"Lucien will be home for tea soon but we have time for a quick chat." Jean glanced at the clock.
Alice furrowed her brow and looked around the kitchen. There was no steaming kettle on the stovetop or cake waiting to be sliced. Jean seemed to be behind on her preparations. "If it's not a bother—"
"Of course not." Jean's gaze slid toward the clock again. "What can I help you with?"
Alice didn't quite know where to start, an unfamiliar sensation for her. She was accustomed to thinking things through clearly and efficiently, but this—
"I like what you've done with your hair," she said lamely.
Jean fluffed her soft curls. "Thank you."
"I should do something different with my hair."
"It's a lovely, vivid color. You could try a style that highlights it—"
The front door banged open, and heavy male footfall thundered down the hall. "Darling, Charlie has to finish a report, so we'll have time for a nice long bath too—" Lucien was in the doorway, shedding his jacket and tie. He spotted Alice and his face fell. "Oh, hello."
"Alice dropped by for a chat." Jean gave a stiff smile. "So why don't you have that bath?"
Lucien frowned. Jean pursed her lips. Alice wondered why anyone would bathe hours before bedtime.
After Lucien's dragging steps faded away, she said, "He's even odder at home than he is at work."
Jean choked on a laugh. "Why don't we have that tea?" She rose.
Alice decided that she best get to it. "Matthew Lawson has asked me to his home. For dinner."
Jean plopped back down in her chair. "Really!?"
Her throat closing, Alice could only nod.
"Yes, we definitely need to do something with your hair," Jean mused, the glint of battle in her eyes.