Page 89 of Devil's Riches

I smiled. “That’d be great. I love his books.”

Now I had yet another excuse in my arsenal if he caught me poking around the mansion later. Oh, I was just looking for the library you mentioned earlier, I could say.

As the evening went on, I felt the tension in my shoulders releasing, my body uncoiling itself. It was all going better than expected. It seemed clear that Edward was ready to welcome Sascha and me into his life and home, so even if I didn’t find anything here during the party tonight, I could return on other occasions to look again.

Halfway through the second course, Sascha’s face scrunched up, and she moved one hand to her abdomen, shoulders gathering in.

“Are you all right, dear?” Edward asked, forehead wrinkling with concern.

“Not really,” she muttered. “My stomach hurts.”

“Have some water. That might help.” Edward poured her a glass from a pitcher and pushed it toward her. “What does it feel like? Is it an ache, or more of a sharp jabbing pain?”

She winced and swallowed hard. “Honestly, I feel the same way I did last time I got gastro,” she said.

Edward’s face fell. “I bet it’s that damn sauce. I knew I shouldn’t have trusted that man when he said he knew how to make it properly,” he said. “I’m so sorry, Sascha. I feel completely responsible.”

She forced a tight smile, still clutching her stomach. “It’s not your fault. A friend of mine has gastro at the moment. I probably caught it from her.”

Edward rang a little golden bell next to his plate. “I’ll have someone bring in an electrolyte drink for you,” he said. “It won’t make you feel better right away, but it’ll help.”

Sascha abruptly stood up, lips pressed together as if she were trying to stop herself from throwing up right on the table. “Actually, I think I should just go home.”

I stood up too. “Do you need me to come with you?”

She waved a hand. “No. Stay. You have a birthday cake waiting for you, remember?” she said with a weak smile. I could tell she felt awful for disrupting our dinner, which had gone swimmingly until now.

“I think I should come and take care of you,” I said.

She shook her head. “No, you probably shouldn’t be near me. I don’t want you to get sick too.” She turned to our grandfather. “I’m so sorry, Edward. I was really looking forward to the party.”

“No need to apologize. It’s not your fault you’re feeling sick,” he replied. “Let me call my driver. I’ll get him to take you home, and I’ll have one of the maids send over some soup later.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

He turned to me. “Is that all right with you, Alexis? Do you want to stay, or would you rather go home too? We can always reschedule our dinner.”

I bit the inside of my cheek as I considered it. The timing of Sascha’s sudden sickness was awful. I didn’t like the idea of being here without her, but at the same time, I wanted to look around the Paxton mansion as soon as possible. If I went home right now, it could be days before I was invited back. Maybe even weeks.

Sascha waved a hand at me, clearly sensing my uncertainty. “Seriously, Lexie, you should stay. Enjoy your birthday. You can bring me some leftover cake tomorrow if I’m feeling better, so I won’t totally miss out on everything.”

“The cake is choc-hazelnut,” Edward added. “Sascha told me it’s your favorite when we spoke on Thursday.”

I nodded slowly as they both stared at me, awaiting my answer. “Okay, I’ll stay. But I’ll call you in an hour to see how you’re feeling,” I said, looking at my sister.

“If it gets bad, just give me a call,” Edward said. “I might be old, but I’m still a doctor.”

A maid appeared in the doorway, responding to the bell Edward rang a moment ago, and they spoke in hushed tones to arrange the driver for Sascha. As they did that, I picked up my purse and got my phone out again so I could let Nate know about the change of plans.

Sascha is feeling sick, I wrote. She’s going home. Everything is still fine apart from that.

A red exclamation mark appeared next to my message a second later, letting me know that it hadn’t sent. My phone had lost service. “Goddammit,” I muttered, taking a few steps closer to the window. No bars appeared.

“Everything okay?” Edward asked, stepping up behind me.

I almost dropped my phone in surprise. “I was trying to send a message to my friend, but my phone is being weird.”

He let out an annoyed sniff. “This part of the house is terrible with service,” he said. “The ballroom is fine, though. You’ll be able to send messages once we’re in there.”

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