Lizzie entered the carriage after a long evening at the party.

She sat across from her parents, and her father quickly tapped the ceiling to let the driver know to go.

They both stared at her in the gloom and she could tell they weren’t happy with her.

“What?”

“Don’t you what me, young lady.” Her father sounded angry, and since that was a rare occurrence, she was surprised.

“I don’t understand. What’s the matter?”

As her father made a harrumphing sound in his throat, her mother leaned forward to place a hand on her knee. “Lizzie. Your intended shows up after an absence of eight years. He’s a war hero, is well thought of, well connected, and after a five-minute conversation, you ignored him the rest of the evening.”

“He could have sought me out if he’d the desire to,” Lizzie said indignantly.

“I do believe everyone thought you drove him away with your sharp tongue. Did you?”

Again, the question was gentle, and she felt heat bloom in her cheeks. “Well, perhaps I did. But I can’t believe he put a notice about our marriage in the paper before we’d even had a chance to talk.”

“To talk about what?” Her father wanted to know.

“To talk about the fact that we might not suit after all, regardless of what our parents think.”

Her father sounded like he was strangling.

“Oh, Lizzie.” Mother’s disappointment was hard to take.

“What?”

“Why do you fight this? He’s a wonderful catch. Don’t think I didn’t notice, and I’m sure you did as well, that when he showed up tonight, he set more than one girl’s heart fluttering.”

“Not mine.”

“Not yours?”

Again, the censure in her mother’s voice shamed her.

“Lizzie, is it so important that you choose? He’s a good, honorable man, with money and properties of his own. I noticed you talking to that cowboy tonight, and the rumor around town is that he’s looking for a wealthy bride. Would you rather end up with him?”

“At least the choice would be mine, wouldn’t it? Anyway, Alexander is getting a wealthy bride. What’s the difference?”

“We know his family.” Her father finally found his voice. “Know you’ll be safe. Cared for. Do you want to go off to live in the wilds of America to be scalped by Indians? And as your parents, what? We sit back and watch you be unhappy all your days, simply because you’re a headstrong girl that wishes to have her own choice? Would you like me to tell you stories of girls who have gone down that path? Perhaps we don’t know their names anymore, because they now live lives of quiet desperation, and not the lives their parents had hoped for them.”

“All right, already. What is this? It’s either Alexander, or I marry a gold digger who is to make me miserable for the rest of my life? There are no more choices here?”

Both of her parents fell silent.

“Look, I know you love me, and I know you want what’s best for me. Perhaps that’s not Alexander.”

“And perhaps it is!” Her father said angrily. “Did you never think to give the man we’d approved of a chance? You’re simply to cast him aside without so much as getting to know him? Why? Because your parents made the choice rather than yourself? For shame, girl.”

Tears filled Lizzie’s eyes. “All right! I’ll give him a chance.”

Her father wanted to say something more, but her mother stilled him with a hand to his arm.

“Thank you, Lizzie. That’s all we ask.”

It wasn’t all they asked, and she knew it.

“I think perhaps a letter of apology is in order?”

“Another one?”

“Just so,” Mother said firmly.

Fine. She’d write him another letter. “Sure, Mama. The moment we arrive home.”

***

When Alexander woke the next morning, he wasn’t in a good mood. Partially because he had drunk to excess the night before with his friend, and partly because he immediately remembered that his hopeful reunion with Lizzie hadn’t turned out well at all.

It was early, as old habits died hard, even when he stayed up late.

He went downstairs to find Mrs. Black setting up breakfast. She heard him come in and glanced over her shoulder. “Good morning, Captain MacGregor.”

He headed to the front of the table, where a place setting was already laid. This townhouse had been in the family since his father bought it as a young man. He wasn’t used to taking his father’s spot yet, but sank down in the chair where Mrs. Black had laid a place for him, anyway.

There were six letters lying beside his plate, and he quickly looked through them. Most looked to be invitations to events in the next few days. But one he recognized as Lizzie’s handwriting and he snatched the letter directly out of the pile. He broke the wax seal and opened it.

Dearest Alexander

Apparently, my mother and father believe I owe you an apology for my behavior last night. Apparently I was to hang on your arm, and perhaps dance every dance with you and scandalize everyone. I think that would have been about the only thing that would have satisfied my parents.

He chuckled.

No matter. As I promised them most faithfully on the carriage ride home, I am writing you a letter of extreme apology. Apparently my actions of the evening are so horrid, that neither parent wants to own up to having anything to do with me.

You, of course, walk on water.

He laughed.

Hopefully this humble letter of apology will be acceptable by one so exalted as yourself. Honestly, I can hardly believe the dreadful way that I treated you.

My apologies, good sir. I see now I shouldn’t have been upset in the least over the fact that you didn’t consult me prior to announcing our engagement to the world.

I see now that I should not have been offended by the way you didn’t bother to call on me once you appeared at home. And of course it was perfectly acceptable that you chose to spring the trap on me, so to speak, and have our reunion in front of dozens of witnesses. My apologies. Heaven forbid I should desire to choose my own future.

I hope you understand, dear sir, the true nature of how I feel. How appalled I am, how disgusted. Yes, I am practically on my knees, begging your forgiveness.

I’m sure you won’t be able to forgive me, however. And it would not surprise me in the least if you feel the need to break off our engagement. I would understand if you cannot find it in your heart to excuse my ghastly behavior.

In fact, I truly don’t see how you could.

So, if you cannot find it within your heart to forgive me, feel free to refrain from doing so.

Yours truly, in repentance, Frizzy Lizzie.

P.S. I loathe you.

 

Alexander laughed aloud when he finished reading the letter, his spirits restored. He quickly ate his breakfast, laid out three different paths he could take in response to this, settled on the one most likely to give him the result he wanted, and finally stood.

Mayhap his second meeting with his intended would go better.

***

The next morning Lizzie went down to breakfast. After the talk her parents had given her the night before, she’d come to a few conclusions.

One, she didn’t want to be strong-armed into marrying Alexander MacGregor. Two, maybe she needed to at least give a relationship a chance. And three, if it didn’t work out, talk Alexander into breaking the engagement so she wouldn’t become a pariah. He obviously didn’t give a fig for what the ton thought.

She went into the dining room, and, just as she suspected, her mother and father were waiting for her.

“Good morning.” She said the words brightly, determined to be both cheerful and calm so her parents would have nothing to complain about.

She took her seat and placed her napkin on her lap as the maid hurried forward with tea and a plate of scrambled eggs and ham, her preferred breakfast in the morning. She glanced up in time to see her mother and father exchange a look. Yes, she knew they were discussing her, but that was their issue and not hers.

Mother, her red hair gleaming in a shaft of morning sunlight, gently cleared her throat. “Lizzie, you have been mentioned in The Morning Post today.”

Now that caught her attention. “May I?” She held out her hand, and her mother pushed the paper toward her and she snatched it up. “What did it say?”

Mother, dressed in a demure yellow morning gown, glanced down at her breakfast, suddenly unwilling to meet her gaze. “I think I’ll let you read it yourself.”

Lizzie quickly turned to the society pages. She skimmed the paper until she found her name, then slowed down and read the entry.

According to several sources, Lady Elizabeth Huntington and Captain Alexander MacGregor, Laird of Inverdeem, met up after an absence of many years. As many might recall, the two have been betrothed since the day Lady Elizabeth was born. After seeing them together the night before, and watching Lady Elizabeth practically swoon at his appearance, the word is that it looks to be a love match after all.

“Swoon!” She slapped the paper down. “I’ve never swooned in my entire life! And I certainly didn’t come close when I met up with Alexander last night!”

Mother made a tsking sound and shook her head. “Of course not, my darling.”

Lizzie quickly started reading again. This time she read aloud.

“This is perhaps the most anxiously anticipated wedding ever, mostly due to the longevity of the engagement. The fact that it will also be a wedding of passionate souls makes it all the more exciting for those of us who get to observe, and perhaps be invited to the nuptials.”

“What a bunch of hogwash!”

“Lizzie, language.”

Lizzie spun the paper away and it slid across the polished surface to land on one of the plush chairs on the other side.

Mother continued to look sympathetic, but she could tell her father was laughing into his tea, while trying to hide it. “Father!”

He set his tea down, his graying mustache twitching. “I’m sorry, Lizzie, but I have to say it. Methinks the lady doth protest too much.” Her father smiled, and Lizzie stood abruptly, her chair wobbling slightly even as a footman rushed forward to steady it.

“I find I’m not very hungry this morning after all.”

At that, her father laughed outright. “I suppose that’s to be expected, my dear. What with the passionate meeting of last night and all.”

Without another word she spun on her heel and left the room.

She didn’t care what anyone else thought. When the two of them were no longer engaged, everyone would find out just how wrong they had been.

***

It was time to woo his betrothed.

The thought of his reluctant bride gave Alexander a spurt of energy, and he hurried up the stairs. He’d written his own letter to Lizzie the night before and was anxious to deliver it.

His valet, Gibbs, helped him get ready. “May I say that you are in a good mood today, Captain?”

“I am.”

“Might I ask about your plans for the day, so I can help you choose a hat?”

“I am going tae go and see my intended this morn.”

“Ah. Very good, sir.”

He finished dressing, shaved, and headed down to have a quick breakfast.

With the letter in his pocket, he walked toward the Huntington home, which was about fifteen minutes away.

He was glad of the exercise. The last few days he hadn’t been nearly as active as was his wont. On the way, he saw a flower vendor, and quickly purchased a bundle. He didn’t know if they would help, but they certainly couldn’t hurt.

He arrived at the Huntington home, a nice townhouse in a good section of the town. He knocked on the door, and when a butler answered, handed over his card. Within moments, he was ushered into a parlor, and Lady Huntington came in to join him.

“Captain MacGregor. How wonderful of you to come by this morning.”

“’Tis probably not the accepted time, so I must apologize.”

She made a sound of denial, waved a hand in the air, and smiled as she took a seat. “Please, be seated.”

Flipping up his tailcoat, he did so. “I’m hoping to see Elizabeth this morning.”

Lady Huntington motioned the maid forward. “Will you please tell Elizabeth that she has a guest?”

The maid hurried away.

“I suppose you saw the newspaper this morning?”

“I haven’t. Why?”

“Oh dear. Well, somebody made much ado over the fact that the two of you had met up again after years of being parted, calling it a passionate love match, I believe.”

He grinned. “One can only hope.”

She laughed again, and Alexander was distracted by her looks. Again, he remembered his father telling him to look to the mother if you wished to know what the daughter would look like. The woman must be in her forties by now, but she still had red hair, shining eyes, and perfect skin.

Again satisfaction settled within him. He might not have chosen Lizzie himself, but his parents had chosen well.

The maid came back a moment later to inform them that Elizabeth was indisposed.

Lady Huntington’s lips pressed together. “I see.” She glanced at Alexander. “If you’ll just excuse me, I will go have a talk with my daughter.”

“Is her bedroom still in the same location?”

She smiled at him. “That’s right. You spent two weeks with us every other summer, sometimes at this house. I suppose you know every nook and cranny of the place.”

“That, I do.” He grinned.

She hesitated. “I probably shouldn’t let you …”

He stood. “I’ll take full responsibility.”

Before she could say another word, he was out the door and running up the stairs. He had spent a lot of time here as a youth, and there had been quite a bit of exploring. He knew exactly where Elizabeth’s room was and, flowers in hand, he headed in that direction.

When he stood outside the door, he hesitated, then knocked sharply three times.

A dog barked on the other side, and Alexander couldn’t help but wonder if it was the one they’d found together.

Within seconds, he had his answer as the door swung wide. He glanced down at the little white dog, and then up to meet Elizabeth’s startled gaze. “You still have him.”

Flustered, she glanced down at the dog, and then at him.

Alexander knelt to pet the animal. “I cannae believe he’s still alive after all these years!”

“I’ve mentioned him in my letters to you.”

“That ye have, lass. Only he’s getting so old now, I wondered if he might be gone. Ye haven’t mentioned him in quite some time.”

“Well, he’s still here. What are you doing outside my door?”

He stood and thrust the flowers at her. “These are for ye.”

“Is that a joke?”

He looked down at the flowers. “What? Ye dinnae like the colors?

“Marigold for sorrow, and lavender for distrust? What are you trying to say exactly?”

He stared blankly at the flowers once more. “I … I wasnae trying to say aught. I just thought ye might like the colors. Can I come in?”

She looked startled.

He held up the flowers again. “Do ye have a vase or something we can put these in?”

“Captain MacGregor, of course you can’t come into my bedroom. What would my parents think?”

Feeling impatient, he used his shoulder to push the door wide, and strode in like he had many times before. The last time he’d been there he’d been fifteen years old, but he remembered the place well.

“Alexander!”

He turned and grinned at her. “It’s good to hear ye say my name. I was afraid ye had forgotten it.”

“As if I could.” Her tone was disgruntled, and it made him laugh out loud.

He glanced about the room, noted the scarves, silks, and many feminine touches about the place, and decided that he liked it. He would enjoy being married.

“Alexander! You’re not supposed to be in here.”

He turned and looked at her where she stood by the door, her arms crossed, her chin lifted, her expression belligerent.

She was a difficult woman. But he decided he liked that about her. “Ye know that a betrothal is practically a marriage.”

“It is not.”

“That being the case, many would already consider ye my wife. We just haven’t taken that final step.”

She snorted and moved away from the door. “And what’s that? Just that tiny little inconvenience called standing in front of a priest?”

She crossed over to her dresser drawer, and pulled out a slightly bedraggled cheroot. She played with it as she looked at him, no doubt hoping for horror or disgust.

“I didnae realize that ye smoke?”

“I told you that I did in my letters.”

She tugged a spill from a jar and leaned down to light it in the fire.

He moved forward, taking it from her. “Allow me.”

He held the burning paper as she lit the cheroot, watching as she pulled in a mouthful of smoke, and grinning when she started to cough.

She waved her hand in the air to try to dissipate the smoke, then quickly seemed to change her mind, and set it down on her desk. She reached into the bottom of one of her drawers and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. “Can I offer you some?”

“’Tis a bit early in the day for me, but feel free to help yourself.”

“Oh, I will. Don’t worry about that.”

Fascinated, he watched as she pulled out a glass and filled it. She took a sip and started to choke. He knew what she was doing. She was trying to get out of marrying him, or more to the point, trying to get him to decide he did not want to marry her. “I’m glad to see ye dinnae have the prissy reluctance of some women I’ve heard of. My own mother smoked and drank all through my childhood, and still does to this day. The two of ye will get along just fine.”

“Your mother never smoked a day in her life!”

He laughed, enjoying her company more than he’d even thought he would, and his hopes in that area had been high.

With a scathing glance at him, she threw the cheroot into the embers just as there was a knock on the open door.

“Oh, Mama, I’m glad you’re here. Alexander forced his way inside, something about the fact that we’re practically married.”

A quick glance at the two of them, and then at the whiskey sitting on the dresser and the smoke wafting in the air, and her mother crossed her arms. “I think the two of you should probably go outside. Perhaps a walk in the park would be a good idea?”

Elizabeth crossed the room and grabbed a pretty white shawl from off the hook. “That seems like a fine idea. Thank you for the suggestion, Mama.”

Alexander followed Lizzie out of her room, down the hall, down the stairs, and outside. When they reached the sidewalk Alexander offered his arm. For a moment he thought she was going to refuse him, then she seemed to change her mind and settled her hand in the crook of his arm.

The two of them headed for the park, a place they been many times in their youth. Elizabeth didn’t seem to have anything to say, so it was up to him to start the conversation.

“I’m sorry ye didnae like the flowers.”

“I do like the flowers, actually. It was the meaning behind them that was suspect.”

Contrary woman. “’Tis a nice day out.”

No response from her.

“Not too hot, not too cold, a good day for a walk in the park.”

Again she didn’t respond and it only amused him. “I suppose we should talk about setting a date?”

At that, she turned and glared. “I don’t want to marry you.”

His chest stabbed on a spurt of pain. Well, that was blunt enough. He supposed he could do no more than return the favor. “I do want to marry ye, however,” he said gruffly.

“But why?”

He vacillated between telling her what he thought she might wish to hear, and telling her his own truth. He’d long ago come to terms with the fact that she was his future wife. That he liked the thought of it. And that the letters that they’d written to each other over the years had only cemented his feelings and bound him to her. “I think we will do verra well together,” was all he said. He didn’t truly think he wished to lay his heart out on the line when the lady was so desperate to stomp on it.

“How can you want this? You said horrible things about me.”

That captured his attention. “What? When?”

“The last time I saw you.”

Frankly, he couldn’t remember what he’d said. “I apologized.” He did remember that.

“When?”

He gaped, wondering how to appease her over an incident that happened in their youth. “I suppose, when my mother made me.”

“That doesn’t count!”

“Weel, ye told me that ye loathed me. On and off for years!”

“I do. Sometimes.”

“Ye said that I was a bad kisser!”

“You were!”

Finally, his temper was pricked. “And what would ye know of kisses? Who have ye been kissing to make such a comparison?”

“Everyone! I’ve kissed everyone I’ve ever had the chance to kiss. And I’d wager you’ve been doing the same.”

After she said the words, she glanced around, as if realizing they had an audience on the busy London streets who might overhear her words.

He took her arm, turned around and headed back toward her house.

“What are you doing?”

It was his turn to ignore her.

They quickly made their way back to the stairs, and he marched her up to the top and threw open the door and gave her a slight shove inside.

Without so much as a word of goodbye, he turned and left.

He was not going to let her drive him crazy, but he was angry. So the best thing he could do was leave.