by Diane Darcy
His valet helped him get ready for bed without comment.
Well, what was there to say?
He was a drunken, three-time loser, and no longer promised to Lizzie. He wouldn’t know what to say either.
Feeling adrift, he lay in bed and wondered what he’d done wrong.
Why didn’t she want him?
What was wrong with him?
The other girls at the ball tonight had seemed interested enough. Of course, Lizzie knew him far better than any person on earth.
Mayhap that was the problem. She knew him too well and didn’t like what she saw. P.S. I loathe you. Had she truly meant those words over the years?
Though, she’d seemed to enjoy getting to know him in recent weeks, mayhap, the real problem was that he didn’t know her? What did she want? Was she truly in love with that cowboy? If so, she’d hidden it well, for he hadn’t seen any real signs of it.
Perhaps he needed to ask her?
Mayhap that was why she wasn’t too worried about her reputation being ruined. She’d be married soon enough, and on her way to the Americas. Living on a cattle ranch and waking up to that smug, irritating face every day.
He wished he had beaten the man harder. Knocked out a couple of his teeth. Then he wouldn’t be so pleasant to look upon would he?
With those dark thoughts, he drifted off to sleep.
~~~
Everyone tried to act normally at breakfast to spare Mary and Matthew from the drama.
As usual, her two siblings were oblivious to any of the undercurrents at the breakfast table, and Mary fought with Matthew over the last piece of unburnt toast.
“Children, manners,” Mother admonished, but not with any real heat. Nevertheless, Lizzie still felt the sting. How she’d love to be a younger child who simply needed worry over bad manners.
But no, she was old enough to create full-blown scandals all on her own.
After breakfast, her father invited her into his office, and her mother followed behind.
Her father walked to the fireplace, and stared at the flames for a moment, then turned to face them both. “I’m trying to decide what’s best to do, Lizzie, and as it’s your future we’re discussing, you’re welcome to join in. What do you want to do?”
Lizzie clasped her hands in front of her. “I wish to marry Alexander.”
“Aaaah!” Her father threw his hands up in the air and walked toward the window and then paced back again. “At first I thought you wanted him again —”
“I do.”
His eyes widened, incredulous. “Then why did you say no?”
Unexpectedly, she burst into tears, covering her face with both hands. “I don’t know! I don’t know why I misbehave with him!”
Lizzie’s mother put her arm around her and urged her toward the striped roman chaise. The two of them sank down on it together, and Lizzie pressed her face to her mother’s shoulder. “Why do I act in such a fashion?” she sobbed the words.
Mother petted her shoulder. “It is only with him, dear. Sometimes, events happen to us when we’re young, and they stay with us our entire lives. We get stuck there. I think sometimes when you’re with Alexander, you become that fourteen-year-old girl again, the one who was hurt by his cruel words. And that’s who is responding, not the thoughtful young lady that I know you to be.”
She cried harder.
Her mother rubbed her back as Lizzie thought about it. Was that what was happening here? Inside, was she still that young girl who was skinny, frizzy haired, and mud-eyed? The girl who swore never to forgive?
Perhaps so. Perhaps her mother was correct.
Her father handed over a handkerchief. “There is nothing for it. I think it’s time we go back to the country.”
Lizzie wiped her eyes. “Because of the scandal?”
Her father sighed. “Yes. I want to protect you from the talk, and this is the best way to let it die down. Our family can handle a few missteps now and again, but I see no need to stay in town and let the ton rub it in our faces.”
He awkwardly patted her shoulder. “Now go upstairs and pack and we’ll be on our way.”
Lizzie nodded and headed toward the door. She turned back to look at their worried faces. “I truly am sorry, and I’m so grateful to have you both for my parents.”
“None of that, now. There is much to do.” Her father’s voice was gruff.
With a small nod, she exited the room, shutting the door quietly behind her.
Getting out of town sounded like a brilliant idea. It would give her time to think.
In fact, she might end up with all the time in the world to do so.
Chapter Ten
Alexander woke the next morning with a headache.
It took a moment to remember he’d overindulged for the first time in years.
Blast Lord Browning, anyway.
It took some time, but slowly the night’s events rose to his consciousness.
Had he really gone to Lizzie’s house last night? Please, God, let that have been a dream. Because what he thought he’d done was go to Lizzie’s house, throw rocks at her window, announce himself her hero, and propose once again.
Actually, now that he thought about it, that had been the first time he’d ever proposed to her.
The results had been the same, however.
She’d flatly rejected him.
He closed his gritty eyes once more, as pain seemed to shoot straight to his heart. Even in the dire straits she was in, she’d rejected him? Why? He just couldn’t seem to wrap his mind around what was going on in hers.
He used to be an expert at assessing the motivations of others.
If he was back in France, Spain, or Portugal trying to outwit the enemy, he’d look at the situation from their point of view. Empathize. Try and think about what they wanted and how they might go about getting it.
And then he’d thwart them.
That had been his sole job, and he’d excelled at it.
Mayhap he was going about this courtship all wrong. Mayhap he needed to think about Lizzie as if she was the enemy.
What did she want?
Even if she wanted to marry Mr. Russell, she couldn’t wish to be a social outcast, gossiped about and reviled by those in her social circle. By refusing to marry him, that was exactly what would happen to her after last night’s events.
So what was she hoping to gain?
He glanced toward his wardrobe and thought about the drawer especially dedicated to the keeping of every single one of Lizzie’s letters.
He knew her. Or he blasted well should after all the correspondence they’d exchanged over the years. She’d been very forthcoming, entertained him on many an occasion, but she often ended the missives with “P.S. I loathe you.”
When had that started?
He threw back the covers and quickly found the letters and organized the bundles according to the dates.
They went back to their childhood.
He opened several of the early ones, and ten minutes later finally found one with the postscript he was looking for. He read the letter several times before remembering she’d written the polite little note after they’d had that last spat when they were children.
After he’d kissed her and she’d been repulsed by him.
What had he said to her? He honestly couldn’t remember. He remembered the feelings of humiliation, and the relief he’d felt when she’d left. Could she have held onto bitter emotions after all these years?
Surely not.
The postscript she’d left had simply been an ongoing joke between the two of them. It had made him laugh every time he’d seen it.
Surely it couldn’t have had any deeper meaning, could it?
Thinking about her letters reminded him that he had one there somewhere; something she’d written to him recently, and apparently he had yet to receive.
He bellowed for his valet.
When Gibbs came in, he forced himself not to bark out the words. �
��I believe I received a letter from Lady Elizabeth. Have ye seen it?”
Gibbs walked to a side table, lifted a plate and presented Alexander with the post.
“Thank you.” His tone was dismissive as he quickly rifled through the three letters and easily found Elizabeth’s handwriting.
He broke the seal and read the words, his sense of disbelief growing by the minute.
She didn’t want their engagement to be over? She enjoyed the time they’d spent together, getting to know him, and was sorry for her part in their disagreement? She shouldn’t have accepted flowers from Mr. Russell?
He glanced at the date. She’d sent this to him right after their disagreement after the horse race.
And yet, last night …
He closed his eyes.
When he hadn’t responded, she’d thought he didn’t want her and hurt had turned to anger. If only she knew. His feelings were very strong, very real. They’d exchanged so many letters over the years that he knew her better than anyone else in the world.
He’d certainly exposed his true self to her.
Yet when he’d arrived, she’d rejected him. Why? He glanced at the polite little letter once again. Could she truly be holding on to anger from a little tiff they’d had when they were children?
Of course she could.
He was an idiot for not seeing it sooner.
How different things would have been had he read this new missive right away. Instead, he’d been hurt by her actions and gone away to lick his wounds. By the time he’d returned, she was hurt all over again.
He took a deep breath, read the letter once more, and tried to think what to do next.
If his commanding officer could see him now — done in, by a tiny redheaded female.
His hands clenched. He could fix this. He just needed to figure out how. Mayhap he should just find her and tell her he was an idiot.
Mayhap he should simply tell her he wasn’t letting her go.
~~~
Lizzie took her time packing.
When she realized she was stalling, irritation at herself flared within. She was still hoping to see Alexander, wasn’t she?
If she went to the country, would she ever see him again? Or would she simply hear, after the fact, that he’d married?
Was she all right with that? It seemed she would have to be, wouldn’t she?
The maid came in the room. “Miss, are you receiving company this afternoon?”
Her heart sped. “Who is it?”
“It’s Mr. Russell.”
Disappointment flooded her. She supposed she ought to say goodbye to the man, as she wasn’t going to be here for the rest of the season. It was quite possible she’d never see him again.
She went downstairs to find him in the parlor, and he was alone.
She nodded toward her maid to go and sit by the window, and then crossed the room to stop in front of Mr. Russell. She managed not to gasp at his bruised visage as she curtsied, he bowed, and when the formalities were over, she offered him a seat, and took the one across from him. “Mr. Russell, it’s so nice of you to stop by today.”
Certainly, no one else had.
He smiled, emphasizing his attractive features. “I would never miss an opportunity to see you.”
She smiled at him, warm feelings for the man curving her lips. “Flatterer.”
“Not at all. I am most sincere.”
In light of everything that had occurred, she actually was quite grateful to know she still had a friend. A tall, well-favored one didn’t hurt her bruised ego in the slightest. “Thank you. May I ask what happened to your face?”
“I ran into a door.”
“Truly? I saw Captain MacGregor last night, and apparently he suffers from the same affliction.” The moment she said the words, her eyes widened in realization. The two men had fought? Over … over her? “Oh. Oh, dear,” she said faintly.
The man didn’t so much as blink. “Doors can be dangerous.”
“Yes. I can certainly see that now.”
He grinned at her. “Lady Elizabeth, I like you. I’m just going to give it to you straight. I’m not the kind of man who beats about the bush anyway, and I hope you are as fond of plain speaking.”
His words brought to mind Alexander’s outburst when they were children. About the way her mother had made her realize that the incident had stayed with her throughout the years. “I don’t believe I’ve always been an enthusiast, but it is starting to grow on me.”
“All right, good.” With his cowboy hat in hand, he twisted it in a circle, revealing his nerves for the first time since she’d known the very confident man. He looked down, then back up at her.
“Lady Elizabeth, I’ve liked you from the moment I saw you. I didn’t realize it, but I just might have a fascination with beautiful red hair. Anyway, I heard about your trouble, and wondered if I might be of any assistance.”
“My trouble, Mr. Russell?”
Her frosty tone didn’t deter him and he smiled. “I heard about how you and MacGregor are no longer to be married. And, the way I hear it, that’s created a bit of a situation for you.”
Her cheeks heated as her chin rose. “Whether it has, or whether it hasn’t, why would you think it any of your business?”
Again, he chuckled, apparently, not put off by her cold demeanor in the least. “The way I see it, you might want to get out of town for a bit.”
“Mr. Russell. Again, I must remind you that my plans are my own.”
“Like I said, I like plain speaking. Lady Elizabeth,” he took a breath, cleared his throat, and stood.
She watched him curiously, and as he rounded the table she became slightly alarmed. “Mr. Russell? What are you — ”
What he was doing became readily apparent as he sank down on one knee.
Her mouth parted as panic seized her.
He grasped her right hand in both of his and looked into her eyes. “Lady Elizabeth, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
Lizzie was completely stunned. This was the last thing she’d been expecting. She had certainly chatted with Mr. Russell on various occasions, and flirted even, but as she’d been engaged the entire time, it had never gone beyond that, regardless of what Alexander thought.
“Lady Elizabeth?” He chuckled, his eyes sparkling. “I can see I’ve taken you by surprise.”
“Well, yes, Mr. Russell, you have. I’ve had no idea your thoughts were running in this direction.”
“As this is the first time you’ve been free to marry, I hope you’ll take into account my forbearance on the subject.”
Her eyelids fluttered down to where her hand was still held between the two of his, an intimate gesture, as she wasn’t wearing gloves. She’d not planned on company, as she’d been packing her clothing.
The warmth of his hand penetrated her own, and her mind, in somewhat of a muddle, tried to think of a coherent response.
Yes, it would solve her troubles in the current situation.
If she went away to America, she would essentially take her scandal with her, sparing her family anymore heartache.
And she did like Mr. Russell. He was good company, charming, and a wonderful conversationalist.
But, were those reasons enough to marry a man?
She opened her mouth to speak, and again, didn’t know what to say. She pressed her lips together. Finally she cleared her throat. “Mr. Russell, I had never thought to receive a proposal from you, and I am stunned.”
“It would make me the happiest man in the world if you accept my offer. I think you should know, I have a ranch out in Texas. I inherited it from my father, who loved his drink. My grandfather had made it a thriving concern, but when my father took over, he drained its resources down to almost nothing.”
Determination hardened every line of his body. “I am resolute in my desire to build it back to what it was, and I’m laying all of this out because I genuinely like you. I know you’re an heiress and you’ll bring
much-needed money to the marriage. But I would be a good husband to you, faithful. I am a man more like my grandfather than my father.”
His honesty touched her. He wasn’t making any bones about the fact that he needed her money, and she’d be the first to admit that she liked him too, and enjoyed his company as well.
But was it enough to base a marriage on? Even if it would solve many of her problems?
And what of her feelings for Alexander?
“Mr. Russell, I just don’t believe —”
“No. No, Lizzie. Don’t give me an answer yet. I can see you’re confused and you need to think about this. And that’s all right. Take your time. Just know I want you for my wife, and I think we would deal very well together. I like you, and I believe it wouldn’t take much to tip me,” he made a tilting motion with his free hand, “over into love. Think about it.”
He stood, picked his hat up from the table, and put it on his head. “I’ll see myself out.” He winked at her and shot her a charming smile. “Don’t keep me waiting too long. I’m anxious for you to see Texas. I think Texas would become you. It’s wild, it’s beautiful, and it’s brand new. I think the two of you would have a lot in common.” After a quick bow of his head, he turned and left.
Leaving her with much to think about.
~~~
Alexander headed up the stairs of Drake’s town house and knocked on the door.
He didn’t know if Drake would be able or willing to help him, but he had to at least try.
His friend was still in bed, but Alexander sent his butler upstairs to rouse him, assuring the man that Drake would be grateful he’d done so.
Drake, Lord Browning, came down the stairs a few minutes later tying his robe and looking disgruntled. “It’s a little early in the day to be calling isn’t it?”
“’Tis two in the afternoon.”
“Like I said …” Drake winced as they went into the sitting room, which had obviously been decorated by the man’s female relatives. Flowers, damasks, velvet silks, and imported chintz adorned every wall and surface. Drake walked straight over to the window and shut the drapes, dimming the room into semi-darkness.
The man growled. “Now, what’s so important that it couldn’t wait?”
