Alec expected her to be more upset—she had been sensitive to her uncle’s moods as a girl—but Lottie merely sighed and shook her head. “I certainly don’t want him to die. I only wanted him to listen. Perhaps I should…” But she didn’t finish, only stared off, lost in her thoughts.

He cleared his throat. The longer they stood like this—tense and distant—the worse it looked to Marta. The woman had let him into the house, but she was still suspicious. One contrary word from Lottie could ruin everything. She might not care about her reputation, but Alec certainly did.

“As I was explaining earlier,” he said a touch too briskly, “I have an idea to help convince your housekeeper, but you’ll need to follow my lead. Can you do that?” He did his best to sound skeptical. Lottie had always hated being underestimated.

True to form, she gave him a withering look. “I’m sure I can manage, but I don’t see why I should.”

He stepped closer and brushed a stray curl behind her ear. She inhaled sharply at his touch but didn’t object. To any observer this would look like a welcomed lover’s caress. “If Marta sees me kiss you,” he began, “she won’t doubt a thing. She won’t even remember these past weeks.”

Lottie’s expression didn’t change, but her breathing quickened slightly. “How impressive. I didn’t realize merely witnessing a kiss could lead to memory loss.”

Alec’s lips curved. “Though I’ve been told my talents in that realm are substantial, the point is that it makes for a better story. We need something that takes attention away from you. Imagine: Instead of a dubious young widow staying here alone and arousing suspicion, we’re a young married couple on their honeymoon. The groom kept delaying their journey because of business in Florence, so the bride grew cross and came without him—very sympathetic. No one would blame her.”

As he spoke, Lottie watched closely. She still hadn’t learned to play the coy, bashful lady. Alec had forgotten how penetrating, and slightly unnerving, her gaze could be. It set his blood moving far more than any saucy wink or fluttering eyelash ever had.

“But when he finally arrived, and after a fine bit of groveling, all was forgiven.” The corner of his mouth lifted at the thought of all the ways he could beg forgiveness from her. “Who could resist that?”

Lottie’s cheeks took on the most becoming shade of pink, but she let out an indignant huff. “Why is it that people always seem most titillated by stories of fallen women or romance?”

Alec’s smile grew. He needed to think of a way for her to say titillated again. “I haven’t the faintest. I’ve always preferred a good mystery myself. But in this case, I say we indulge the masses. And don’t leave any room for doubt.”

There was no need for them to actually kiss, of course; it merely needed to appear that way to Marta. But before he could clarify that little detail, Lottie spoke up.