as he smoothly took the package and jumped down from the gig.

Though the sisters shared the same dark brown curls and matching eyes, Alex was tall and slim compared to Freddie’s curves.

She also wore a sober navy suit and matching skirt, like something a severe headmistress would wear, and which was a stark contrast to her sister’s frothy peach confection.

Alex had always felt larger than life and so very grown-up, even though she was only about five years his senior.

Now Lucien was surprised to find that she was, in fact, a bit shorter than him, though still tall for a woman.

It was her bearing, he decided. The way she stalked around the house like the captain of a ship, all while never cracking a smile.

“It was fine,” he replied, matching her disinterested tone.

She was just so very different from the easygoing Freddie and their other sister, Phoebe, with her approachable eccentricity. It bothered him now for a reason he couldn’t quite identify.

As Lucien handed the confectionary box to her, their fingers brushed ever so briefly and the sensation flickered through him. He had to fight against the sudden urge to pull his hand back, as if merely touching Alex was verboten. She was only a woman, he needlessly reminded himself. Not a queen.

Nor a dictator.

While they each continued to silently size the other up, Freddie found her voice.

“You… you can’t mean little Lucien Taylor?”

Lucien couldn’t help but wince at the description and then was annoyed because Alex noticed. Before her eyes could soften with pity, he quickly turned back to Freddie with an apologetic smile. “I’m afraid so,” he said, offering his hand.

She stared at him in disbelief. “My goodness.”

As he helped Freddie down, he enjoyed the feel of her warm, small hand in his, while also vaguely noting the absence of the spark he had felt moments before. Perhaps Alex was a witch.

It would certainly explain a few things.

“Thank you,” Freddie breathed, still staring at him in wonder.

Lucien basked in her appreciative gaze for another moment as he slowly released her hand. “My pleasure.”

Then she hesitated. “And I shall see you tonight, then?”

Lucien’s breath hitched. She still wanted him there. Even though he was only little Lucien Taylor. The son of the help. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

“I believe your father is waiting for you in his quarters,” Alex cut in with barely veiled impatience. “Shall I show you the way?”

Lucien’s jaw tightened as he released Freddie’s hand and shot Alex a glance. She made no attempt to hide her disapproval, which bothered him more than he wanted to admit.

“No need, Miss Atkinson,” he replied crisply. “I could never forget my place here.”

Lucien didn’t wait for her reply as he adjusted his satchel and headed toward the carriage house. Back to where he belonged.