More to the point, it was the first time he was invited by the Duchess of Kent to shop for a bride amidst her protégées. Her mother had gotten it into her head that Alexandra should be the one, and despite that she hadn’t had any romantic notions over becoming a queen, she’d felt beautiful that night, dressed in blue-pink shot silk taffeta—until.
She slid Ben a thankless glance, only to discover he was watching her now, one brow raised. So then, was he trying to embarrass her on purpose?
“If memory serves,” continued Merrick. “I recall you to be quite the cheerful young lady. I’m afraid, for personal reasons, that was not my finest moment.” He gave her an apologetic tilt of his head. “At any rate, it is, indeed, a pleasure to see you again, Lady Alexandra—and this time under far more pleasant circumstances. I very much look forward to your good cheer.”
“As do I,” said his wife. “I’m so pleased to meet you, Lady Alexandra.”
Alexandra swallowed. “Yes… well… I, too am thankful for the opportunity.”
And she was.
Truly, she was.
But heaven knew, she hadn’t felt “cheerful” in months and months, and she was beginning to fear she might never again—certainly not with stabs in the back such as the one perpetrated by Ben. Why in the name of love would he say such a thing? Only to needle her?
Lady Morrissey added, “If you’re anything at all like my dearest Claire, something tells me we shall all be fast friends!”
“Claire is wonderful,” agreed Lexie, and she lifted up her fork—not because she was hungry, but imagining herself thrusting it at Ben, and wishing vehemently the evening were already over. With her left hand, she fingered the locket at her breast, taking comfort in Claire’s thoughtful gift.
Except for Ben, everybody was treating her so kindly, their joy over being together more than apparent—so why did she feel so inexorably glum?
Because Ben mattered, she realized. And it seemed to Lexie that he must despise her. The entire evening was proving to be almost as much a disaster as Almacks and it was all she could do to hold back tears as she sat listening to the remainder of the discourse.
Only perhaps to make her feel more comfortable, Claire went on and on about hers and Alexandra’s childhood together—to utter exhaustion, because despite her bright and colorful description of Alexandra, Alexandra didn’t like the way it made her sound: vacuous, insipid, puerile, silly, frivolous and completely irresponsible. Really, how could anyone have any adulation for the girl Claire described?
Oh, yes, she understood Claire meant her account with the kindest of regards, but Lexie was no longer that same foolish chit. And neither did she care to remember how very close she had been with Ben—not when he seemed so perfectly content to toss her beneath a carriage!
Gracious as ever, Claire thanked Alexandra for dragging her out of the house on the night of Prince Merrick’s London reception, mainly because, had she not, Claire might never have married the man of her dreams. Despite that she and Ian met previously, it wasn’t until that reception that she suddenly, unexpectedly found herself engaged to a Prince—or so everyone believed.
(As it turned out, Merrick was not Merrick at all. Prince Merrick was really Ian. And Prince Ian was really Merrick. It was all so confusing!)
Thankfully, Claire left out the one reason they’d gone to the silly ball in the first place—because she had dearly hoped to make Ben jealous.
Sadly, it was true. She had only ever longed for Ben to realize that if he didn’t make some move forthwith, she might be lost to him evermore.
And then, when she was proven to be less than desirable, he was a witness to the entire disaster.
That was the only reason she’d cried—not because Prince Merrick discarded her. There was simply nothing about the Prince that appealed to her, and it was only now, in the comfort of this holiday-inspired home, that she realized he must be more than she’d once supposed. It was quite evident that he loved his wife, and he wasn’t as cold as she’d feared. In fact, he was far, far kinder to her throughout the evening than Ben seemed inclined to be.
She was grateful when the conversation ventured elsewhere, but all the while she quietly drank whilst she listened to Benjamin and Wes discuss their recent collaboration—what it could be Alexandra daren’t ask because it sounded suspiciously as though it were born of the troubles Ben endured with her father—not a topic that would endear her to anyone. So, then, every time her champagne glass was refilled, Alexandra lifted the bubbly to her lips, quaffing the contents.
During the course of the evening she also learned that the abdication of Meridian’s throne was not yet official, that Prince Ian would accept his crown in a ceremony to be held in the province of Meridian one month following his and Claire’s nuptials. As a compromise to the bride and her family, the wedding itself would be held in London, witnessed and blessed by King William.
Alexandra herself might have been wounded over the fact that not only did she not know anything about the extraordinary event, but now she wondered who would be Claire’s maiden of honor… Chloe… Lady Morrissey… God forbid, please not Victoria?
And yet, so much as she would like to take offense over it all, it was really impossible to feel any enmity toward anyone but Ben, because amidst all the things Alexandra learned this evening, she was also discovering how very rude Ben could be—utterly and hopelessly.
Rude.
Indeed, she was only beginning to realize how very fine that line was between love and hate—and, yes, indeed, she had loved Ben… truly, madly and passionately. As passionately as she was beginning to loathe him right now.
Blackguard.
Cad.
Rude, insufferable bore.
She took yet another sip of champagne, her melancholy turning to unmitigated fury.
“Alexandra,” said Chloe, lowering a hand to her belly—a gesture not entirely encouraged in polite society, though it gave a very nice sense that she was caressing her unborn child. “Will you be joining us in Meridian for the coronation?”
“I…”
“Oh, we haven’t discussed that yet,” interrupted Claire. “But I suppose now is as good a time as any.” She turned to address Alexandra, smiling genuinely. “Alexandra, since we are rushing away directly after the ceremony… I dearly hoped you would allow—” She turned her brilliant gaze upon Ben— “My brother to escort you to Meridian.”
Blinking in surprise, both Alexandra and Ben turned to look at each another, their gazes mirroring the same sense of horror. Ben smiled tightly. And then suddenly, their gazes skittered away—Alexandra’s to her plate, and Ben’s to meet his sister’s hopeful gaze. He sighed then, and it sounded as though his entire chest deflated before answering, but he said, “Yes, yes, of course. It would be my pleasure.”
And then he glanced at Alexandra—or at least she felt his regard, and realizing all eyes must be upon them, Alexandra lifted her gaze to meet Ben’s glinting green eyes. She forced a smile. “Yes,” she said. “I, too, would be delighted.” Though her heart beat so ferociously over that lie that she feared the entire company must hear it.
“Wonderful,” said Ben.
“Wonderful,” said Alexandra.