Page 41 of Is This Real or Just Pretend?

Over the next few days, Lucien slowly recovered in the comfort of the Atkinsons’ home.

Freddie and Mrs. Atkinson stopped by at least twice a day, sometimes with Mr. Atkinson in the evenings, while Mrs. Drummond brought up most of his meals.

At Lucien’s request, she hadn’t told her sister the extent of his injuries so as not to worry his father.

Only that he’d had an accident and was recovering at Park House.

He passed the long hours of the day by picking through the stack of mystery novels Mrs. Atkinson had foisted upon him or playing checkers or cards with Freddie. He had never asked about where she had been the night of his encounter, and she never brought it up herself.

Instead, Freddie now wore her diamond ring with pride and casually mentioned potential spring wedding dates and flower arrangements, all while complaining about Phoebe’s utter lack of interest in planning her wedding in December.

“Thank heavens she has Mother and Will deciding everything for her,” Freddie said. “Otherwise, Phoebe would have to get married in the parlor with flowers from the back garden.”

She then shuddered for comic effect, but that didn’t sound so bad to him. But while Lucien much appreciated the company, there was only one person he truly wished to see.

Alex came by on his second evening there. He had just woken from a long, drug-induced slumber to find a shadowy figure watching over him from the foot of the bed.

“I wrote to Benjamin earlier,” she began without preamble in her usual formal tone. “I said that you have fallen ill and would be indisposed for the time being but reassured him that you are still fully committed to your partnership. I will write him again in a few days.”

Lucien didn’t give a fig about Chisolm and tried to tell her so, but the words came out garbled. As he struggled to focus on her, Alex whispered something before ducking out of the room. It took Lucien’s sluggish mind a few moments for the meaning to sink in:

I’m so sorry.

Freddie tried gently prying a few times, but Lucien didn’t have the will to discuss his situation with anyone other than Alex. He did learn that she was staying close to the house under Inspector Holland’s advice, but otherwise she kept her distance.

Every few hours, Lucien forced himself out of bed and walked around the room. Each day, he was able to walk a little longer. By his fourth day at Park House, he could walk down the hall and back without assistance. By the fifth, he could manage the stairs, though ascending was considerably harder.

“You mustn’t push yourself,” Freddie warned as she accompanied him back to his room. “Don’t think we’re in a hurry to have you leave.”

Lucien sighed and gently rubbed his aching ribs. “I know. But I’m so sick of sitting in bed staring at the wallpaper. I see those French peasants when I close my eyes at night.”

Freddie chuckled. “Yes, the toile is a bit much in that room. I’m surprised Alex put you—” She stopped abruptly as something seemed to dawn on her.

Lucien gave her an inquiring look. “I only meant that usually guests stay in the bedrooms on the floor above. The blue room was our old nanny’s quarters, so it’s closest to Alex’s bedroom. ”

Lucien was silent. He hadn’t known that. This whole time she had been mere steps away, and yet he never saw her.

“I see,” he replied evenly. “I suppose… I suppose it was more convenient to put me in there that night.”

His heart sank as he spoke. Alex wasn’t a sentimental fool like him. She made decisions driven by simple logic. And her continued distance proved that.

Freddie studied him. “We can move you to another room, if—”

“ No .” The word came out far sharper than he intended. “That won’t be necessary,” he added more gently. “I think I need to spend more time out of bed, that’s all.”

“Mmm,” Freddie hummed. “As long as the doctor approves.”

Lucien rolled his eyes. He was damned tired of needing that man’s approval for everything. “It’s fine as long as the pain doesn’t worsen.”

She patted his arm. “I’m sure you know best.”

Lucien let out a dry laugh. He wasn’t sure about anything these days.

On the sixth day, he felt considerably stronger and the swelling on his face had gone. There was still some faint bruising around his eye and jaw, but Lucien thought it made him look rather roguish.

The day passed in the usual manner: He took a turn around the back garden with Mrs. Atkinson, played several rounds of cards with Freddie, and gossiped with Mrs. Drummond over his midday meal. Dr. Mosley had come again and was pleased with Lucien’s progress.

“You’re well enough to return home tomorrow. Though between us fellows, I can tell the lady of the house you need another day or two,” he added with a sly look.

Lucien gave him a puzzled frown. “Pardon?”

“There’s no need to play coy with me, young man.” The doctor chuckled. “When I was your age I’d have done much worse to stay so close to my fiancée. We’ve been married forty-two years now, and I swear it has gone by like that,” he said with a snap of his fingers.

“Congratulations, but I’m not engaged to anyone,” Lucien grumbled.

The last thing he wanted to hear about was this man’s felicitous home life.

Both of Dr. Mosley’s bushy white eyebrows rose considerably. “Oh. My mistake. I just assumed—”

Lucien huffed. He was getting quite tired of people’s assumptions. “Assumed what?”

“I’ve known Miss Alexandra her whole life,” the older man began.

“I’ve seen her through every childhood sickness.

Every injury—though granted she didn’t have many of those,” he digressed until Lucien gave him an exasperated look.

“The point is,” Dr. Mosley continued, “I’ve never, ever seen her as distressed as she was the night they brought you here. ”

Lucien blinked. “Oh.”

“Yes,” the doctor said with a laugh. “ Oh .” Then he rose and put on his hat. “She’s an interesting woman, Alexandra. Isn’t one to suffer fools, I gather.”

“No, she isn’t,” Lucien agreed.

The doctor arched a brow. “Luckily, you don’t strike me as a fool. Try not to prove me wrong,” he said with a wink and left the room.

Lucien let out a sigh and tilted his head back against the pillows. That remained to be seen.

That evening Freddie and her parents went to dine with the Ericsons, ostensibly to discuss wedding plans.

Lucien joined Mrs. Drummond in the servant’s hall for a light supper, then headed back to his room.

As he made his way down the hall, a soft light flickered under Alex’s bedroom door.

Lucien paused, momentarily struck by the urge to knock.

No. If Alex wanted you, she would just come out and say so, he thought morosely.

Lucien shuffled off to his room and settled into a chair to read another one of Mrs. Atkinson’s novels.

But every few sentences, he would glance at the door and wonder if she was still in her room.

Freddie had mentioned they were all taking Inspector Holland’s warning seriously by staying close to home and never going out alone, but then, Alex had never been one for following orders.

Perhaps she had taken the chance to slip away for the night.

Which meant she could be in danger at this very moment.

Really, it was Lucien’s duty to check on her.

He snapped the book shut and stood.

As he stepped into the darkened hall, a golden light spilled out from under her door.

Lucien wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed.

Then irritation won out. He stalked down the hall, or as close to it as his still tender side allowed.

Before he could think twice, Lucien knocked on her door.

He’d had quite enough of this. If she intended to hide from him indefinitely, then she would have to say it to his face.

Lucien began to knock harder as Alex pulled the door open.

“Good heavens! What is it—” She stopped abruptly and stared at him in shock for a moment before her brow furrowed with concern. “Do you need the doctor?”

“Uh…” Lucien replied, distracted. Alex’s hair was down. All of it. He couldn’t stop staring at the mass of dark waves that hung over her shoulders and down her chest.

She was also dressed for bed in a silk wrapper thrown over a white nightgown. Lucien’s gaze wandered lower, where the tips of her toes peeked out from the hem of the gown.

This was a mistake.

“I should go,” he choked out and turned to leave while pressing a hand against his trousers. One glimpse of her and he was already half hard.

A horrible mistake.

“Wait,” she called out, her voice unusually weak. “Please, Lucien.”

That brought him to a stop. He was useless when she begged for him.

This isn’t sexual, you idiot.

Indeed, as Lucien turned around to face her, Alex only looked… guilty.

He cleared his throat and lifted his chin. “Yes, what is it?” He aimed for a cool formality and hoped she didn’t glance below his waist. Alex joined him in the hall, then shyly bit her lip.

Goddammit.

Lucien shifted in place. Why did this woman have such an effect on him? “What is it?” he prompted.

Alex’s eyes widened a little at his sharp tone. “Could we speak for a moment?”

“Fine. Speak, then.”

She glanced around. “In my room?”

Lucien knew he should say no. There was no one upstairs. No reason they needed more privacy. And yet…

His chest tightened. “Certainly.” The word came out like a growl.