by Diane Darcy
“That is a good establishment,” her father announced. “They have some of the best in ale in the shire.”
Noah nodded. “I’ll have to try it while I’m there, my lord.”
The awkwardness soon passed, and the next course was served, and conversation became normal once more.
Lizzie turned to her sister on her right. “Mary, I do believe that’s a new gown you’re wearing. Did you get it in London?”
Mary was no fool, and her gaze slid between the two men, before she answered. “Why, yes, at Mrs. Putman’s. I believe you ordered a gown or two from her yourself?”
“I did.” Lizzie then threw herself into conversing about dresses, fripperies, and where to get the best shoes. It was much better than the alternative — conversing with Alexander or Noah.
Fortunately, neither man tried to engage her in conversation again, and when the men left to go drink port and the ladies retired to the drawing room, Lizzie was relieved.
The moment the door was closed, both her mother and Alexander’s converged upon her. “Why would Mr. Russell follow you here from London, Lizzie?” her mother demanded.
Nothing like putting her on the spot in front of the woman who expected to be her future mother-in-law.
“I have no idea, Mother.” The words were slightly belligerent, as she felt her mother deserved nothing less.
Seeming to realize it, Mother nodded, and then took her seat and started a lively conversation with Lady MacGregor.
Mary paid them no attention, and wandered over to Lizzie, who was staring out the window. “What in the world do you think is going on?”
Lizzie glanced over her shoulder at the two women, and shrugged. “I’m sure I don’t know. I certainly didn’t invite him here. In fact, I didn’t invite either one of them. So how do I find myself in this awkward situation?”
Mary, grinned, her dark hair gleaming in the lamplight. “Well, it might be awkward for you, but it’s quite amusing for the rest of us.”
She glanced back again at the two women, her brows raised. “Do you think so?”
Mary’s gazed flicked to the two mothers. “Well, you have a point. But Matthew and I will be well entertained.”
“I’m glad I still have some value in your eyes,” Lizzie said dryly.
“Shall we play a game of whist?” Mother called out.
The fact that the game would take a while, and that the men would eventually come in to join them, had Lizzie nodding the affirmative, glad of an occupation. “Yes, please. That sounds wonderful.”
Relieved, she took a seat.
If she had her way, she’d not be moving from it for the rest of the night.
~~~
Alexander was angry, agitated.
Drinking port with Drake, Lizzie’s father, and Noah Russell was the last thing he wanted to be doing.
What he wanted to do was haul Mr. Russell outside, throw him on his horse, slap the animal on the rump, and send the man to Hades.
Alexander glared out the window. What did Russell think he was doing here? Had Lizzie indicated to him that she would welcome his advances? Or was the man so desperate for an heiress bride that he would show up here unannounced?
Of course, Lizzie wasn’t just any heiress bride. She was lively, beautiful, witty, and everything else a man could want in a wife.
So the man wanted it all, did he?
He wanted what was rightfully Alexander’s.
Because, Lizzie was his. She always had been, and she always would be.
He found his resolve hardening.
Aye, he was here to coax her, to romance her, and to gently guide her to his way of thinking.
But faced with competition, especially from a man he knew she had tender feelings for, his desire to treat her with kid gloves flew right out the window.
He couldn’t get rid of the man without violence, and he knew he couldn’t take that route. Because if he touched the other man, Lizzie would fly to Russell’s side to offer him aid.
So if he couldn’t get rid of the men with violence, he found his instinct was to bundle Lizzie up, and spirit her away.
He glanced over at Drake, who seemed to be watching him carefully.
As a statistician, Alexander knew when to advance, and when to retreat.
This situation felt to him like it was time to arm himself, sound the drums, and ready for attack.
The battle prize was Lizzie’s heart, and Alexander had every intention of emerging the victor.
Time to come up with a new strategy.
~~~
Just as she predicted, when the men joined them later, playing cards with the ladies became an optimal defense.
Alexander hovered near her, like a dog guarding a bone.
She knew he wouldn’t appreciate the analogy, but there it was.
Mr. Russell seemed to be taking the tactic of entertaining everyone with stories of Texas. She also knew what he was doing. He was trying to make it sound romantic and thrilling — a place rife with adventure.
She had certainly never seen herself in a situation such as this.
She gone from feeling slightly unattractive with her brassy red hair, freckles, and her mud-brown eyes — to a temptress wanted by two men.
Regardless of the fact that Alexander might only want her because he didn’t accept change easily, and Mr. Russell might only want her because he needed some money poured into his holdings in Texas, she still felt slightly irresistible.
It was nice to feel wanted, for whatever reason.
Lizzie lay down her cards, and Lady MacGregor let out a whoop of excitement.
“We won! We won the game!”
Lizzie smiled at lady MacGregor’s lack of humility. The woman had never been a gracious winner. Or a good loser, for that matter.
She glanced back at Alexander, wondering if he’d inherited the trait from his mother.
“Well, that’s it for me,” Lady MacGregor scooted her chair back. “The rest of you might be used to keeping London hours; I however am not. I’m for bed.”
Lizzie saw her chance to escape, and quickly stood. “I’m tired as well. I think I will call it a night.”
Alexander was quick to take her arm. “If I might walk ye to the stairs, Lizzie.”
So much for calling her Lady Elizabeth. Not that he would in front of the other man. No doubt he wished to firmly establish their familiarity.
No doubt he wanted to rub the other man’s face in it.
She almost told him there was no need, but knew he’d press the issue. “Thank you, Captain MacGregor.” She emphasized his name.
She was grateful Mr. Russell did not try to follow them. When they reached the bottom of the staircase, Alexander whispered fiercely, “Did ye invite him here?”
“No, I did not.”
“Why would he follow ye here if he didnae feel welcome.”
“What? I’m a mind-reader now? I think you’d better rephrase that question.”
“Fine, I will. Is there something going on between ye and Mr. Russell?”
She stared at him for long moment and then lifted one shoulder. That small gesture set his temperature rising before she even responded with, “Not at this time.”
“Not ever,” he said fiercely.
~~~
She jerked her elbow out of his grasp, and he watched her walk up the stairs. When she was at the top, he couldn’t stand it any longer, and followed her.
She made it all the way to her bedroom, before he caught up with her. “Lizzie!”
With a gasp, she turned around. “What do you think you’re doing?” She glanced around. “You can’t come up here.”
He took a deep breath, and then pushed her into her bedroom, shut the door, and then backed against it.
Shock held her immobile in the center of the room. Her mouth was agape. “Alexander! What do you think you’re doing?”
His jaw clenched. He wasn’t sure himself. “Staking a claim.”
Before he’d ev
en realized he intended to do it, he crossed the room, hauled her into his arms, and pressed his mouth to hers.
She struggled for a moment, and then all at once, gave in, and clutched him as tightly as he held her. Her arms wrapped around his neck, as they shared frantic kisses, one after the other.
His hands grasped her hips and he pulled her tight against him.
She was his, and he wanted her to know it.
What had to be minutes later, he finally lifted his head and looked down at her, satisfaction rising within him at the sight of her plump, well-kissed lips. “Lizzie, ye are mine, do ye ken?” his voice was a deep rumble. “I’m not going to let you go. Ye can have one suitor, ten, fifty, or one hundred show up hoping for your hand in marriage, and none will make a difference.”
He gripped her shoulders and gave her a little shake. “Ye’ve been mine since the day ye were born, but I’ve also been yours. Do ye not ken that? Does that mean naught tae you?”
He could see that it did, as her face softened, gentled. She lifted a hand to cup his jaw. “Why did you tell me that you loved me earlier?”
Unable to help himself, he swooped in for another long kiss. When he lifted his head, he told her, “Because I do, Lizzie. How could I help it?”
Chapter Thirteen
Lizzie shook her head and tried to will back tears that were threatening to fall. “But why? Why would you say that after all these years? Do you remember what you said to me that last day? How you thought I was ugly and you didn’t want to marry me?”
He turned to pace away and ran a hand over his face. “I do remember that. I did say that. And I’m sorry that you’ve forgotten everything else of our years together but that last conversation.”
She felt defensive all of a sudden. “What do you mean?”
He took a breath. “I remember being a moody, sullen, sixteen year old. I also remember the years that came before.”
She stared at him, feeling mesmerized. “What do you remember?”
“The time I sunk one foot in the bog, and you helped me get out by laying a log across two bits of land, but then I lost my boot.”
She couldn’t help the grin that tugged at her lips. “You were worried that you’d get the belt if you came back without your boot, and so I was worried for you.”
“Yes. And then we spent the entire afternoon digging for the thing, finally retrieved it, and the leather was mushy from the bog. So we washed both boots in the water, and then I earned the belt anyway, for ruining the things.”
“I thought you were brave.”
“What? Screaming like a lad?”
“You didn’t scream. Not once. You didn’t even cry.”
He grinned. “Well, I couldnae in front of you, could I? To tell ye the truth, I cried in my bed that night.”
“I heard you.”
Dropping his head, he made a scoffing noise and looked adorably embarrassed.
“I haven’t forgotten everything,” she said.
“Have you not?”
“Fluffy is probably my favorite memory.”
“The blasted dog that bit me?”
She couldn’t help but smile. “You were so brave that day.”
Now he really was blushing. “Go on with ye.”
She stared at him, seeing a side of him that she didn’t know existed. Or didn’t remember. “When we found her on the side of the road, with her leg broken, I thought she was done for. But even though she bit you, you wrapped her in your shirt, and took her home, and bound her leg. Did you know that she didn’t even limp after the binding came off?”
“I did know. From yer letters.”
“I always thought it was amazing, that you took a dog that was at death’s door, carried her, then treated her, and that she’s lived a long, happy life since.”
He finally turned to look at her, probably because of the emotion in her voice.
“I thought …” she swallowed. “That day, I mean. That day, was the first time that I thought you’d make me a good husband.”
His expression turned incredulous. “Lizzie …” He reached for her, but she backed away.
“So, yes. Sometimes I did think of the times that we had together as children. It was just … I also thought about what you said. The fact that you were attracted to a certain type of girl, and that I could never be that type or that girl.”
“What girl?”
“Agatha.”
“Who?”
“Agatha! The girl you thought was so beautiful!”
“Lizzie … I was sixteen years old. She was the girl I thought was beautiful that week. I don’t even remember what she looked like!” He turned away, exasperated, and then turned back to her. “But I’ve had years — literally years — to think about ye. To think about how ye might have filled out. To think about what the funny, thoughtful girl on the other end of those letters would look like. Because you know what? The girl in those letters? She’s the one I’ve been obsessed with for years. Do ye ken how many nights I lay in bed and wondered about ye? Do ye know how many times I’ve woken with your name on my lips? Don’t tell me about some lass I had a momentary fancy for when I was a young boy.”
He took a step closer to her and she couldn’t catch her breath, didn’t know where to look. He crowded her up against the desk, until she couldn’t move back any further, and he was pressed up against her.
Her heart thundered as he took her hands, and put them on his chest. She sucked in a breath.
“Do you know,” his voice had deepened even further. “That since the moment that I saw you at the Somerset Ball, ye’ve entranced me?” He lowered his head, to whisper against her ear. “Obsessed me. Left me yearning for you, and wanting another taste of you.”
His mouth moved from her ear, to hover in front of her lips. “There is nae other girl but you. There never has been.”
“Alexander.” She turned her head away, her voice faint. “I always knew I was to marry you. And so I gave you my heart when we were children.”
He breathed out heavily. “And then I crushed it, didn’t I?”
She considered lying to spare his feelings, but then decided that she was this far in, so she might as well tell him the truth. “Yes, you did.”
He spun her around and sat on the desk and pulled her between his legs. “I wish I could go back to that moment. I wish I could grab that young boy by the scruff of his neck and give him a good shake. I’m sorry that I hurt you, lass. Just know that I will do everything in my power to make sure that nothing, and no one, ever hurts you again. Myself included.”
Slowly, in increments, she rested against him until, finally, she nodded, and lay her cheek against his chest.
“You’ll give me your trust again?”
She nodded once more.
With that, he bent and kissed her. A brush of heat against her lips, a silky caress as she strained upward against him, his mouth taking hers as he pulled her tight against him as if he couldn’t get her close enough.
When he finally lifted his head, he gazed down at her, and seemed satisfied by whatever he saw.
“Let’s make some new memories, Lizzie. Even better ones.” His voice deepened, was huskier.
She nodded, as she tried, once again, to catch her breath.
~~~
Alexander wanted to say more, to stay, but footsteps started down the hall, and Lizzie’s face took on a panicked expression. “You need to go! Get out of here!”
She rushed to the window and threw it open, and then rounded him to push him toward it. “Do you remember how?”
“Of course.” They had escaped through her window on more than one occasion when they been children.
He hurried out the window, and stood on the ledge, his hand gripping the ivy, as he lowered a leg to the windowsill on the floor below. He stopped, and looked up at her.
She gazed down at him, her expression softer than it had been toward him since they were children.
He grinned up at her. “’
Tis going be all right, Lizzie. We’re going to make this work.” She turned, spoke to someone behind her, and then carefully shut the window.
He watched her until she was out of sight, and then carefully climbed the rest of the way down.
He licked his lips. He could still feel her mouth against his, still taste her sweetness.
Following her to her bedroom and kissing her senseless certainly had not been a part of his strategy. He grinned slowly. But it worked.
Mayhap, he needed to stop being such a stickler, learn to unbend a bit, to improvise.
~~~
Lizzie lay in bed later that night and when she’d touched her mouth for the fifth time, remembering Alexander’s kiss, she let out a growl of frustration.
She needed to stop thinking about his kisses.
She chuckled, suddenly remembering Alexander’s disgruntlement when he’d reminded her that she once said his kiss was revolting.
She hadn’t known when she was fourteen years old what she was missing.
She chuckled again. She hadn’t been disgusted tonight, had she? In fact, her feelings were quite the opposite.
She was going to marry him, wasn’t she?
At the thought, the rightness of it seemed to settle within her, excitement.
Alexander was correct. They had always belonged to each other. She suddenly wished he were in the house, down the hall, where he used to sleep when they were children.
She found she wanted to talk to him, wished to know how he felt about the situation, about her.
She regretted the fact they’d been interrupted earlier.
He’d been about to make some sort of declaration; she was sure of it.
She touched her lips once more, deliberately this time, and then turned on her side, settled more deeply into her pillow, and sighed.
Perhaps, just perhaps, everything would work out just fine.
~~~
The next morning, Alexander knocked on the door at precisely nine in the morning.
Lord Huntington was a stickler who kept country hours, and breakfast was to be served precisely on time.
As he was escorted into the house by Faraday, Lizzie was just coming down the stairs.
He hurried forward to meet her. “Good morning.” Was his voice deeper than usual? He cleared his throat and, anxious to touch her, offered his hand to her as she walked down the last three steps.