Alexander watched as Lizzie was escorted from the room and tried to keep his flaring temper under control.

These people were ridiculous.

Nosing into their business, and spreading it about as if it were fodder for their entertainment. What he and Lizzie chose to do was none of their concern!

Hands clasped behind his back, he stood ramrod straight as he watched Lizzie’s shunning, while those same people dragged their daughters over to meet him. Was he not to blame as well?

The entire spectacle was absurd.

If he didn’t think he’d make things worse, and if he didn’t believe it would make Lizzie hate him more, he’d chase after her.

That would give them all something more to talk about, wouldn’t it? And add a whole new level of speculation to the drama. But he certainly didn’t want her to marry him because she felt pressured into it.

He wished he knew what to do about the situation. He didn’t like feeling out of control.

Lord Browning came and stood beside him, his dark good looks getting him giggling attention from a nearby group of ladies which he ignored. “Interesting thread of gossip going through the crowd tonight.”

“So there is.”

“I’d have pegged you as a man who didn’t like to have a starring role in such comedies.”

“Ye’d have been right.”

“Since I didn’t hear an announcement being made, I take it someone overheard your conversation?”

Alexander took a deep breath, and released it. “That would be correct.”

Lord Browning seemed to hesitate for a moment. “I have to say, it’s particularly vicious against your ladylove. Any chance it’s false and the two of you are happily planning your nuptials?”

“I’ve been assured, twice now, that will never be the case.”

“Ah. Well, do let me know if I can be of assistance. I’d love nothing more than to help you out of this pickle. A word in the right ear, a bit of information that needs placing just so. I’m your man.”

“Thank you, my lord, I knew I could count on you.”

“In the meanwhile, what do you say we exit the premises and go find something more entertaining to do?”

Alexander set his drink down. “Lead the way; I’m right behind you.”

“That’s what I thought.”

***

“, what happened?”

They’d barely left and already Lizzie could tell the carriage ride was to be a long one.

Her mother sighed at her lack of reaction. “By the time my good friend Mrs. Rose told me what was being said, it was all over the ballroom. Did you truly reject Captain MacGregor in front of Lady Nelson, Lady Somerset, and Lady Morton?”

Lizzie let out a long sigh. “I’m sorry, Mother. I truly am. I believed we were alone and I lost my temper with Alexander.”

“But, Lizzie,” her father sounded genuinely confused. “As of three days ago you were still planning to marry him. What has changed?”

She could see her parents were openly concerned. And probably not just about her, either. What this could mean to their family could be disastrous.

“I was just so upset! I poured my heart out in that letter I sent to him, and he didn’t bother to read it!”

“On purpose?” Mother sounded surprised.

“Yes! No! I don’t know …”

Lizzie closed her eyes, feeling foolish and miserable. “I don’t know why I said what I did. I certainly didn’t know we’d be overheard.”

They rode in silence for a moment, the sounds of the horses’ hooves, of people outside the carriage, of other vehicles, filtering into the interior. 

“Lizzie, part of the rumor going around included the fact that you been seen at a séance. And that you’d been seen kissing Alexander in a carriage. Is any of that true?”

Dismay hit her hard. Mother sounded so disappointed in her; she wished she could just lie and tell her that it wasn’t.

“It is true, Mama.”

Her father drew in a deep breath. “At this point, I believe the best thing we can do is leave for the country. We’ll return to Huntington Hall for the rest of the season. I can ask around, and perhaps eventually, we can make you a new match.”

Her stomach hollowed, and tears filled her eyes.

She didn’t want a new match. But she’d brought this on herself, with her ridiculous temper, and doubted that Alexander cared about her wishes anymore.

Knowing her family was going to have to share in the shame of it kept her silent.

She’d do what they wanted. She’d slink away in shame, and let them get on with their lives the best they could.

***

squinted at the painting on the other side of the tavern bar and tried to make out the image. Was it a lady? Or perhaps a horse? He just couldn’t be sure.

One thing he did know for certain. He was drunk.

As a man who always liked to be in command of his senses, he never over-imbibed and looked down on men who did.

It implied a lack of control, a lack of good sense, and, more often than not, a lack of common courtesy.

Mayhap he wouldn’t be so quick to judge in future. Mayhap, men drank because they had insufficient ability to comprehend women to the slightest degree. “Drake.” Alexander bumped the man at his side. “Do ye ken the mind of a woman?”

Drake laughed, and, lacking the scruples that Alexander normally adhered to, was completely drunk and pleased about it. “Alexander, no man understands a woman. If they say they do, they’re lying! Women are mysterious and capricious creatures.”

Alexander nodded. That was the truth if he’d ever heard it. “How did I get into this mess?”

Drake looked around the tavern, at the rowdies making speeches for the amusement of others, while food and drink flowed freely. He shrugged. “We walked in here.” He raised a hand to the bartender. “Another round for me and my friend. We’re trying to understand women, so keep them coming, will you?”

At that, Drake laughed, as did the men on either side of them.

The man to his left pounded a hand on the bar, his cropped curls bouncing. “The male who tries to understand a female’s mind will soon find himself lost in a mire of complexity. Don’t go down that path; others have tried and failed before you. Better men than yourself, I’m sure.” The man lifted a drink and tossed it back.

“Here, here!” The portly man on the other side of them said. “That’s the truth of it! No man should trod that path, and certainly never alone. You always want to take along a shot of Scottish whiskey or two!”

At that, even Alexander laughed, and Drake was almost hysterical with mirth.

The man on the left was pounding the bar again. “I’ll tell you what my father told me. Avoid them when you can, keep your mouth shut when you can’t, and tup them whenever they let you.”

More hysterical laughter, and Alexander was right there with them.

“All women prefer a heroic man.” The man to their right lifted his mug. “It’s what they love to discuss, read about, and search for.”

Alexander snorted. “I suppose ye mean racing carriages, and shooting pistols, and wearing a cowboy hat.” His resentment was close to the surface and evident in his tone.

“No, no.” The man shook his head. “Not many of us could do that, could we? They mostly need a man who’s there, holds her when she cries, talks her out of a temper, and puts her to bed when she’s in her cups. The way to a woman’s heart starts with understanding her.”

Alexander tried to picture Lizzie in her cups. Now that would be a sight to see, wouldn’t it? He remembered the bottle of whiskey she’d secreted in her room. Perhaps she’d allow him a few liberties if she were a few sheets to the wind.

He smiled at the thought, lost in vivid images featuring Lizzie, in his arms, in a bed, clinging. 

Drake jostled his arm when he handed him a fresh drink and Alexander sighed at the jarring return to reality. As for talking her out of her temper, how was he to do that? He seemed to be the one who most often put her there.

Why did she object to him so much?

Was it the cowboy? Had her heart been given while he was away fighting?

Resentment over the fact that another man would swoop in when he was doing his duty for king and country swelled within him. Of course, the man was an American, so he lacked all finer feeling toward Britain. The blackguard.

Most of the women tonight had fawned over Alexander and called him a hero for serving his country.

But not Lizzie; she’d rejected him out of hand.

He wished he didn’t care. He wished it didn’t hurt. He wished he knew how to be the hero she wanted.

She’d held her head high when she’d left this evening, but how was she truly feeling?

Surely, she couldn’t simply shrug off something like that? The gossip, the coldness, the shunning. 

If they were still engaged, the talk would simply dissipate.

She’d complained that she hadn’t had a choice. That neither one of them had. Perhaps this was their chance to choose?

Mayhap if he showed up and proposed, he would save the day, and she would see him as heroic?

He stood up, pushed away from the counter, and clapped Drake on the back.

“I’m going to see Lizzie.”

Drake lifted his head to reveal bleary eyes. “Perhaps you should wait until tomorrow?”

“No. I’m going to see Lizzie, and I’m going to propose marriage to her.” He said the words overloud, and received several cheers for his efforts.

With a wave around the room at the men spurring him on, he turned and walked toward the entrance.

How did one become heroic?

He needed to figure it out, and fast. 

Somehow, he’d be Lizzie’s hero tonight.

Something woke Lizzie.

It took her a moment to remember everything that had happened. Snuggled in her blankets, in the utter darkness, she felt safe, secluded, and sad.

She wished she hadn’t woken. She needed a good night’s sleep in order to be able to deal with her greatly altered situation in life.

She pulled the blankets up around her neck, and pressed her face against her pillow, willing herself to recapture forgotten dreams.

A sound, almost like thunder, battered against her window and she sat up straight, her heart suddenly pounding.

What in the world?

After a long moment of listening, it happened again.

She jumped out of bed, flinching as warm feet hit the frozen wood floor, and headed over to the window in the dark.

She pushed back her lace curtain and looked down to see a large man, with a lantern in his hand, standing below her window.

Alexander?

Her mother and father entered her bedroom with a candle. “Lizzie? What’s going on?” Mother sounded startled.

Lizzie unlatched the window and opened it. “Alexander? Is that you?”

“Lizzie!” He’d never said her name in quite that tone before, and if she wasn’t mistaken, he seemed exuberantly happy. At least one of them was.

“Yes?”

Her heart started to thunder in her chest. What was he doing here? What did he want? Had he read her letter?

“Lizzie. Ye are a woman. I mean … a lady.”

Her eyes narrowed. Was he drunk? “Why, yes. Yes I am.”

“That means ye are … are … mysterious and … and … capricious.”

Amusement tugged at her mouth. “Alexander, have you been writing more poetry by any chance?”

He laughed at that, then pointed up at her. “Nae, nae I have not. I’m here to be a hero. A heroic one.”

“A hero?”

“Like in Homer’s Odyssey or in … or in … The Lady of the Lake! But not,” his brows lowered. “Not like a cowboy!”

“I see.” Amusement bubbled to the surface. She didn’t wish to jump to any conclusions so she just asked him. “And how do you intend to do that?”

He gaped up at her for a moment, and then he set the lantern down, and bent down on both knees. Oh. Dear.

“I’ve never said it. Never had to say.”

“Never said what?” Though she was afraid she knew.

“Rather, I’ve never asked you.”

She drew in a breath as her heart started to pound. “Asked me what?”

He lifted his arms in the air, and asked, “Lizzie, will you marry me?”

She was afraid of that. She was afraid that was what he’d meant. She sucked in a breath. “So, let me clarify. You’re here to play the hero by asking me to marry you?”

“That’s right!”

“You’re going to save me? Restore my besmirched reputation?”

“Aye, that’s the way of it exactly!”

“No, thank you.”

“Nae?”

Feeling volatile, but trying not to give into it, she answered in a tight voice. “No, you idiot. I will not marry you.”

“But … why not? You’ve been ruined. I’m here to fix you … it.”

Her temper flared anew. “An yet … I feel fine without repairs.”

“But Lizzie, I cannae live without you!”

“Good! That can definitely be arranged!” With that, she shut the window with a sharp snap.

“Lizzie!” Mother said behind her.

Her father, a silent presence, didn’t say a word.

After a brief pause, her mother stepped forward. “Why did you refuse him?”

Arms tight around her body, she went to the fireplace, retrieved the poker, and dug around in the ashes before laying another log. She stood. “If I thought he truly wanted me, I’d say yes. But if he’s only proposing to do the right thing, then I’m simply not interested.”

Her father sighed in the darkness. “I’m a married man, and I’ve three daughters, and I don’t believe I’ll ever understand the fairer sex.”

Lizzie crossed her arms. “I don’t wish to marry because I must, and I certainly don’t wish to marry because Alexander wishes to save me.”

She put a hand to her forehead. “I’m sorry. I know this would solve all of our problems, but I just can’t do it.”

Mother came forward and gave her a hug. “We’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

Her parents left, her father muttering as he closed the door, shutting out the candlelight.

She looked out her window once more, but Alexander was gone.

Pain flared up in her chest. So much for wanting to play the hero for her. Well, good riddance!

Feeling lost and alone, she climbed back into bed, wishing she truly meant it.

***

to save her reputation, she wouldn’t marry him?

Seeped in confusion, Alexander arrived home about thirty minutes later and went upstairs to find Gibbs waiting for him.

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.

***

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.