The nights were drawing in as autumn progressed, but in Paris, that simply meant that the nightlife became illuminated a little earlier. Fully aware that Eleanor and Jay were gently match-making, Alex had given in gracefully to their request that he take his hired car and collect Jay's sister from her apartment, parking in the street below to walk up. His tuxedo was covered with a warm greatcoat, shoes shining, hair neatly parted; he looked every inch the dapper gentleman as he rang her doorbell.
Though Eliza recognized that her new sister-in-law, at least, was match-making, she had no idea what to expect of the Scotsman. She hadn't even seen so much as a photograph to know what he looked like, but as it was, that was the least of her problems. If she had her choice, she might have wormed her way out of it, but she had promised Ellie she'd be there, and she didn't want to disappoint her. She just about jumped out of her skin at the sound of the doorbell, a mess of jangled nerves. She scowled at her reflection in the mirror one last time, hoping the makeup she'd carefully caked on her face would hide the bruise she'd only just acquired a few hours earlier. She didn't much care what the Scotsman thought, but she hoped her brother wouldn't notice. "Un moment!" she called, forgetting he might not understand French, as she applied a little more powder in hopes of looking half-way presentable. She smoother her dress down, drew a deep breath, and made her way to the door, pulling it open with a plastered-on smile she hoped he would find pleasing, if not fake.
Alex's smile as the door was opened faded at the sight of a false smile in return and, yes ....a creditable attempt at hiding a mark. His eyes narrowed for a split second before he raised his smile once more. "Miss Eliza Marshall?" he asked politely, offering her his hand. "My name's Alexander Finley. Your new sister-in-law thinks we should get married."
This was one woman who didn't miss a trick. Eliza caught sight of the faded smile, and the narrowed eyes, narrowing her own eyes at the sight of him. Oh, he was handsome, to be sure, but it was pretty apparent that he didn't want to be manipulated into a relationship anymore than she did. "Well, aren't you the charmer," she said, taking his hand with a fake smile of her own.
"I've never pretended to be a ladies man," Alex told her honestly. He jerked his chin toward her overly made-up eye. "Who walloped you?"
Eliza snatched her hand back with a scowl. "That is none of your business, Mr. Finley," she snapped, her expression darkening, along with her mood. "Let me just get my coat, and we can get this charade over with, shall we?"
"Miss Marshall," Alex said quietly, "if I have noticed, then your brother will notice. I'm not asking what happened, I'm asking who did it. Please, allow me to even the score somewhat."
"If you must know, I walked into a door. There, are you happy now?" she said, turning her back on him to fetch her coat and purse, leaving him standing in the open doorway. The invitation inside had not been made, but could probably be assumed.
Alex sighed. He knew he hadn't made the best impression, but did she really think he was that stupid" Did she think her brother would accept that' He stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a definitive click. "Are you done having a wee petulant tantrum, or shall I make myself comfortable?" he asked.
Eliza laughed, as she dragged her coat out of the closet. Unfortunately, it was a little threadbare, but would just have to do. "I assure you, Mr. Finley, that when I am having a wee tantrum, you will most assuredly know it," she snapped back.
"Oh, really?" Despite himself, Alex smiled at her robust response. "Well, I'm not offering to be your white knight, and I'm not looking to take away your independence. All I want is to punch the man that marked your pretty face, because no man should raise a hand to a woman and get away with it."
She breathed an audible sigh as she dropped her coat across her arms, her back to him. She could almost feel him watching her, eyes boring into her back. What would he think of her when he knew that black eye was no one's fault but her own" What would her brother think. She chewed at her lip a moment before making a reply. "That is very gallant of you, but impossible, I'm afraid." Was she being sarcastic or not' It was hard to tell.
He considered her answer. She was telling the truth, he could tell. "In that case, Miss Marshall ....will you allow me to wash your face and reapply your make up?" he asked her gently. "Ellie taught me how to do it years ago. I doubt you want your brother to fixate on how you were in a position to be assaulted all evening."
She turned her gaze toward him, perfectly-shaped brows furrowing as she assessed him again, more carefully this time. "Are you saying I do not know how to apply my own makeup?" she asked, with more than a hint of defensiveness.
Alex's smile showed itself again - the real smile, the warm quirk of lips and crinkling of eyes that Eleanor knew very well. "No," he assured her. "Only that in your concern over concealment, you may have overdone it a wee bit."
"You are not going to let this go, are you?" she asked, knowing when she'd met someone who was a worthy adversary. She might even find him attractive, if he wasn't so very full of himself. Or so she thought.
"You spent an afternoon with Ellie and you're surprised to find that I'm stubborn enough to handle her?" he countered with a low chuckle. "My dear Miss Marshall, I would rather see you enjoy your evening than spend it upset because your brother doesn't know how to let something go."
"My brother adores me," she said, though that was exactly why her dear brother might not let things go until he knew precisely what had happened and took action to make sure it didn't happen again - whatever that action might be. She flopped down into a chair with a defeated look on her face. "Perhaps you should just go without me. Tell them - tell them I am not feeling well." That wouldn't be too far from the truth, after all.
"Not a chance." Pulling off his coat, Alex laid it to one side and disappeared in the direction of her kitchen, returning just a minute or so later with a bowl of warm water and a small pile of soft dish cloths and towels.
There was that look on her face again - surprise first at his boldness, quickly followed by annoyance. "Oh, do make yourself right at home, Mr. Finley!" she chided as he returned with the tools he'd need to wash her face. "I am not a child, you know."
"I don't mean to suggest you are," Alex told her gently. "But no one should have to deal with the shock of such an attack, and the aftermath of it, all alone. Since I can't even the odds for you, I would like you to trust me enough to make it so that you need not worry about your brother doing something stupid on a whim."
Though Eliza recognized that her new sister-in-law, at least, was match-making, she had no idea what to expect of the Scotsman. She hadn't even seen so much as a photograph to know what he looked like, but as it was, that was the least of her problems. If she had her choice, she might have wormed her way out of it, but she had promised Ellie she'd be there, and she didn't want to disappoint her. She just about jumped out of her skin at the sound of the doorbell, a mess of jangled nerves. She scowled at her reflection in the mirror one last time, hoping the makeup she'd carefully caked on her face would hide the bruise she'd only just acquired a few hours earlier. She didn't much care what the Scotsman thought, but she hoped her brother wouldn't notice. "Un moment!" she called, forgetting he might not understand French, as she applied a little more powder in hopes of looking half-way presentable. She smoother her dress down, drew a deep breath, and made her way to the door, pulling it open with a plastered-on smile she hoped he would find pleasing, if not fake.
Alex's smile as the door was opened faded at the sight of a false smile in return and, yes ....a creditable attempt at hiding a mark. His eyes narrowed for a split second before he raised his smile once more. "Miss Eliza Marshall?" he asked politely, offering her his hand. "My name's Alexander Finley. Your new sister-in-law thinks we should get married."
This was one woman who didn't miss a trick. Eliza caught sight of the faded smile, and the narrowed eyes, narrowing her own eyes at the sight of him. Oh, he was handsome, to be sure, but it was pretty apparent that he didn't want to be manipulated into a relationship anymore than she did. "Well, aren't you the charmer," she said, taking his hand with a fake smile of her own.
"I've never pretended to be a ladies man," Alex told her honestly. He jerked his chin toward her overly made-up eye. "Who walloped you?"
Eliza snatched her hand back with a scowl. "That is none of your business, Mr. Finley," she snapped, her expression darkening, along with her mood. "Let me just get my coat, and we can get this charade over with, shall we?"
"Miss Marshall," Alex said quietly, "if I have noticed, then your brother will notice. I'm not asking what happened, I'm asking who did it. Please, allow me to even the score somewhat."
"If you must know, I walked into a door. There, are you happy now?" she said, turning her back on him to fetch her coat and purse, leaving him standing in the open doorway. The invitation inside had not been made, but could probably be assumed.
Alex sighed. He knew he hadn't made the best impression, but did she really think he was that stupid" Did she think her brother would accept that' He stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a definitive click. "Are you done having a wee petulant tantrum, or shall I make myself comfortable?" he asked.
Eliza laughed, as she dragged her coat out of the closet. Unfortunately, it was a little threadbare, but would just have to do. "I assure you, Mr. Finley, that when I am having a wee tantrum, you will most assuredly know it," she snapped back.
"Oh, really?" Despite himself, Alex smiled at her robust response. "Well, I'm not offering to be your white knight, and I'm not looking to take away your independence. All I want is to punch the man that marked your pretty face, because no man should raise a hand to a woman and get away with it."
She breathed an audible sigh as she dropped her coat across her arms, her back to him. She could almost feel him watching her, eyes boring into her back. What would he think of her when he knew that black eye was no one's fault but her own" What would her brother think. She chewed at her lip a moment before making a reply. "That is very gallant of you, but impossible, I'm afraid." Was she being sarcastic or not' It was hard to tell.
He considered her answer. She was telling the truth, he could tell. "In that case, Miss Marshall ....will you allow me to wash your face and reapply your make up?" he asked her gently. "Ellie taught me how to do it years ago. I doubt you want your brother to fixate on how you were in a position to be assaulted all evening."
She turned her gaze toward him, perfectly-shaped brows furrowing as she assessed him again, more carefully this time. "Are you saying I do not know how to apply my own makeup?" she asked, with more than a hint of defensiveness.
Alex's smile showed itself again - the real smile, the warm quirk of lips and crinkling of eyes that Eleanor knew very well. "No," he assured her. "Only that in your concern over concealment, you may have overdone it a wee bit."
"You are not going to let this go, are you?" she asked, knowing when she'd met someone who was a worthy adversary. She might even find him attractive, if he wasn't so very full of himself. Or so she thought.
"You spent an afternoon with Ellie and you're surprised to find that I'm stubborn enough to handle her?" he countered with a low chuckle. "My dear Miss Marshall, I would rather see you enjoy your evening than spend it upset because your brother doesn't know how to let something go."
"My brother adores me," she said, though that was exactly why her dear brother might not let things go until he knew precisely what had happened and took action to make sure it didn't happen again - whatever that action might be. She flopped down into a chair with a defeated look on her face. "Perhaps you should just go without me. Tell them - tell them I am not feeling well." That wouldn't be too far from the truth, after all.
"Not a chance." Pulling off his coat, Alex laid it to one side and disappeared in the direction of her kitchen, returning just a minute or so later with a bowl of warm water and a small pile of soft dish cloths and towels.
There was that look on her face again - surprise first at his boldness, quickly followed by annoyance. "Oh, do make yourself right at home, Mr. Finley!" she chided as he returned with the tools he'd need to wash her face. "I am not a child, you know."
"I don't mean to suggest you are," Alex told her gently. "But no one should have to deal with the shock of such an attack, and the aftermath of it, all alone. Since I can't even the odds for you, I would like you to trust me enough to make it so that you need not worry about your brother doing something stupid on a whim."