Page 64 of Of Fate and Phantoms
"Then don't. Not in front of your lovely friend, anyway." He flashed her a toothy smile.
She didn't return it, but he didn't seem to notice. His smile didn't waver.
"What do you want?" I asked.
"Now, now, let's slow down and get to know one another, shall we? We've hardly spoken, really, not like this. With Fitzroy and his clowns absent, its a perfect opportunity to see if we can be friends."
"We won't be friends."
He pouted. "Why not?"
"Friends don't arrive drunk at one another's houses—"
"I beg to differ. The very best friends always turn up with a gullet full. It's a mark of…something. I forget what. Besides, I'm not drunk."
"Then why are you swaying, slurring your words, and flirting with Alice?"
He dug his fingernails into the armchair. "I'm neither swaying nor slurring. As to the question of flirting…" He flashed another grin at Alice. "I'm simply being friendly. If you don't know the difference, Miss Holloway, then it's most likely no one has ever flirted with you."
Alice's breath hitched. She stared at Buchanan, her face a picture of shock. In her world, men didn't speak so cruelly to ladies. The only horrid words she'd probably heard in her life were those that fell from the lips of Mrs. Denk, our headmistress, and perhaps those of her parents when they'd sent her to the school.
"On the contrary," I said breezily, unruffled by Buchanan's poor manners. "Mr. Fitzroy has flirted with me on several occasions. For instance, just yesterday he allowed me to punch him in the stomach. He doesn't let just anyone do that."
His jaw dropped open.
"It was rather sweet," I went on. "He tensed, of course, and I felt like I was hitting a brick wall, but it was a very flirtatious offer. Don't you agree?"
He shook his head over and over. "The man's courting rituals are unusual. It's no wonder he's not yet married."
"But he does have extraordinary luck with women," I added, wanting to bite off my own tongue and yet also wanting to see my barb hit. Lincoln and Lady Harcourt had been intimate before he met me, and Buchanan had feelings for her. It must gall him that she still cared for Lincoln, and yet seemed to have no interest in her stepson.
Their complicated relationship always made me feel cold and a little revolted. Not because they had been intimate before Lady Harcourt married Buchanan's father, but because they seemed to want to hurt one another. I wasn't sure if they still shared a bed, or just a house, and I didn't want to know.
The muscles in Buchanan's face twitched. The veins in his throat throbbed above his collar. I thought he'd shout at me, perhaps leap out of the chair and threaten me, but he did not. He barked out a laugh.
"I wish I knew his secret," he said simply. "Well, since we've stripped away all polite façades, let me get to the point of my visit."
"Please do."
"I'm glad it's you here, actually, and not Fitzroy."
"Why?"
"Because I find him intimidating to speak to, Miss Holloway. I also think he'd refuse my request before I even finished speaking it."
"And you think I'm more likely to listen?"
"Oh, I know you are. Do you want to know why?"
"Please enlighten me."
He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "Because you feel sorry for me."
I burst out laughing.
He sat back with a pout on his lips. After a moment, he recovered himself and attempted another smile. "Very well, let's just say that you're intrigued. You're far more curious than Fitzroy. He wouldn't care why I was here. You, however, want to know."
I nodded. "You have me there. Go on, then. What is it you want?"
