By the time Alexander dropped her off, she could barely look at him.

She hurried up the steps to her house and turned to him. “Thank you for a wonderful day.”

“Thank ye for going with me.”

She nodded at him, and hurried inside and shut the door.

Mother came out of the parlor. “Lizzie, whatever had you gone so long?”

She’d been going to let Alexander field that question, but as she’d left him on the other side of the door, she’d have to come up with her own excuses. “Oh, we just became caught up in conversation. We decided to go to the bookstore, and went for lemon ice, as well.”

Mother seemed to consider what to say, and then her face softened. “Oh. Well, I suppose that’s all right, then.”

At age twenty and three, Lizzie was used to her mother monitoring her every move, especially when they were in London. So the fact that her mother was being so lenient, and so obvious, made her want to laugh.

“You’re sure?” she asked her mother. “I mean, we were gone for a long time. If you feel the need to punish me, or reprimand me, I will completely understand. In fact, Alexander is supposed to take me out again tomorrow, but perhaps I should send a note telling him it’s not all right?”

Mother waved a hand in the air and her smile said she knew exactly what Lizzie was doing. “Oh, no. It’s fine. It’s all fine.” With a satisfied smile, her mother turned and walked back into the parlor. Lizzie slowly went up the stairs, and into her room. Once she arrived, she dropped her reticule on the bed, and sat down in front of her mirror. She gazed at herself, and was horrified to realize her lips were slightly swollen, and reddened.

She slowly put her fingers to her lips, remembering their kisses in vivid detail, and also realizing her mother must have known she’d been kissing Alexander!

She stood, overturning the chair. “Oh, dear lord!” Horror had both hand flying to cover her mouth as she spun away from the mirror. Looking this way and that, she finally threw herself on the bed and started to giggle.

Apparently, something that with any other man would have gotten her the switch, even at this age, was all right with Alexander.

No wonder her mother had looked so self-satisfied as she’d gone back into the parlor.

Lizzie pressed her face into the coverlet. What was she feeling? Embarrassed? Humiliated? Happy? Excited?

As always, Alexander seemed able to engender a range of emotions in her that she hadn’t even realized she harbored.

Perhaps, as Mrs. Trimble had said, she was meant for him? Why was she fighting it? She liked spending time with him. She’d certainly enjoyed it today.

She rolled over to stand again as that old uneasiness cropped up. At one time, he’d been very clear that redheads were not his type. Could men truly change?

He was being sweet, and there seemed to be real attraction between them, didn’t there? Her experience in such matters was limited, but she thought it was going well.

She let out a deep breath.

Perhaps she could marry him after all.

***

The next day, they were out and about again and this time he surprised her with a horse race.

When they arrived, she turned to him, her eyes bright and shining, and Alexander’s own spirits rose as well.

He knew Lizzie, he assured himself. He did know what made her tick, and this week he was proving it. He hadn’t been able to get the kiss out of his head since yesterday, and sincerely hoped she’d not been able to either.

Dressed in a yellow gown, she looked splendid in the springtime air. Her glorious hair was pulled up and she wore a hat, baring the base of her neck. He had to force himself not to lean down and press his lips there. They’d be married soon enough, and then he could do whatever he liked.

The thought filled him with satisfaction.

As they stood off to one side of the green, three riders lined up their horses and carriages. Racing was a dangerous occupation, and not one he’d willingly enter himself. Very aware of their linked arms, he pressed her hand with his, holding her in place against him. “Do ye know the rules?”

She shook her head.

“In an event such as this, there truly are no’ many. The course itself is about a half-mile, and they will end where they start. We’ll be able to see most of it because they will ride in a circle and we can cross over and see how they’re faring.”

She let go of him and moved forward, standing on tiptoes as she tried to get a better view. “Have you done this yourself?”

“Nae, ye’d not catch me in such a foolish endeavor, risking life and limb for naught.”

She smiled at that. “Who are we cheering for?”

He chuckled, again, charmed by her enthusiasm. “To tell ye the truth, I dinnae know who the participants are. I heard about this at my club a couple of days ago, and haven’t kept up on the gossip.”

He glanced down at her, a meaningful glint in his eye. “I’ve been a little busy.”

She smiled at him, obviously taking his meaning, and he slid a hand to her waist. He only left it there for a brief moment, as he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, but it was enough to feel her shiver, and that telling reaction filled him with satisfaction.

He was glad to know he was having an effect on her, as well, for she had invaded his dreams.

The participants lined up to race, and he was watching Lizzie so he saw her mouth fall open in surprise. “Alexander, in the middle there, it’s the American cowboy, Mr. Russell.”

At that, Alexander searched the lineup, and, sure enough, his new nemesis, looking capable and dashing, was at the starting line, his reins held in a firm grip.

The first ugly thought that entered his head was mayhap the man would break his neck and save Alexander the trouble. “So it is.”

He was proud of his neutral tone, as what he really wanted to do at this point was snatch Lizzie away, and escort her off the field.

Even as he watched, the cowboy looked directly at Lizzie, grasped the top of his hat, and lifted it off his head with a nod in her direction. Blast that man, anyway.

The men lined up to the starting line, and another gentleman, looking slightly lost in his cups, lifted the gun in the air and fired.

The horses flinched, untrained to firearms, and Alexander shook his head at the idiot move.

The three men perched atop their carriages wielded the reins and yelled as their steeds surged forward.

Much of the enjoyment of the day drained away for him.

He watched as the men rounded the corner. One of the wheels on the carriage to the right lifted off the ground then settled back again as the course straightened out.

Along with the rest of the crowd, Lizzie moved forward, and came back and grabbed him by the hand and tugged.

He liked that well enough.

Gripping her hand in his, he allowed himself to be pulled forward over the slight rise so they could watch the racers round the second bend.

The cowboy was in the lead, curse him.

One of the other men had a wheel that wobbled precariously, and Alexander wondered if the man had the brains to pull up, and save not only himself, but potential harm to his cattle.

Even as he thought it, the man tugged on the reins, urging his horses to a stop.

The cowboy and the other man were neck and neck as they came into the last corner. Both looked to be competent horsemen, and Alexander mentally urged the other man, who he recognized as Lord Lambert, to outrace the cowboy.

On the curve, Lambert’s horses went too far onto the green, and his right wheel struck a rock, making the carriage bounce, wobble, and lose precious seconds of time.

By the time Lambert straightened his cattle and made a run for the finish, it was too late; Mr. Russell’s horses surged forward to finish first.

The man won by several lengths.

Alexander offered Lizzie a tight smile and hostility settled like a lump in his stomach as she jumped up and down, screeching her pleasure.

Blast it! The man came out a hero, and after Alexander said he would not have anything to do with such a race.

He must look weak, or boring, in her eyes.

Did he look weak or boring in her eyes?

He felt the desire to offer up some story about the war in which he’d come out sounding heroic, but didn’t want to be obvious or make himself foolish.

As the crowd rushed forward to offer their congratulations, Mr. Russell accepted it as his due. After a few moments, he handed his team off to another, and headed toward Lizzie with a bouquet of flowers that had appeared out of nowhere.

Oh, this just got better and better, didn’t it?

“Lady Elizabeth! Did you see me win?”

She clung to Alexander’s arm, which took away some of his ire. “I did! We did! Very impressive, Mr. Russell!”

“These are for you.”

“For me?” She glanced up at Alexander, and then reached for the flowers. “Oh. Thank you.” Of course, in reaching for the flowers she had to let go of his arm, which didn’t please him in the least.

Was he jealous?

Aye, he was. Burning with it.

Was it appropriate for the other man to give his intended flowers?

No, it wasn’t.

Alexander reached forward and took the flowers out of Lizzie’s hand and slapped the blooms into the other man’s chest. “Sorry, old man. But Lady Elizabeth is taken and doesnae need any more admirers.”

The other man grinned, a smirky twisting of lips. “Oh, I don’t consider myself an admirer so much as a contender for her hand. And I do like to win.”

When the man tried to hand Lizzie the flowers once again, Alexander batted them to the ground. “She’s mine.”

“Alexander, don’t,” Lizzie whispered.

He wanted to do something more, perhaps strike the man down as he’d done with the flowers. They locked gazes, and Alexander watched to see what the man’s next move would be.

“Alexander, please.”

The distress in Lizzie’s voice had the other man looking at her. “Don’t worry, Lizzie. I’m sure this will get sorted out one way or another.”

As Mr. Russell walked back to his admirers, Lizzie turned her angry gaze on him. “Why did you do that?”

“If ye want flowers, I’ll be the one to buy them for ye.”

She snorted and turned and walked toward the carriage. “The last time you bought me flowers, they meant something horrid.”

“Apparently I’m not a flower enthusiast. What of the flowers Mr. Russell tried to give you?”

“They were forget-me-nots.”

He growled his impatience. “What was their meaning?”

She turned her face away and murmured, “True love.”

He drew in a breath, wanting to go after the other man and throttle him. “And is he?”

“Is he what?”

He needed to keep the words behind his teeth, but uttered the anyway. “Is he your true love?”

She shot him a vexed glare as he handed her up into the carriage. When they were seated across from each other he asked, “Well?”

“Well, what?”

He scowled. “Is he your true love or not?”

“Are we truly going to have this conversation?”

Again he told himself to desist, but jealousy stabbed into him and he couldn’t refrain. “I want an answer.”

“Fine. Here’s your answer. It’s none of your business.”

“It is my business.” He signaled the driver to take them back to her house. Fuming, he glared at her profile and she looked out the window, no doubt hoping for a glimpse of her cowboy.

He told himself to turn the conversation elsewhere, to bite back his jealousy and try to salvage the day.

When she leaned forward to get a better view as they drove by the crowd, he ground his teeth together and looked out the opposite window.

***

They rode along in silence and, of course the traffic was worse than ever this day. Probably because everybody was going to the races.

Lizzie kept her gaze locked firmly out the window. She wasn’t speaking to him after his appalling behavior. What more did he want from her? Where did this unexpected jealousy come from?

So she had almost kissed the man. She hadn’t, and she’d bet it would have been nothing compared to the kiss Alexander had given her anyway.

The hypocrite.

She’d kissed Alexander when he was sixteen, and again yesterday. The man had far more experience than she did in such matters, and she was in the position to know.

That only made her angrier. Where had he gotten his experience? Hmm?

It was certainly a different ride home than the ride out. All of the excitement of the day had been chased away by his bad temper.

Finally she could not stand the silence anymore. “Do you wish to tell me what that was all about?”

“What? The fact that I dinnae appreciate ye fawning all over another man? The fact that I dinnae appreciate another man giving ye flowers?”

“You’re just jealous.”

“Aye, I’m jealous. Verra much so. I’d like to knock the man’s teeth down his throat. Happy to hear so?”

Actually, she was slightly shocked. He really was jealous? Over her? “But we hardly know one another. You’re just being like a dog with a bone. And I’m the bone.”

Alexander gaped at her. “Barely know one another? I’ve known ye since I was two years old.”

“I haven’t seen you in nine years. We’ve both changed a lot since we were children.”

“I’ve written letters to ye for the last nine years.”

“Not that first year!” The words were bitter and she remembered her continued hurt over his silence. “In fact, you hardly wrote to me at all during the first three years!”

“Ye didnae write me, either! And when ye finally did, the letters were as if to a stranger!”

“You’re the one who told me I was ugly. Why would I write to you? My mother started making me!”

“You’re the one who told me I could kiss for naught. Why would I write to you?”

They both sat in fuming silence.

She released a breath. “You know what? You just need to let me go.”

His face tightened. “Aye, then! But I’m not ending it off; ye break it off. Ye are the one who wishes to get out of this marriage, not me.”

“Do you want to fight with me for the rest of your life?”

“Actually, nae I dinnae.”

“I’m done fighting with you too. I don’t want to marry you.”

Even as she said the words, she wished she could take them back. He looked devastated for just a moment, before his expression cleared. “Fine. Ye win. I’ll give ye what ye want. But you’re tae be the one to sever it, not me. Feel free to announce it right away, or whenever ye wish.”

He was willing to let her go? Her stomach hurt dreadfully, but she lifted her chin. “Why do I have to be the one who ruins my reputation? Why can’t you be a gentleman and break it off?”

“Ye think ’tis a gentlemanly thing tae end an engagement? You’re mad. Ye do it. I willnae fight ye. I need to get back to Scotland soon, and I’d like to take a bride back with me. So if ye dinnae want to be that woman, then fine. I’ll find another. After ye break it off.”

It just confirmed to her she didn’t personally matter to him at all. Any bride would do, apparently. Her eyes blurred and she glanced down, desperate that he shouldn’t see the sheen of moisture.

He never did truly want her, did he? And he’d just proved it to her, emphatically.

Had he been playing with her this whole time? He’d certainly given her up awfully easily. He’d threatened her, then romanced her, and she’d been stupid enough to fall for it.

The moment her emotions were engaged, he broke her heart all over again. This certainly felt familiar, didn’t it?

They didn’t speak to each other again, and when they finally arrived back at her house, he stepped out long enough to say, “I’ll await your next move.”

With a scoffing noise, she marched up the stairs, went inside, and slammed the door as hard as she could. Her next move, indeed.

She loathed that man!

***

Alexander stepped back into the carriage, sank down, and headed toward home.

Now that Lizzie wasn’t sitting across from him, his anger started to dissipate and he felt numb, lost, and afloat. What had he just done? In releasing her from their engagement, he felt like he’d just cut off his arm.

In wanting to end their engagement, she’d shocked and hurt him.

How could she have said that they barely knew each other? What about all the letters they’d written over the years? Apparently, they’d not meant as much to her as they had to him.

He wanted to go back. He wished to tell her that not any bride would do, and she was the only one for him. He wanted to return before she had a chance to say anything to anyone.

His anger started to simmer again. Would she run out and announce it immediately? Would she place an announcement in the paper?

Would next week’s paper announce her engagement to Mr. Russell?

A new surge of anger filled him to the brim.

He tapped on the ceiling of the carriage, leaned out, and told his driver to take him to his club instead.

He’d missed out on knocking the cowboy’s teeth down his throat earlier.

Mayhap he could find another taker.

***

Alexander was thrown back against the ropes again, the growing crowd of spectators behind him shoving him forward with a cheer.

His knuckles ached like the devil.

His opponent, a man named Walding, and the third this afternoon, came at him in a rush, head down, ready to plow into his stomach so he could get him in a clinch and punch him repeatedly in the ribs.

Alexander should know, as he’d executed the same move against the man earlier.

He quickly jumped out of the way, and his opponent slammed into the ropes, tangled for a moment, then was helpfully pushed forward.

A well-timed blow to the man’s jaw, and Mr. Walding staggered back again. It wasn’t a graceful way to box, and certainly not the approved method at the gentleman’s club, but they were certainly amusing the men around them.

Jeers from his friends had the man staggering forward for a couple of hits to his ribs.

Mr. Walding went down to groans from his friends.

Alexander glanced around at the men watching and asked, “Anyone else?”

“I’ll have a go.”

The American accent had Alexander glancing hopefully around to find the man who’d spoken and, sure enough, it was the cowboy.

Intense satisfaction flooded him. This was exactly the man Alexander had been fighting against in the last three go-arounds. To have him turn up now felt like a gift from above.

“Step right up.” Alexander said with a flourish as he shook out his battered fists.

He used the time to catch his breath as the one man was hauled away by friends, and the other took off his double breasted coat to enter the ring.

A strange sort of joy enveloped him. Sometimes events conspired against a man.

And other times? It was as if the universe wished to give him exactly what he wanted.

***

Lizzie walked around the house. It had been hours since Alexander had left, and the hurt she felt had dulled to a low throb in her chest.

She should be used to this, shouldn’t she?

It wasn’t as if she’d ever felt supremely important to him or anything. It was just that the last little while, the last few days, he’d started to make her feel as if she was. That perhaps the fact they’d been betrothed their entire life meant something to him. That the letters they’d exchanged had made him feel closer to her than she’d believed.

He was such a liar.

When it was time to be called down for dinner, Lizzie reluctantly went, unsure of how to break the news to her family. She took her seat between her younger siblings, Matthew and Mary, and when food was placed in front of her, she automatically began to eat.

Alexander had assured her she didn’t have to say anything yet. She could take her time and think about it. It would certainly make it easier on her if he was the one who backed out of their arrangement. She pictured that scenario: him letting everyone know the engagement was off. Perhaps putting a notice in the paper announcing it.

Even the thought of it had heat rushing into her cheeks. People would despise him if he did such a thing. And it would be her fault, wouldn’t it?

She considered the reverse. If she were the one to put a notice in the paper, or perhaps even forgo the notice and just let people know the engagement was off, then she would be shunned. They’d find out soon enough that she wasn’t going to marry Alexander MacGregor after all.

She thought about the whispers she’d have to endure, the sly glances, the gossip! Doing such a thing would no doubt ruined her chances of a good marriage.

If he did it, perhaps people would pity rather than despise her. But was that any better?

Either way, it would be a disaster for both of them.

“Lizzie,” her father spoke up at the end of the table. “You are awfully quiet today.”

She glanced up, considered telling her father Alexander had broken it off with her, and then looked around the room.

Mother would have a fit. Her siblings would be shocked, and her father would be angry. She glanced at the maid serving dinner, and at the footmen off to one side. The moment the words left her mouth, she had no doubt the entire household would know within minutes what she’d said.

Alexander had been such a part of her life that it would be shocking, talked about in this household, and soon in every household across London. Especially in light of that blasted notice Alexander had placed in the newspaper last week.

She did need to talk to her parents, but in private. “I’m sorry, Father. I went to a horse race today. It was quite exciting.”

Everyone stopped eating after she’d made the announcement, and her natural good humor reasserted itself.

“Alexander took you?” Mother sounded shocked.

“Yes.”

“I thought you were going to the park!”

Her father, his mouth opening and closing, seemed to be trying to form a coherent sentence. “Why would Alexander take you to a horse race?”

She shrugged. “I suspect he thought I would find it entertaining.”

Her mother shook her head, and her father was still trying to decide whether to rebuke the man or not, so it was Matthew who asked the pertinent question. “Who won?”

Lizzie laughed at that. “Mr. Noah Russell.”

“The American cowboy?” Her father asked. “The one who’s been sniffing around you lately?”

“Bartholomew!” Mother admonished. “Don’t be vulgar.”

Her father shot a glance toward her mother. “Well, he has. And it doesn’t look good with her being spoken for, and all.”

Lizzie was struck by the notion that perhaps Alexander had something to be upset about. And of course thinking about Alexander distressed her all over again.

She tried to act as normally as possible throughout the rest of the meal. She listened to her sister discuss the new gown she’d ordered, and when they were excused and her two siblings leapt up and hurried from the table, she stood more slowly.

“Mother, Father, could we have a conversation?”

After exchanging a quick glance, her parents ushered her into her father’s office. Her father turned up the lamp on his desk. “What’s this about?”

After she was sure her mother had closed the door, she sank down into the chair across from her father.

Her parents looked alarmed, and her mother sat beside her.

“Lizzie? What is it?” Mother asked.

“I think … I mean … ,” she drew in a deep breath. “Alexander and I broke off our engagement today.”

“What!” Her father stood straight up out of his chair.

Mother’s face froze into a horrified mask. “Elizabeth, what happened?”

Tears filled her eyes and her mother immediately handed her a handkerchief. She gripped it tightly on her lap, sniffed, and then shrugged. “I’m not sure what happened. I … that is to say, we fought this afternoon. Mr. Russell approached me after he won and offered me some flowers and Alexander made entirely too much of the event.”

She took a breath. “On the way home I told him I didn’t want to marry him. He … he agreed, and that was that.”

“I will go talk to the man. Is there anything more I should know?”

“It isn’t a case of whether he wishes to marry you or not. Contracts have been signed, promises made, and it is a matter of honor. Did he say what he planned to do?”

Once again she shrugged. “He told me he’d leave it up to me to break it off.”

Her father shook his head and chuckled. “I can tell you right now that that’s never going to happen. Do you know what would become of your reputation—to this family’s reputation—if word of this escaped? We’d become a public spectacle. This is unacceptable, and there will be no breaking it off. The two of you need to seriously rethink if you believe I will let you get away with this. Alexander’s parents would agree, believe you me.”

Lizzie felt an overwhelming sense of relief. She hadn’t realized how upset she was over this whole thing. To have the problem taken from her hands was a relief.

Her father stood. “I’ll go find the man and talk some sense into him.”

Mother stood as well. “Lizzie, why don’t you write him a letter? The two of you have always communicated well through the written word. Your father can deliver it.”

That wasn’t a bad idea. She just wasn’t sure she wanted to do it. She was a mix of emotions at the moment. Yes, she was relieved her parents were helping her, but at the same time, she was still upset that Alexander had been so willing to give her up. Not surprised, however. Perhaps the whole thing had been a relief to him.

“I’m not sure I wish to write him a letter.”

“Lizzie! Do I have to treat you the way I did when you were fourteen again? Write the letter.”

She was quickly provided with quill and paper and seated at her father’s desk.

Dear Alexander,

I am sorry for my part in our disagreement this afternoon.

She stopped there unsure what else to say. When he received this letter, when he met up with her father, was he going to be relieved, or disappointed?

Did it matter?

It did to her.

So perhaps a bit more honesty on her part would go a long way toward smoothing things over between them.

Truthfully, I’ve had a bad afternoon thinking about the fact that our engagement is over. I don’t want that, and I hope you feel the same. These last days have been a joy, and spending the time with you and getting to know you better in person has been very gratifying.

I hope you’ll forgive me for my part in this afternoon’s quarrel. You are correct in that I should not have accepted flowers from Mr. Russell. I would love to know how you’re feeling, and if you truly want the engagement to end. I hope you’ll be as honest with your feelings as I’m trying to be with mine. Lizzie.

“I trust this is a good letter? Or do I need to read it?” Her father asked.

“Please, don’t.” It would embarrass her.

He studied her expression, and then nodded once.

She blew on the letter to dry the ink, carefully folded it, and sealed it as her parents watched.

She handed it to her father.

She hoped this would make a difference. She didn’t add a postscript. She didn’t loathe Alexander. She hadn’t really ever done so. In fact …

It wasn’t until after she’d lost him she truly realized she wanted to keep him.

***

The only comfort Alexander could take in his bruised visage was that he knew Noah Russell looked worse.

At least he hoped he did.

Alexander held a cloth filled with ice to his eye, in hopes that the swelling would go down.

He certainly didn’t want Elizabeth to see him like this.

That thought brought pain. He’d take the bruises on his body over a bruised heart any day of the week.

His jaw tightened as he considered that she didn’t want him.

When he had been fighting Russell, he’d wondered if the man had somehow already known about their broken engagement.

He knew how Lizzie loved to write letters.

Could she have dashed off a note, and sent it to Russell? Had he come to gloat?

But the man had never indicated that he knew, and Alexander realized Russell just wanted to beat him because Lizzie belonged to him.

He chuckled humorlessly. He suspected Mr. Noah Russell had received more than he bargained for. So, it being his chance to beat the man Lizzie might end up married to, Alexander took full advantage.

It had been no less than the bloody thieving libertine deserved.

They’d both walked away from the fight, but barely, having been hauled apart by other members of the club.

Afterward they’d been banned from the gentleman’s club, upon being informed that gentlemen did not act in such a way.

No matter. He had no intention of hanging about London while Lizzie was courted, and perhaps married, to another man.

There was a knock on the door and his butler, James, entered. “Lord Huntington is at the door.”

He couldn’t imagine what the other man wanted, but he certainly didn’t wish to be seen with blackened eyes and a bloody nose. Was he here to negotiate Elizabeth’s release? “Tell him I’m not home. In fact, tell him I’m away for the foreseeable future.”

James looked surprised, as well he might. Turning away a man’s future father-in-law was not good manners in the least.

Well, the man wasn’t his future father-in-law anymore, was he?

If they wanted to work out how to break the contracts, they could do it on their own, without his help.

In fact, now might be a good time to take his friend Lord Browning up on his offer for a few days in the country.

When James returned to let him know the man had left, he instructed him to tell his valet to pack a bag for the weekend.

He knew he needed to meet with Lord Huntington, but it would be on his own time schedule.

The man, and his daughter, could both cool their heels for a few days.