As Luck Would Have It by Alissa Johnson Read Free Book Online Page B

artifices.” God, but she was fun to tease.
    “Oh…well, I believe I retain the right to be offended on behalf of the women who are not here to defend themselves.”
    Alex rocked back on his heels and looked down at her with exaggerated interest. “Let me see if I understand you correctly. Are you proclaiming yourself a representative of females the world over?”
    “Don’t be silly. There is too much difference between cultures.” She took a delicate sip from her glass. “Just the British ones.”
    “Ah, excellent. You won’t mind shedding some light on a few mysteries surrounding the fairer sex then, will you, Miss Ambassador?”
    “I shall endeavor to answer your questions regarding British women, Your Grace,” she said pertly, then, after another sip added, “of a certain age.”
    “Alex.”
    “Oh, very well, Alex, but only while no one else is listening.”
    Alex grinned at her stipulation. “Fair enough. I can scarce believe I have been handed this opportunity. Do you know that there are men who would commit murder to be in my shoes at this moment?”
    “Ask your question, if you please,” Sophie replied, rolling her eyes, but smiling nonetheless.
    “Very well. My first question is this: What ever do ladies, British ladies, discuss when they retire to the drawing room after dinner?”
    Sophie had absolutely no idea. For the life of her, she couldn’t recall ever having taken part in that particular ritual. Representative of British women? What on earth had she been thinking? In the last twelve years, she had known exactly four British women—three officers’ wives and Mrs. Summers. Sophie had to be the least qualified ambassador in…in the history of ambassadors. Not that she was willing to admit to it, of course.
    “Oh, well…this and that,” she began, badly. “We talk of the weather…and our families, of course, and er…major events like births, deaths, and weddings.” That sounded mind-numbingly dull. “And politics, naturally, and…literature.” It was the best she could do.
    “Ah, I know a great many gentlemen who shall be relieved to hear it. Most are convinced the ladies spend the time verbally dissecting every male at the party.”
    As his guess was likely closer to the truth than her own, “Hmm,” was really the most eloquent response she could come up with.
    “Next question, do you see that young woman over there in the pink gown?”
    Sophie narrowed her eyes in search. “There are a great many pink gowns in this room to night. You’ll need to be more specific.”
    “The blonde standing next to the lemonade table with the pearl necklace and—”
    “Ah, yes, what of her?”
    “She is the younger sister of an old school chum, and I happen to know that she is a girl of uncommon good sense and generally a splendid conversationalist. Yet when I stopped by their town house today, she spent no less than three-quarters of an hour discussing the very gown she is wearing to night. No other topic could interest her but the event at which we are now present. And she is even now making the most syrupy smile I have seen outside of a lunatic asylum. So, my question is this: how is it that an otherwise perfectly sensible young woman can be transformed into a deranged simpleton by the mere mention of a ball?”
    Sophie thought about that for a moment. “I think, Your Grace…er, Alex, that you might take the time to look about the room and take note of the cut of the gowns the young women are wearing.”
    Alex grinned mischievously at her. “I have been looking, Sophie. I have most definitely been looking.”
    “Then you must have noticed that ball gowns are cut considerably lower and slimmer than day gowns. The answer to your question is…inadequate air supply.”
    Alex laughed outright. “I believe there is something to that theory, but I’ll admit I only noticed the lower and quite neglected the slimmer.”
    “I’m sure you did. Have you any other questions?”
    “Just