P.S. I Loathe You (Regency Rendezvous Book 8)

by Diane Darcy

  She smiled at him sweetly. “He died of a lingering illness. It was quite sad actually.”

  With that, she turned and walked back up the path, leaving him to wonder if there was a personal message for him in that.

  ~~~

  As she walked with Alexander back toward the house, the man who usually had plenty to say to her seem to be tongue-tied.

  She seemed to suffer the same affliction.

  The awkwardness, between them was slightly upsetting.

  She’d rather have the old Alexander back, the one who said what he thought, even if she didn’t like hearing it.

  The fact that his mother was coming out was somewhat telling, and again, hopeful.

  He truly was hoping to reconcile, which meant he still wished to marry her.

  As he walked silently beside her, she reached out and took his arm once more. It felt … right.

  Once again, she considered the proposal from Mr. Russell. To move away from all that she loved — her family, her home, her friends — to live in the wilds of Texas. There was no denying that there was a part of her that was excited by the thought of it.

  By the adventure of it.

  But, to lose Alexander …

  She was tempted to just flat out ask him what he was thinking.

  The man always planned every event and she’d no doubt he’d done so here, as well. Did she let him off the hook, and encourage him to talk it out?

  Or did she wait to see what he had planned for her?

  There was no doubt that he been courting her since his arrival in London. But it was different this time, wasn’t it? This time, they weren’t a couple anymore.

  Perhaps she wanted him to work to win her?

  Perhaps she was enjoying the fact that there was a little bit of uncertainty, for both of them? Yes, their marriage would effectively erase any stain on their honor. Their parents would be thrilled.

  But what of Alexander? Did he do this out of duty? Out of feelings of honor, decency, principle, or did he do it because he truly cared?

  Again she considered the two men. One, she knew exactly what to expect from. She knew his family, his home, and knew what was required of her there.

  Mr. Russell’s offer was a little more bewildering.

  The man was an unknown entity. Attractive, certainly. And the thought of crossing an ocean, of living in a much wilder land, did hold a certain appeal.

  Did either man love her? Perhaps that was the question she should be asking.

  Or better yet, did she love either one of them? Unequivocally, she could say that she did not love Mr. Russell. She might grow to love him, but at the moment, the answer to that question was no.

  But Alexander? He had filled her childish thoughts, her girlish dreams, and her imagination as a young lady.

  The letters exchanged between them … she still had every one of them.

  He’d been such a part of her life for so long, and hadn’t she felt gutted when she driven out here with her parents?

  She’d felt a true sense of loss.

  And now, with him beside her? All seemed right with the world. So why didn’t she put them both out of their misery and tell him so?

  Was it that she wished to punish him still?

  She’d thought about that quite often as a young lady. Enjoyed every compliment from every young man sent her direction.

  And why? Because every time she’d been told she was pretty, beautiful, or enchanting, who had she thought of?

  Alexander.

  She’d wanted him to know that others didn’t find her unattractive.

  What would he think right now if she told him that Mr. Russell had proposed?

  Some dark part of her wanted to do so. Wanted to see how he’d react, and if it would prove he had feelings for her. That he felt possessive of her.

  But it wouldn’t be an honorable thing to do, and so she kept her mouth closed.

  She walked beside him, very aware of his every movement, and had to suppress a sigh.

  No doubt, she was a fool for the man.

  What remained to be seen was if he felt the same way about her.

  ~~~

  His mother arrived the next day.

  Enthusiastic, gregarious, and as happy as always, she screeched when she saw her friend, and the two women hugged each other and erupted into a flurry of words.

  Alexander, having come out from breakfast with the rest of the family, stood off to the side in the dirt of the driveway, waiting for his mother to notice him.

  Lizzie joined him.

  “This brings back memories, does it not?” Alexander asked.

  Lizzie chuckled. “You’ve been away for a long while; this continued on even after you went off to school.”

  He smiled. “I used to get letters from my mother, describing her continued visits. I remember thinking at the time that our engagement truly had naught to do with us at all, but was simply an excuse for these two to continue their close friendship.”

  “Can you imagine these two, if we did marry, and gave them grandchildren?”

  Alexander’s chest tightened immediately at the thought. Not at how their parents would feel, but at his own excitement at the thought that she would bring the subject up.

  He couldn’t help it, he turned toward her. “Lizzie —”

  “Alexander!” His mother finally seemed to notice him. She hurried over, and enveloped him in her arms, and he bent over and let her kiss his cheek. Next, she cupped his face and looked into his eyes. “My boy. It’s so good to see you, my dear.”

  At that, he straightened, forcing her to release her grasp. Heat crawled up the back of his neck as he saw that Lizzie was smiling at the overly enthusiastic maternal greeting.

  “And Lizzie! Oh my, dear. You look so beautiful. You certainly take after your mother. You know, of course, that I knew her when she was your age, and you are her spitting image.”

  She looked between the two of them. “Now, what’s this foolish business about the two of you breaking your engagement?”

  Alexander groaned, took a step back, and snagged Lizzie’s hand. “We’ll see ye later, Mother. We’ve things to do, as ye know.” With that, he tugged Lizzie across the lawn, and around the corner of the house. “Sorry about that.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re the one who invited her here. You know how she is.”

  He laughed. “Well, can ye blame me? Where ye are concerned, I’ll take all the help I can get.”

  She looked up at him, for a long moment, her gaze searching. “And why is that, Alexander?”

  He didn’t even give himself a chance to think, to remember the strategies he’d put in place. He simply blurted out like a green young lad, “Because, I love you, Lizzie.”

  Her mouth gaped for a moment, and then she snatched her fingers from his hands, gave him a killing glare, turned, and stomped back toward the house.

  That could have gone better.

  ~~~

  He loved her? Where did that come from?

  He’d never in his life indicated that he had those kinds of feelings for her.

  And wasn’t it convenient that, right after his mother had arrived, he’d found the courage to express these newfound emotions!

  She hurried up toward her bedroom, and then changed her mind.

  As she well knew, Alexander would have no compunction about following and cornering her in her bedroom.

  She took the servants’ stairs, and exited on the opposite side of the house.

  What did he want from her?

  She’d been raised to believe that duty, honor, and bearing children were the things that she was to have in her marriage.

  She realized she was crying.

  She wiped at her cheeks and looked at her wet fingers in disbelief.

  Why was she crying?

  In her heart of hearts, she knew. She was no different from any other young girl who wanted to fall in love, to be loved.

  She wanted what her parents had. A w
onderful relationship, where they laughed, enjoyed each other’s company, and raised their children together.

  She’d seen many a marriage over the years that didn’t bear the slightest resemblance to her parents.

  Could she have that with Alexander?

  Well, she’d loved his letters over the years. Loved the stories he’d told of school and his time in the military. She’d always known what was happening in his life, just as he’d known what was transpiring in hers.

  But she’d never expected any type of grand romance, especially in light of the fact that she’d always known, or almost always had known, that she wasn’t the type of woman he favored.

  She didn’t have blonde hair, or blue eyes.

  She thought about Mr. Russell again, and once again appreciated his honesty.

  It was certainly a mark in his favor. He’d let her know what he felt, what he hoped for in the future, the fact that he’d be faithful.

  Alexander was an honorable man, and he’d also come from a family that seemed to have good relations.

  His mother and father had had a good relationship as far as she could tell.

  But Alexander had never promised her fidelity, faithfulness, or even love. Or even the hope of it.

  At sixteen, he’d certainly felt trapped.

  A feeling she well knew.

  She reached the gazebo at the west end of the property, walked up the stairs, and sank down onto a bench.

  Dry-eyed now, she gazed out at the profusion of rosebushes laid out in front of her.

  So why had he said that?

  Because he knew she had feelings for him? And was trying to manipulate her?

  Because he thought it was the acceptable thing to say in the circumstances?

  Did he truly feel something for her?

  The answer was, she didn’t know.

  She just wished she didn’t care so much.

  Chapter Twelve

  The family sat around the dinner table later that night.

  Lizzie sat to Alexander’s right, and hadn’t said much to him at all, beyond the usual polite pleasantries.

  He hadn’t seen her all afternoon, and had decided to give her some time to come to grips with what he’d said.

  Mayhap it had been a mistake.

  His left hand clenched in his lap as he tried to think of another conversational gambit to tempt her into talking with him.

  Drake sat across from him, raising an occasional eyebrow, and giving a slight shake of his head.

  Blast it! Did the man think he didn’t know he was mishandling the situation?

  Give him a battle to plan, and he knew exactly what to do to defeat the enemy.

  But laying siege to Lizzie’s heart? It was not turning out as easy as he’d thought it would be.

  “And so I said to the dear boy, that he was welcome to the shoes, though they were three sizes too large for him.”

  Laughter broke out as his mother finished telling a story about one of their crofter’s children.

  He’d forgotten that whenever she was around her friend, Lizzie’s mother, her English accent seemed to strengthen. Over the years, she picked up several Scottish mannerisms, and it made him wonder if she ever missed living in England.

  Would Lizzie miss living in England if … no, when she married him?

  Another look from Drake had him looking away, only to encounter Lizzie’s father widening his eyes at him and making a gesture with his head.

  He ground his teeth. If he knew what to say to the lady, he’d be saying it, wouldn’t he? He took a breath, let it out, and then turned in her direction. “How are your vegetables?”

  She gave him a look that said he was an idiot. “Quite tasty, and yours?”

  He nodded. “They’re verra good.”

  He missed Lizzie chattering at him, and didn’t like the stilted way they were speaking to each other. He took another breath and let it out slowly. “Lizzie —”

  “It’s Lady Elizabeth, to you.”

  His brows rose. Tell a girl you loved her, and it was like taking a step backward? He definitely didn’t know the rules of courtship. He tried yet again to think of a conversational gambit. This was so much easier to do in letters. There he’d always told stories of his day, his men, and Lizzie had responded to each and every one with enthusiasm.

  He blew out a breath. The things he did to capture her attention. “Lady Elizabeth, then. I dinnae believe I ever told ye about a man under my command, by the name of Sam Ralston?”

  “No, I don’t believe you did.”

  He was gratified to see interest in her gaze.

  “He was one of the best men I knew. He was Scottish, a private in the Army without much hope of advancement. Too many men had bought commissions for their sons, and we had an excess of leadership.”

  Her interest was definitely caught. Never let it be said he didn’t know his own lass. Well-pleased by her response, he continued.

  “Anyway, one day Sam came to me, and wanted to lead the next charge. I knew him to be well-liked, and a good man in a fight, and so I said he could stand to my left when the order came to advance.”

  Alexander couldn’t help but smile at the memory. “Weel, the order came and before any of us could move, Sam had rushed over the top of the hill, leading the way. The man was a wonder. He fought so well, he inspired the rest of us to greater passion, and we beat the adversary back in record time.”

  Alexander shook his head. “I can still remember him chasing after the enemy at the end, blood dripping down his arm, and yelling furiously after the retreating forces.”

  He had Lizzie’s full attention now.

  “After we’d arrived back to camp, cleaned everyone up, stitched wounds, and gathered about the fire, we were all astounded by the fact that we didnae lose one soldier that day.”

  Once again he was gratified he held her full attention. “Sam was a hero in the men’s eyes after that. They considered him lucky, and would often rub the top of his head when going off to battle.”

  He realized everyone at the table was listening to the story now, but Lizzie’s was the only reaction he was interested in.

  “Whatever happened to him?” Lizzie asked.

  Alexander grinned at her. “He was awarded the rank of cornet and carried the troop flag thereafter. I’ve no doubt he’ll go far.”

  She was smiling now. “So, he changed his destiny.”

  “He did. ’Tis amazing how a man filled with purpose, and passion, can change his path in life.”

  “Here, here!” Drake exclaimed. “To Captain Sam Ralston!”

  Everyone raised their glasses to the man and drank.

  After everyone had gone back to conversing, Alexander lowered his tone. “I told ye that story, because Sam reminds me of ye a lot.”

  “How so?”

  “You’re determined to forge your own path in life, Lizzie. Something within ye burns to break free.”

  She met his gaze for a long moment, before dropping her gaze to her plate once more.

  “I want ye to forge your own destiny, Lizzie. I just hope that when ’tis all said and done, ye want me at your side while ye do it.

  He gazed into her eyes. “Once, ye didn’t have a choice. Ye do now, and I hope that, like Sam, ye’ll figure out exactly what ye want, and then dive in, no matter the limitations ye felt fettered by in the past.”

  She wasn’t looking at him, but he knew she was listening.

  “Lizzie, I hope when it’s all said and done, that now that ye have a choice, this time you’ll choose me.”

  As the conversation around the table continued, Lizzie slowly lifted her gaze to his, her eyes filled with emotion.

  She reached over and touched his hand with hers, just a light brush, and opened her mouth to respond —

  “Mr. Noah Russell, you say?” Lizzie’s father exclaimed, looking up at the footman. “What the devil is he doing here?” He sighed. “Well, invite him in. Set another place. I’m starting to wonder
why we ever go to London for the season. It looks as if, if we stay home, the season will come to us.”

  ~~~

  Mr. Russell was here?

  It didn’t take too much to guess what he was doing here.

  He’d no doubt come for his answer.

  She went to remove her hand from Alexander’s, but in a swift move, he captured her hand in his and held it tight.

  Startled, she glanced up at Alexander, to see a fierce expression on his face.

  Oh. Dear.

  It looked like his jealousy was back in full force.

  A moment later, Mr. Russell came into the room his eyes darting directly to Lizzie, and then to her hand clasped tight within Alexander’s.

  She could feel heat rising to her face, though she’d done nothing wrong.

  Mr. Russell gave her father a slight bow. “Forgive me. I certainly didn’t mean to intrude during the dinner hour.”

  Her father stood, his chair scraping against the hardwood floor. “Do not concern yourself, sir. You are most welcome here. Please join us.” He indicated a chair at the end of the table where a place setting was being hastily laid.

  “Thank you.”

  Lizzie tugged on the hand held by Alexander. “Sir, I will need my hand back in order to eat my dinner,” she tugged once more.

  When she glanced up at him, he finally let her go.

  His face was impassive, but she knew he was frustrated. And how did she know? Because she knew this man, had known him as a boy, had known him through his letters, and had been reacquainted with him recently.

  She glanced up and met Mr. Russell’s gaze and offered him a smile. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him what he was doing in the area, but she was actually afraid he might tell everyone the truth, so she asked instead, “Were the roads from London clear today, sir?”

  “Yes, it was a good day to ride.”

  She could practically feel the heat radiating off of Alexander at her side, and tried to think of a way to diffuse the situation.

  There must not be one person at the table unaware that Mr. Russell was here to see her, and that everyone here was hoping she and Alexander would repair their relationship.

  “Are you staying in the area, Mr. Russell?” Mother asked.

  “At the Inn down the road. The Black Swan, I believe.”