She nodded and went back to her exercises, and Kit smiled as he closed the door. Her voice was magnificent, even in warm-ups.

He was tempted to peek into the kitchen to check on Alice, but he’d restrained himself all day. Hovering over her wouldn’t do either of them any good and he’d promised not to corrupt her any further. Even if it killed him.

So yes, distance. That was his new goal. Alice would marry Lockwood and have little dukes somewhere in England, away from her family.

Ignoring the sourness in the pit of his stomach, he leaned against the doorframe to the dining room and thrust his hands in his pockets. Preston arrived with a glass of champagne for Kit. “Quite a night. Is it time to celebrate your success yet?”

“Our success—and not yet.” Kit sipped from the coupe and watched the crowd. “Though everyone seems happy with the food.”

“Happy? They are raving about the lobster thermidor and the duck. Everyone is dying to know who this Chef Lucciola is.”

Kit smiled. They would never find out. A tiny general in crinoline, Alice had done a magnificent job of overseeing all the preparation and plating. He’d overheard her giving orders in there and the confidence in her voice heated his blood, nearly giving him an erection right in the dining room. Bossiness hadn’t appealed to him in the past, but Alice was different. For some reason, when she expressed herself in such definitive terms, he enjoyed it. Too much, it seemed.

“Any chance we could hire Alice permanently?” Preston asked.

The glass paused midway to Kit’s mouth as his body locked up. He hadn’t considered it. After tonight’s preview, he had planned to hire a chef, but that depended on how many memberships sold first. Call Kit superstitious, but he didn’t wish to hire permanent staff before they knew if this idea would take. “I cannot imagine she’d be willing—or that her mother would allow it.”

“What if her husband allowed it because he owned the club?”

Kit looked over sharply. “You know that’s not going to happen.”

“Do I?” Amusement tugged at Preston’s lips. “I think you’ve avoided her all day for a reason, but I see your eyes drifting that way every few minutes and how you’ve hesitated by the door to listen to her.”

“Do not ruin this night for me,” he warned. “You’re overstepping, Pres.”

“Never seen you this touchy over a woman before, either.”

“Goddamn it. Did you not hear me?”

Preston raised a hand in surrender. “I’ll stop. For now.”

Downing the rest of his champagne, Kit handed the empty coupe to Preston. “Watch it, or I’ll tell Arabella the name of the woman your father tried to force you to marry.”

His friend’s face darkened, anger rushing in quick. “Don’t you dare.”