When the handsome, wealthy, and seemingly cold-hearted Max Evans visits rural England, Alex does not expect to be the centre of his attention. Accustomed to the compliments to his beauty, Alex has stopped expecting anyone to love who he is on the inside, or indeed, to find anything worth loving at all... until Max Evans plainly insults his appearance and Alex realizes the man is different than most.
Max does not expect to care for anyone in such a small town, and yet the moment his eyes meet those of a handsome stranger in a ballroom, he is lost. Try as he might, he cannot fight the growing attraction he feels for Alex Manes, or the heart Alex wears on his sleeve.
When pride consumes one and prejudice blinds the other, can these two men find their way to each other and fulfill their true hearts' desire?
It was a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.
As it was universally acknowledged that the Manes family had been deprived of a woman since the youngest and most handsome of its sons was only twelve years old.
That, in no way, deterred the patriarch, however, Jesse Manes, from insisting that his boys were to make suitable marriages.
Whether to a duchess or an otherwise lady of the court, a duke or a prince, Jesse prided himself on his ability to sniff out a suitor’s wealth like a hound on the trail of a particularly slippery fox. And his captures were always and without fail followed with a hope – or more a hungry ambition – of marriage.
The previously mentioned youngest and most handsome of his sons, Alex, however, was never the one chosen, and hardly to his own disappointment. “Your father will be home soon,” Alex’s dearest friend, Kyle, warned, his dark eyes falling surreptitiously to the grass stains on the knees of Alex’s trousers. “You should really go change before he’s seen you’ve completely ruined your party clothes.”
Alex ignored him in favour of picking another daisy with a tall stem to sew into his flower crown, the tip of his tongue sticking into the corner of his lips as he concentrated.
“My father hardly notices the colour of my eyes,” Alex murmured distractedly, and did not speak again until he had successfully knotted the thin and curly stem amongst the others. Satisfied, he looked for another flower. “I promise you he will not notice my trousers. And at any rate, I will be changing before we leave.”
“You always say that,” said Kyle, exasperated, “and then you wait until the last possible second to run out the door and have barely the time to barrel into the carriage!”
Alex blinked, finally looking up. “Don’t be ridiculous. A gentleman doesn’t barrel into anything.”
Kyle sighed, shaking his head as he watched Alex return to work. His silence lasted all but one minute and then he leaned forward on his blanket which he’d laid out, having not wanted to risk staining his own clothes.
“I don’t like the way he talks to you,” he quietly confessed. “The way he looks at you. Like he expects nothing. Doesn’t it bother you?”
Alex’s hands stilled only momentarily on his flower crown before he sniffed and returned to work.
Of course it bothered him. To say that it didn’t would be a painfully obvious lie. But there were secrets he didn’t tell Kyle, confessions that he had made in the quiet hours of the night that he still couldn’t bring himself to talk about, for they were more painful than any falsity to leave his lips.
Even amongst the flowers in the wild gardens, now, in the setting sun, as the world turned to gold and other bright, vibrant colours around them, the words would not move past his throat.
So Alex did the only thing he could and raised a brow at his friend. The amusement in his voice long-since practiced and mastered. “Please, Kyle, don’t tell me this concern is actually fuelled by another poor attempt to partner me with a friend from your hospital? I’ve already told you, I don’t fancy any of your colleagues, posh as they are.”
Kyle’s shoulders slumped. “You’re completely hopeless, aren’t you? One day I’m going to be married with a beautiful child and you’re going to be talking to ladybirds and eating apples whole, you are.”
Alex grinned. “Could I live in your doubtlessly massive garden?”
“I’ll set the dogs on you.”
“I expect I’d charm them within the day.”
A door was heard to be opened and closed somewhere inside the large manor behind them, and Alex looked over Kyle’s shoulder at the still walls, half-expecting them to tremble at the heavy footfalls stomping through the corridors. Alex imagined servants rushing about, he heard the voice of one of his brothers speaking pompously and his father’s low but urgent responses. The sun was setting lower, the moon already half-apparent and eager to start the festivities early.
Somewhere inside, Jesse called for his youngest.
Kyle turned back to Alex, panic brief but evident in his dark eyes. “Alex,” he pleaded.
Alex sighed, despising the heavy hammers of his heart and how his hands had stopped tugging at the flower crown completely. He only nodded, gathered his crown in one hand, and snatched his small, leather-bound storybook out of the tall nestle of blades that had curled protectively around it.
There was a party to go to tonight, and the Manes men would be expected to be there. Jesse had insisted they appear their best, though he hadn’t said why. Alex had learned to stop asking long ago, and to stop caring even longer.
“Right then,” he said, walking on ahead of Kyle and forcing himself to sound braver than he felt. “Let’s see what my dear old father wants.”
Approaching Jesse Manes in the midst of ball preparations was much like approaching a river of violent waves. One misstep and you were swept out to dangerous waters.
Alex leaned against the doorframe with his book to his chest, watching as his father and brothers rushed back and forth through the halls, pulling on tweed coats and pulling out flowers from their chest pockets and looking for one another’s boots.
Kyle slipped past him, unnoticed, towards the staircase that led to the second floor of the manor and nudged with his chin at Alex at follow.
“Why don’t you ever get so excited about balls?” Kyle asked once he’d closed the door to Alex’s bedroom behind them.
“I’m plenty excited when I’m there,” said Alex defensively, tugging off his coat. “It’s the getting ready that bothers me. Such a fuss for clothes you’re bound to sweat through by the end of the night.”
“You’re not meant to sweat through your clothes,” Kyle scorned, already rummaging through Alex’s closet for a spare pair of trousers. “Just as you’re not meant to spend the night dancing and ignoring any prospective suitors.”
“I don’t need a suitor,” Alex argued languidly, lying on his back with an arm folded under his head. “I’ll take a lover in the dark of the night, with whom I have intimately romantic trysts and then we depart by the first rays of dawn.”
Kyle slapped the side of his head. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he snapped. “Now get up and change before your father sees what you’ve done.”
Alex rubbed his head as he sat up, glaring. “If being here tires your nerves so badly, why do you insist on coming over mere hours before a ball? You know what it’s like!”
“I’m here because I know what it’s like,” Kyle argued, and sighed at the minute silence that followed.
Alex knew he shouldn’t have asked. He knew why Kyle came, though he refused to acknowledge it aloud. He remembered a year ago when the Duke of Devon had held a grand ball for his daughter. Alex had made the mistake of running into his father’s path, and an event did nothing to deter Jesse’s fists.
“This is an important night for your brothers,” he had warned as Alex clutched his side and stared at the ground from where he was crouched. “Do not disturb them. How much longer must I bear such a disappointment for a son?”
Alex shut his eyes against the memory now while Kyle busied himself with tucking away his discarded clothes. He hadn’t been able to hide the pain in his ribs that night from Kyle, and as soon as his friend had discovered that he’d been harmed at all, he’d quietly insisted on being in the house when Jesse was at his most anxious.
When Alex had finally changed and he and Kyle returned downstairs, it was to Jesse fixing Flint’s shirt collar.
“Keep your shoulders straight,” Jesse murmured, brushing invisible dust off his sleeve. He looked over his shoulder at Alex and Kyle, and scowled. “Alex, put that ridiculous book away, you’re not going to read.”
“Yes, father,” Alex said, tucking the book beside the flower vase on the entrance hall table. As he left it, he felt a weight sink heavier on his heart. He rubbed his face, and tried to think instead of the dancing, the food, the many people in fancy dresses that would be twirling around him, helping him disappear from his father’s side in the blink of an eye, for just one night.
As he looked up, Gregory came rushing up to him. He held two cravats, one a bright yellow, the other a deep green. “What d’you think? Which one?”
“You’d look lovely in both,” Alex told him.
“Yellow,” said Kyle. “Brightens your eyes.”
“Thanks,” said Gregory, starting to turn, when he caught Alex’s book by the vase and paused. He looked at Alex as though actually seeing him for the first time. “You know,” he started to smirk, “I heard a newcomer is making a presence tonight.”
Alex raised a brow, but Kyle straightened. “So the rumours are true?”
“Yes, I think so,” said Gregory. “Everyone in town’s been readying themselves for weeks, even Lady Birch was at the tailor’s yesterday, making last-minute adjustments to her dress.” He winked at Alex. “I think once he sees Alex though, all bets are off.”
Alex frowned. “Once who sees me?”
“Yes,” said Kyle proudly. “I think he’ll be absolutely smitten!”
“Mind you, I can hardly believe it,” Gregory said, “to think that he’s actually coming back to England.”
Alex was already very annoyed. “WHO’S COMING BACK?”
Alex flinched and whirled around, his father storming up to him. “I’m sorry,” the words left him automatically and he took a step back just as Gregory took a step forward.
“Keep your voice down!” he snapped. “A gentleman does not SHOUT!”
“We were just teasing him about the Evans’ visit,” said Gregory calmly, even as Jesse attempted to glare at Alex over Gregory’s tall shoulders. “He didn’t know they were coming.”
Alex heard the intentional lightness of his voice, the way he tried to steer Jesse’s attention elsewhere.
Before Jesse could argue, Gregory held up the cravats again and asked which would look better.
Jesse advised on the green, so Gregory chose the yellow, but he didn’t walk away.
“This night has to go perfectly,” Jesse told them each, his narrowed eyes lingering on Alex. “Perfectly, do you understand? You only get one chance to make an impression with the Evans family, one, and they are too highly-regarded to linger once they’ve decided you’re not worth their time. Do you hear what I’m telling you, Alex?”
He pointed a finger at his son. “Do not ruin your brothers’ prospects.”
I wouldn’t, Alex almost said, thought better of it, and only silently nodded, his eyes downcast. Alex loved his brothers, he knew how badly they wanted to find proper marriages. All except Gregory, who he knew would prefer to find love over wealth.
They were soon dressed and in the carriage, Jesse fixing his sons suits as they went and warning Alex to stay out of the way. Going over potential topics of conversations with Flint and warning Alex to stay out of the way. Telling Clay to use some of the more interesting news he’d learned from his time at the printing press – and warning Alex to stay out of the way.
“I don’t understand why he talks to you like that,” grumbled Kyle. “You’re easily the most beautiful of all your brothers, if he only stopped pushing you into the shadows, you’d have been married a long time ago.”
“Goodness,” Alex grinned, “how constricting.”
“Mock all you want,” he muttered as they climbed the marble steps to the entrance of the large manor behind Jesse and Alex’s brothers, “but no one reads so many romance novels as you do without longing for some of it.”
Alex’s eyes widened in awe and the weight in his chest faded immeasurably. “I see you still fail to recognize, Kyle,” he said almost breathlessly, “that there is more to romance than marriage.”
For right then, the two had walked into the midst of a beautiful ballroom carved with gold. White-lace curtains fluttered in the breeze coming in through gilded terraces, the ceiling was painted with pale landscapes of early mornings and clouds and fields, the patrons all wore white and pink and blue dresses with gold and silver in their hair and on their fingers. Violin music and laughter and chatter and clinking glasses filled the air, and at once, though Alex could find him if he tried, he was separated from his father, free to disappear into the crowd and for the rest of the night as he so often longed to do.
He took Kyle’s hand and, laughing, pulled him through the throng of people, half of which were already dancing in the centre of the room with their partners. They came across Michelle, Kyle’s mother, and Alex kissed her hand and let her pinch his cheeks.
“What took you two so long?” she demanded, hooking her arms through each of theirs. “I thought you’d miss the Evans’ entrance!”
“Who’re the Evans?” asked Alex, having already heard far too much about a family of which he knew nothing for one night.
“A very prominent family in London!” said Michelle, aghast, as though she’d expected Alex to already know, as everyone else so clearly did. “Their eldest makes more than fifty-thousand pounds a year! They’d been abroad in France for the better part of this past year, but their carriage was spotted returning just this week!”
“D’you know for certain if they’re coming tonight?” Kyle asked.
“Who wouldn’t want to?” said Alex. “Especially after a long trip cooped up in a carriage!”
Michelle was still craning her neck to see over the heads of the excited townspeople who were also looking to the doors. “Oh I do hope they’re nice!”
I hope so, too, Alex thought, but didn’t say.
For the next hour or two, it started to seem that the Evans would not be coming at all, though Alex had very quickly after his conversation with Michelle forgotten all about them, instead preoccupied with dancing across the floor with Kyle and other very nice, very handsome gentlemen. The food was exquisite and the music transforming that when it very suddenly halted and the joyous laughs and chatter had faded to excited whispers, Alex couldn’t think to imagine why.
“They’re here!” Kyle rushed at him through the crowd, grabbed his wrist, and pulled him along to the archway where they could get a better look. “The Evans are here!”
Alex could’ve easily gathered that from the eager whispers around them.
“Did you see him? Did you see him?”
“Oh, he’s so handsome! Think he’ll ask me to dance tonight?”
Alex had to admit that the excitement had caught him as well, with all the speculations and gossip around the Evans family, especially this him they all referred to. Then he spotted a dark head enter and silence fell like a heavy blanket over the ballroom.
The crowd swept aside as the Evans family passed. Alex felt Kyle’s nails dig into his arm, the whispers died, and at once, the line beside Alex started to curtsey and bow.
And he saw them. To the left, a woman with dark skin and beautiful red silk passed, her red lips curved in a smirk like a queen who knew that she was the most powerful in any room. To the right, a blonde woman with a cream-coloured dress smiled eagerly at everyone around her, even waving to a few like they were long-separated friends. As she neared, Alex heard Gregory on his other side gasp, but his own attention was lost.
Because between the women, the most handsome man Alex had ever seen walked past. He had black hair that turned chestnut under the candlelight, faint stubble over his lip and on his jaw, his shoulders were wide, his toned arms evident even through his dark coat, and his dark eyes stared straight ahead, completely ignoring the many loving eyes on him.
Until they slid to Alex, as though knowing Alex was there, and they lingered. It must’ve been only a second, for that was how long it took for Alex to bow and for the stranger to pass – but it felt like an eternity. His eyes hadn’t just flitted past Alex’s, but stared straight through him, and Alex’s breath caught in his throat. He maintained eye contact with the stranger, not because he wanted to (nor did he not want it), but because he was incapable of looking away.
Then the stranger passed, and it was over. Alex straightened again, and was sure Gregory was whispering something in his ear, but Alex’s held breath was escaping him in a giggle. He didn’t know why, nor did he dislike it.
Silly me, he thought. He’s only a handsome man. A handsome man who had looked at Alex as he’d looked at no one else. For once, Alex thought privately, he was quite glad that others considered him the most beautiful of his brothers.
Not too long into the night, Gregory appeared out of the throng and took Alex’s arm with both hands. He said nothing, but he seemed unable to stop smiling and his cheeks were pink. He kept looking over their shoulders eagerly, as though looking for someone.
“Yes?” Alex asked, smiling.
“You saw her, didn’t you?” said Kyle knowingly.
“Her name’s Isobel,” Gregory said, then cleared her throat. “Not that I was asking for her name, a few ladies just happened to mention it and I accidentally overheard.”
“She was very pretty,” Alex agreed, raising a brow and unable to help his smile from widening. He’d never seen Gregory blush over anyone.
“They all were,” Kyle sighed dreamily. Then – “Did you see the way Max Evans looked at Alex?”
It took Alex half a second to realize that Max was that stranger’s name. He mouthed it once, realized Gregory and Kyle were both looking at him, and shook his head, blushing.
“Don’t be ridiculous!” he said to their indulgent laughter. “He was probably looking over my head, he’s so tall!”
“He was looking right at you!”
“It’s hardly a surprise, is it?” Gregory said happily, hugging Alex’s shoulders. “Who wouldn’t fall in love with Alex just at the sight of him?”
“You’re one to talk!” Alex said, unable to explain why the thought of Max Evans falling in love with him made him want to laugh himself.
In fact, his smile was so eager that it was only two hours later as he and Kyle rested against a wall to catch their breath that it started to dim at all. He hadn’t expected it to, especially not as they heard a deep voice just around the archway where they leaned.
“You’ve gone red, Isobel,” a voice they quickly discerned to be Max Evans’s said. Alex quietly took note of the flutters his heart gave at the sound of it. It was so deep. “You should have some water.”
“Oh yes, yes, thank you,” Isobel giggled. “I can’t help it. Did you see the man I was dancing with? His name’s Gregory, Gregory Manes, isn’t that such a wonderful name?”
Her voice was so enthusiastic, so warm and kind and genuine, that Alex felt himself smiling happily, him and Kyle clinging to each other with bated breath. He couldn’t wait to tell Gregory all about –
“Yes, well, he certainly is the only man I’d approve of in here,” Max said. “Seems kind enough.”
“If you like those soft sort,” another woman scoffed, and Alex imagined her to be the same dark-skinned one he had seen earlier.
“Maria,” Isobel scolded, “what shame is there in being soft? He’s kind and empathetic, and I quite like that!”
Alex and Kyle shared a triumphant smile.
Maria hummed, clearly doubtful. “He’s better than his brothers, I’ll give him that.”
“We haven’t even spoken to them!” Isobel argued. “We can’t judge their characters yet! Gregory, for one, seemed very proud of his youngest brother, and I saw him, too! Alex, I believe his name was! He’s very beautiful, isn’t he, Max? I saw you watching him across the room when he wasn’t looking!”
Kyle’s grip was painful now, but Alex was glad for it, if only to keep his body on the ground and his mind focused on the next words.
“Isobel,” Maria chuckled, “you’re mistaken, my dear. Max was only surveying the room, weren’t you, Max? I suppose that’s the only way you’ll ever dance, is through others, as you hate the act of actually doing it so much yourself.”
“I did see him,” Max confessed, and Alex couldn’t help but lean close to the wall to listen. He didn’t know why it mattered so much to him to know what Max thought of him, as he’d never cared what anyone thought of him before, but that didn’t stop his brain from urging him to pay close attention.
“I admit,” Max went on, “I was curious as others kept pointing him out to me, the supposedly most handsome of all the Manes men.”
“And your verdict?” Maria said, sounding almost bored.
“To be quite honest,” Max sighed, “I found him barely tolerable. I really don’t understand what all the fawning is for.”
Alex turned away, no longer listening. His smile had finally dimmed.
Kyle’s eyes were wide at the wall, as though trying to glare through to Max. He finally huffed, yanked Alex away, and snapped, “That git! Is he blind? No one’s more beautiful than you in all of England! In all of Europe, in fact! Clearly he’s nowhere near as clever as his sister! I didn’t much fancy that Maria woman either! Is this what happens when you travel to France? You lose all good taste?! I suppose to be cultured is to be without any common sense! Well, no thank you, I’d rather not lose my eyesight!”
Alex huffed a chuckle that he didn’t quite feel in his chest. Kyle’s indignation on his behalf was quite amusing. “Goodness,” he sighed, “am I really so self-absorbed? Finally a man says that I’m ordinary-looking, and I have the nerve to be offended. It’s a bit ridiculous, isn’t it?”
“Alex,” Kyle took his shoulders. “He’s mad, you must see that, don’t you?”
“Mad to find me unattractive?” Alex grinned. “No, perhaps not. But he’s very rude, isn’t he?” He straightened. “Yes, I quite think he is. I wouldn’t gossip about someone’s appearance! As though I would want to be with someone so arrogant anyhow. The day I accept his offer to dance is the day my father’s beatings have finally affected my brain.”
“Alex!” Kyle frowned. “That’s not funny! Don’t joke about that! I have a right mind to steal you away from that terrible man, if only you would be willing to go!”
Alex kissed Kyle’s cheek and pulled him in. “I’m much too heavy to kidnap, my darling, you’d hurt your back. Now dance with me, won’t you? Let’s forget all about the Evans family.”
Max may not have considered the Manes worth approaching, but Isobel seemed to prefer no one else’s company but Gregory’s. More than once, Alex spotted her and Gregory smiling at one another as they twirled while other men and women watched on with envy. Isobel had even twirled right into Alex’s arms a few times, and studied his face with apparent awe.
“You really are beautiful, you know,” she said. “I hope I’m not being too forward!”
She sounded so sincere and Alex was grateful for her kindness, but at the moment, especially after what he’d heard her brother say, he was not eager to talk of his beauty. It felt too much, now more than it had ever been, like nothing more than a consolation for all of Alex’s faults.
You’re broken and unwanted, but you’re beautiful, and isn’t that enough? It has to be enough, for you have nothing else.
“Not nearly as beautiful as you,” he said, laughing with her as they twirled. “Have you met my brother Gregory?”
Isobel blushed at the mention of his name and looked over her shoulder at where he was dancing with Michelle. Alex unintentionally caught Max’s eyes as they danced, unable to help it as he realized Max was staring directly at him. He swallowed, reminded of the insult of his words, and looked away.
To some, he supposed, he was not even beautiful. It was very unenjoyable, to know that one was absolutely nothing to a person, though not unusual for him.
“You’ve met my brother, I see,” Isobel said with a knowing smile. “Mind you, I’m related by blood to Maria, not Max, but even I know how frightening he can seem.”
“You’re not really siblings?” Alex blinked, surprised.
“No,” Isobel shook her head. “We are in the sense that we grew up together and that I trust him beyond anyone else. His mother raised me as her own after my own passed, for they were the dearest of friends, but no. Yet I know what others think of him, and I’m telling you, he really is much kinder and warmer than he appears.”
“If you say so,” Alex said with a shrug, and spun Isobel so fast that her laughter doubled.
Then someone caught his arm and Alex was suddenly yanked backward and away from Isobel. She looked as startled as he was, but as he looked up and caught his father’s face – there as though Alex’s thoughts had summoned him – everything made sense.
“Terribly sorry for my son’s intrusions,” Jesse told Isobel with a bow of his head.
“Intrusions?” Isobel looked from Alex to Jesse, and started to reach for him again. “I was dancing with him, actually, sir. Are you his father?”
“Jesse Manes, madam,” he bowed his head again. He looked calm and calculating, but his grip was beginning to hurt Alex’s arm. Alex tried subtly twisting his arm away, but Jesse held tight. “I saw that you were enjoying your evening with one of my eldest – Gregory. That was, before Alex so rudely interrupted.”
“I didn’t –” Alex tried, but Jesse’s grip on his arm tightened. A silent warning.
Isobel frowned, and looked up at the dais to the front of the room, where her brother stood looking intently somewhere over their heads, clearly uninterested.
“Sir,” she said, smiling politely but her brows still furrowed. “If you please, I wish to continue the dance with –”
“Yes, my son Gregory,” Jesse nodded, already walking backwards and pulling Alex along with him. “Excellent choice, madam. Or perhaps one of my other sons. I will relieve you of my youngest’s presence, I’m certain he’s bothered you enough.”
“I –” Isobel tried again, but her voice was already swallowed up by the crowd as Jesse pulled him further through the groups of people.
Alex knew better than to speak and risk his father’s wrath in the middle of a ballroom, and only when his father all but threw him into the quiet entrance hall, the only light the pale gold of the sconces on either side of the front doors, did he dare say a word.
“Well done, father,” Alex sighed and proud for keeping his voice steadier than he felt. He patted down his coat, seemingly nothing more than slightly inconvenienced. “They’ll never think anything’s wrong now. You outright frightened the poor woman out of her –”
“What were you thinking?” Jesse demanded in that quiet whisper that Alex had always feared more than his shouting. “That is a prospective wife to your brother, and you take her time from him? Are you trying to ruin his future?”
Alex refrained rolling his eyes. “Father, we were both dancing with her.”
Jesse narrowed his eyes. “So now you’re competing with Gregory? Is that it? A few fanciful gazes and you think you can steal a prize from your own brother?”
Alex was starting to get annoyed. “Father, she’s not a prize, she’s a woman! And if you just looked at them for two minutes instead of berating me, you would see that they already fancy each other!”
“Don’t you raise your voice at me!” he raised his hand, as though to hit Alex, then stopped midway and pinched the bridge of his nose. Alex refused to admit that he’d held his breath or stopped blinking for a moment, no matter how true it may have been.
Finally, after what felt like a painfully long minute, Jesse put his hand down as though making use of a severe amount of self-restraint.
“Flint has already given up the hunt for the night,” said Jesse grimly, “because you’d fooled the innocent woman he was talking to. She hardly seemed to notice him afterwards. Clay cannot find a prospect for they all queue up before him to ask about you, and whether you’re already married! Are you proud of yourself? Does your greed and need for attention never end?”
“I . . .” Alex frowned, and clenched his jaw. In truth, he’d had no idea that anyone had bothered to look his way. He’d danced with as many as every other man had, as was expected in ballrooms like this. He hadn’t realized he’d distracted anybody or ruined anything for his brothers.
“You may be one of the fairest in the land, my son,” Jesse sighed as though Alex had committed the most grievous crime. “But your heart is cold.”
Alex hadn’t meant to . . . he hadn’t meant to . . . what? Be beautiful? Be considered beautiful? Perhaps he should not have been so angry with Max Evans. Perhaps he had simply seen what was beyond Alex’s exterior to what was within. Nothing good.
“Pardon me,” a deep voice said, and both Manes looked up. None other than Max Evans stood there, his side lit with the brighter glow of the ballroom inside.
Alex turned away and rubbed his face, certain he looked shaken by his father’s words, and when he looked up again, he found Max staring at him. Alex frowned. He wished he knew why it felt as though Max was looking straight through him, why it made his heart tremble in his chest now so unpleasantly, and why he couldn’t look away himself.
“Mr. Evans, sir,” Jesse bowed his head. “We’re so very pleased to see you’ve returned. We do hope that your trip to Europe was fruitful.” Then he saw that Alex was still staring unabashedly back, and nudged his hip none too softly.
Alex clenched his jaw and bowed his head stiffly. Max was still staring at him, then his eyes fell to the spot where Alex was rubbing his hip, to Jesse, and back to Alex again.
“Pardon my intrusion,” Max bowed his head in return, his eyes sliding to Jesse. “Gregory Manes is looking for his brother – Alexander, I assume?” he asked Alex with a raise of his brows and without waiting for his response, he continued, “I’ve offered to help him. He’s quite distraught about your disappearance, Alexander, so if you wouldn’t mind, I will accompany you back to the ballroom.”
“How very gentlemanly of you,” Jesse said matter-of-factly. He did not seem pleased, but he glared at Alex and jerked his chin towards Max as though telling Alex not to be rude by keeping the wealthy man away from the festivities.
Alex swallowed. The very last thing he wanted to do was be in Max Evans’s presence, especially now, but he wanted to stay with his father even less. And he didn’t doubt what Jesse would do if he refused the request of a very highly-esteemed and beloved member of society.
With a glance at his father, Alex came as close to Max Evans as he dared, bowed, and slid back into the hallway while keeping as much distance between him and Max as he could manage. In this long but narrow space between the entrance hall and the grand ballroom, Alex could feel Max’s eyes on him the entire time.
“Are you all right?” Max suddenly asked. Alex, for a moment, was convinced that Max was speaking to some invisible third person who had suddenly joined them without his knowledge. Then he said, “Your arm.”
Alex realized he’d been rotating the arm that his father had so severely gripped. He swallowed and kept it straight at his side. “I don’t know what you mean, sir.”
“Does he always grab you like that?”
Alex clenched his jaw, unwilling to answer. He had heard Max’s opinion of him. What did he care whether or not his father harmed him? He despised being thought of as nothing but beautiful, but despised being pitied by those who clearly didn’t have much an opinion of him more.
“I really don’t understand what you’re asking, sir,” was all he said in response. He hoped Gregory hadn’t made a fuss with his disappearance. The last thing he needed was the Evans family suspecting where he’d gone or what his father had said to him.
Alex whipped around. “My name is Alex, sir. I’d rather you not address me so informally, sir.”
Alex might’ve expected Max to turn as cold as he had known him to be. To scoff at his words. To dismiss him as unimportant and dramatic.
Instead, Max fixed him with an unreadable narrow of his eyes, studying him, then murmured,
“And I’d rather you stopped calling me ‘sir.’ I’m not that much older than you.”
He frowned. “You don’t like me much, do you?”
“No,” he said. Whatever he’d been expecting, he hadn’t been expecting that. “I don’t.”
“But you don’t even know me.”
He started to walk again with Max behind him. “I know enough.”
Max scoffed, and Alex caught him shaking his head out of the corner of his eyes. “I sincerely doubt that. How could you, if I know nothing of you?”
Alex clenched his jaw. And yet you deemed you knew enough to insult me to your friends and family. What an arrogant hypocrite.
“I suppose Miss Evans is the one to thank for your search,” said Alex. ”Suppose she’s the one who asked you to help.”
Max fell into step beside him easily enough, frowning. “Just so you’re aware, I’m very perceptive. I didn’t need my sister to tell me anything.”
“She was the last I’d spoken to before my father . . . pulled me aside to ask me something.” Alex cleared his throat. “Unless you were watching me the entire time, you couldn’t have known I’d gone anywhere.” And Alex highly doubted Max had paid him any attention at all.
Max straightened and faced ahead. “Believe it or not, Alexander –”
“I’ve already told you –”
“I don’t spend my time ogling strangers for pleasure.”
“Oh?” Alex didn’t think Max Evans even knew the meaning of the word ‘pleasure.’ “So what do you like to do for pleasure then?”
“What do you like?” he retorted.
Alex stopped. Max was only a few feet ahead before he realized this and stopped as well. They were right before the archway to the grand ballroom now, the music loud and the glasses glimmering with candlelight.
Alex met his eyes and felt a strange and empty satisfaction as he plainly said the one thing that he’d overheard Max hated doing.
“Dancing,” he said. “Even if one’s partner is barely tolerable.”
Without waiting to see Max’s reaction to his own words thrown back at him, Alex passed him and returned to the crowd and their fancy dresses and glasses, feeling no better for saying the words than he’d felt hearing them.
