Griffin reached to pry the glass from her hands. The empty glass. A corner of his mouth curved up in a sympathetic half smile. "I think you'd best get a good night's sleep."
She looked longingly toward the decanter, then sighed. The brandy was much stronger than the wine she was used to, and she couldn't even drink much of that. Her head was already buzzing, and more spirits wouldn't solve anything. "You're right. Just promise you won't send Tris away until he's done what you asked him here to do."
"Very well. But—"
"And promise you won't make him feel uncomfortable here, either."
"I suspect he'll feel uncomfortable around you no matter what I—"
"And promise you won't tell him I told you he kissed me."
"Would you let a man complete a sentence?"
She laughed. A heavyhearted laugh, but a laugh nonetheless. "Only if you're going to say what I want to hear."
"I pity the man who finally marries you." Griffin drained the rest of his brandy and set down his glass. "Of course, we have to find a man before I can pity him."
"We can wait for the season—"
"Good God, no." He looked horrified at the thought. "Securing two husbands next year is a daunting enough task." Steepling his hands, he tapped his fingers against one another thoughtfully. "I know," he said, suddenly stilling. "We shall host a ball, and I will invite every unmarried gentleman of my acquaintance. At least twice as many men as ladies…that will ensure that no man is monopolized by another female, and you'll have ample chance to meet all of them."
Feeling bold with the brandy in her, Alexandra rolled her eyes. "You've no idea the preparation that goes into hosting a ball."
"Well, of course not. We didn't host balls on campaign." He poured himself another drink. "I do know how to play the proper host, though. And I have you to do the planning—"
"Me? I've never planned a ball!"
"You cannot tell me Mother never had you assist with the planning. We shall hold it in a month, I think. The season will be well over by then, and Charles will have been gone a full year by then, too, so no one will be able to claim we didn't wait a decent period."
"A month? I cannot plan a ball in a month! Invitations should go out more than a month in advance. Mama spent all year planning Cainewood's annual ball." Realizing she'd as much as admitted she did know something of what it took to plan a ball, she rushed on before her brother could make a smug comment. "We'll need two months, at the very least."
"Six weeks, then." Griffin raised his glass, admiring the way the candlelight illuminated the amber liquid. "You're nothing if not efficient, Alexandra. I'm certain you can plan a ball in six weeks."
"SIX WEEKS." Pacing the music room and shaking her head in disbelief, Alexandra popped another ratafia puff into her mouth. They certainly didn't seem to be working any magic. "He wants us to plan a ball in six weeks."
"We can do it." At her easel, Corinna sighed happily. "A ball! We'll all need new evening dresses."
"Alexandra isn't concerned about our wardrobes at the moment," Juliana chided. She rose from her harp and went to stop her older sister's frantic pacing, placing a gentle hand on her arm. "I cannot believe Griffin is after another husband for you already. You haven't even recovered from the loss of Tristan yet."
Normally Alexandra would protest that she couldn't have lost Tris when she'd never had him, not to mention they'd renewed their acquaintance mere hours earlier. But it did feel like a loss. "I don't believe he committed murder."
"Neither do we," her sisters chimed in unison.
"He doesn't have it in him," Juliana added. "Griffin had no right to forbid you to marry him." Juliana always wanted to see everyone happy. "You should elope; you could run off to Gretna Green—"
"Don't be a goose." Alexandra moved away from her sister and back to the ratafia puffs. "For one thing, Tris hasn't asked me to wed him. For another, have you thought about the effect such a marriage would have on your own prospects? Our good name would be ruined. You and Corinna would never find suitable husbands."
"Perhaps that wouldn't happen," Juliana said. "You cannot pretend to know how society would react—"
"Oh, yes, I can. Look how they've treated Tris all these years!"
"In any case, you shouldn't sacrifice your own happiness for us," she concluded loyally, looking to Corinna for agreement.
Corinna swallowed hard but nodded. "We shall survive, one way or another."
"Geese. I'm surrounded by geese." Alexandra resumed pacing, now wishing there were real ratafia in the ratafia puffs. Was she forever doomed to exercising enough common sense for all three of them? "I won't marry a man if the two of you will suffer as a consequence."
The look that passed between her sisters set her teeth on edge. If they were plotting to conspire against her, it wouldn't be the first time. Juliana made a hobby of meddling in people's lives, and Corinna had played her willing accomplice more than once. But Alexandra was determined to undermine them, never mind that their hearts were in the right place.
"Tris won't marry me in any case," she informed them. "He told me there's no chance he'll ever take me for a wife."
Juliana and Corinna exchanged another glance. "He's hardly had time to propose," Juliana started.
"That doesn't signify." Alexandra feared her protests were falling on deaf ears. "He made his intentions—or non-intentions—perfectly clear. So don't go getting any ideas in your head. A single kiss doesn't mean—"
"A kiss?" Corinna interrupted. "He kissed you?"
Juliana jumped to Alexandra's defense. "I'm sure it was just a good-natured peck on the cheek. There's nothing so wrong with that."
"That's not what it says in The Mirror of the Graces," Corinna informed her. "A Lady of Distinction claims that
