Page 20 of Is This Real or Just Pretend?

Alex spent the rest of the evening in a terrible mood while doing her best to stay as far away from Benjamin as possible.

Yet she couldn’t help sneaking surreptitious glances at him every chance she got.

Objectively, she understood that he was attractive, with his dark hair and above-average height.

But there was a sleekness to him now that hadn’t been present when they first met back at Oxford.

Chisolm family tradition dictated that he, the third son of a baronet, enter the church.

But Benjamin developed an interest in the moral sciences, particularly economics.

The baronet had not supported his son’s academic about-face and cut off his already meager allowance.

When Alex met him, he had been a poor student struggling to pay his own way by working as a tutor.

Yet he seemed terribly impressed by her immediately, even when she boldly questioned his worship of Adam Smith:

He insists that the free market works best when fueled by the unrestrained pursuit of self-interest, yet he needed to live with his mother for years in order to finish his masterwork.

Benjamin had paused and raised an eyebrow. I’m afraid I don’t follow you, Miss Atkinson.

Well, I doubt she cooked his food or washed his socks purely out of her own self-interest , Alex had tossed off.

His success was built on the back of someone else’s sacrifice.

Someone who loved him and, arguably, believed in what he was doing.

We can’t all live as Mr. Smith, because someone has to do the washing up.

Alex had fully expected him to dismiss her out of hand, but he only stared at her, while a slow smile took over. That had been the start of it. The connection between them was as undeniable as it was bewildering. But now the qualities that had once drawn her to him seemed snuffed out entirely.

If they were ever there in the first place.

It was an unsettling thought. Alex could allow that she had made a youthful mistake.

But it was far more difficult to accept that she had been entirely taken in by this man whose behavior now read as so obviously false to her, even from across the room.

It was as if he was looking for something to manipulate in every person he spoke to.

Had he always been that way or was this a characteristic born out of necessity?

She couldn’t for the life of her remember.

Nor why she had given him so very much of herself in the first place.

It had been the actions of an entirely different person. A lonely girl away from home and unused to the attentions of men. Alex hated that she had been such a cliché, but there was nothing to be done about it now. She had made her choices and paid a price.

What remained to be seen was what on earth he was doing back in London and at the LaSalles’ salon, of all places. They had an agreement. Granted, it had been five years since then, but the terms had been very clear.

I never want to see you again in any capacity.

Don’t flatter yourself, Alexandra, he bit off. You aren’t the sort of woman men cross oceans for.

She scowled even harder as Benjamin laughed too loudly at something Mr. Wright had said—and he wasn’t very funny.

Perhaps the money had finally run out, or the packet of ideas and letters of introduction she had given him were lost. Well, if that was the case it was not her problem.

Alex had done everything within her reach at the time to send him off with every advantage.

If he hadn’t amassed a sizable fortune by now, that was due to poor planning on his part.

But he could still make demands of you.

A few weeks before, Alex wouldn’t have been the least bit cowed by any possible threats. How quickly things changed.

“Are you all right?” Lucien asked by her side and Alex forced her gaze away from her former suitor.

“Yes,” she said, managing something close to a smile. “Only I’m afraid I’m more tired than I realized.”

“Well, you did spend all day at the office,” he remarked.

It was true enough, but that didn’t excuse her behavior. She didn’t deserve his sympathy, nor his understanding.

“I’m afraid I’m not very good company this evening,” she said instead.

Granted, she was never very good company. She recalled the easy smile on his face earlier when he was in Freddie’s far superior company and a sense of deep, sudden regret bubbled up through her. Oh, what a mess this all was. A remarkably stupid idea born out of her own hubris.

“Let’s get you home, then,” Lucien said gently.

For once, Alex allowed herself to be led, and while Lucien fetched their coats and her father, Marguerite approached.

“Leaving already?”

“Yes, I’m afraid so,” Alex said with a tired smile.

Marguerite leaned in. “There was a miscommunication with my supplier and they sent double the amount this month,” she murmured. “So you may need to store some of the product for a bit. I will send a note tomorrow.”

Alex gave a single nod. “Not a problem.”

Apart from running a weekly salon and publishing economic papers under her husband’s name, Marguerite LaSalle also imported German-made Dutch caps from a contact in France and, with Alex’s support, covertly distributed them to women’s groups across the city, as both access and knowledge of how to use such devices was limited.

Since Mr. LaSalle was entirely unaware of his wife’s activities, Alex occasionally had to store the caps in her room.

“Excellent,” Marguerite said with palpable relief. Then she gave her a conspiratorial smile. “I quite like your Lucien, you know.”

Alex ignored the urge to explain that he did not belong to her. “I thought Benjamin Chisolm was in America.”

Marguerite’s eyebrows rose at the abrupt subject change, but then, that wasn’t much different from how Alex usually spoke. “I believe he returned to London because his father is ill. You know him?”

Alex had to turn away from her friend’s curious gaze. “I’ll explain later,” she said gruffly. The polite thing to do then was express some kind of sympathy, but Alex couldn’t force the words past her lips.

Not for him.

Luckily, Lucien returned then with her father. They all said their good-byes and Marguerite elicited a promise from Alex that she would visit soon with Lucien. Then they stepped into the cool night and Alex released a breath.

“I think that went rather well, don’t you?” her father said once they were all in the carriage.

“Yes, very,” Lucien replied while Alex managed a grunt.

“Who was that dark-haired chap I saw you talking with, my dear?” her father asked after a moment.

Alex snapped her gaze to him, but there was only curiosity in his eyes. Of course he didn’t know, she reasoned. She had been very careful.

“Benjamin Chisolm.” She could feel Lucien’s gaze on her, but she fought against the urge to glance back at him.

“Ah! I’ve heard of him,” her father said. “He was one of the first to invest in the Sheridan project out of New York, no?”

“Yes,” Alex replied tersely. That had been on her recommendation—and her money.

“You could do far worse than partner with him, Lucien,” her father casually remarked while Alex had to fight to keep the grimace from twisting her lips.

“I will consider it,” Lucien answered diplomatically, all while continuing to stare at Alex. She pointedly turned toward the window.

The rest of the drive home was then spent discussing other potential investors and how Lucien could tailor his new business proposal to appeal more directly to them.

Normally Alex lived for this kind of strategizing, but she was too distracted by her own thoughts to offer more than a few passing comments and questions.

He returned to London because his father is ill.

Alex refused believe that. It might have been partly the reason, but something else had to be afoot, as Benjamin was always thinking three steps ahead, and prepared to do whatever it took to get what he wanted.

She stiffened as those old memories threatened to pull her under, but Alex refused to let her personal feelings affect Lucien’s decision.

Benjamin was still a successful entrepreneur and this was business, after all.

If Lucien did decide to partner with him, she wouldn’t stand in his way.

It would be just one more reason to sever their connection once this agreement ended.

“What else do you two have planned?”

Her father’s question roused Alex from her thoughts.

“The theater next week.”

Her father tsked. “That’s too far away. Come to the Turners’ with us on Thursday.”

Alex snorted a laugh. “I am not going to the Turners’.”

Their neighbors hosted a weekly musical evening largely so their eldest daughter, who possessed more confidence than talent, could make a fool of herself in front of an audience. Alex hadn’t gone in years.

Her father looked affronted. “The Turners are delightful!” Then he narrowed his eyes. “And more importantly, Hank Jr. will also be in attendance.”

Alex crossed her arms, feeling very much like a petulant child. But she knew what he was implying. The expectations for a courting couple’s behavior at such an event would be far different than at a salon. And with Hank Jr. there, the stakes were higher.

“Then I suppose Dierdre Turner won’t be the only one putting on a performance,” she groused.

“Yes, well, let us hope you are more of a crowd-pleaser than she is,” her father returned darkly.

Alex’s cheeks heated and she avoided Lucien’s gaze. Luckily, they were nearly home, so at least her embarrassment was short-lived. Father then harangued Lucien into accepting the use of the carriage back to Hackney after they were dropped off.

“You aren’t cross with me, are you, darling?” Father asked as they made their way inside.

Alex instinctively lifted her chin. “What would I have to be cross about? You merely spoke the truth.”

Her father had the decency to look chagrined. “But I could have put it a little better, I suppose. And I do know you are trying your best,” he added gently.

The implication being that it was still far from good enough. Alex’s shoulders slumped as she handed her cloak to the footman.

“Then I suppose I’ll just have to try harder,” she said, unable to mask her weary tone. Her father began to speak, but Alex brushed a kiss on his cheek and bid him good night. Then she turned on her heel and headed upstairs. She had heard quite enough from everyone that evening.