Alexander woke the next morning with a headache.

It took a moment to remember he’d overindulged for the first time in years.

Blast Lord Browning, anyway.

It took some time, but slowly the night’s events rose to his consciousness.

Had he really gone to Lizzie’s house last night? Please, God, let that have been a dream. Because what he thought he’d done was go to Lizzie’s house, throw rocks at her window, announce himself her hero, and propose once again.

Actually, now that he thought about it, that had been the first time he’d ever proposed to her.

The results had been the same, however.

She’d flatly rejected him.

He closed his gritty eyes once more, as pain seemed to shoot straight to his heart. Even in the dire straits she was in, she’d rejected him? Why? He just couldn’t seem to wrap his mind around what was going on in hers.

He used to be an expert at assessing the motivations of others.

If he was back in France, Spain, or Portugal trying to outwit the enemy, he’d look at the situation from their point of view. Empathize. Try and think about what they wanted and how they might go about getting it.

And then he’d thwart them.

That had been his sole job, and he’d excelled at it.

Mayhap he was going about this courtship all wrong. Mayhap he needed to think about Lizzie as if she was the enemy.

What did she want?

Even if she wanted to marry Mr. Russell, she couldn’t wish to be a social outcast, gossiped about and reviled by those in her social circle. By refusing to marry him, that was exactly what would happen to her after last night’s events.

So what was she hoping to gain?

He glanced toward his wardrobe and thought about the drawer especially dedicated to the keeping of every single one of Lizzie’s letters.

He knew her. Or he blasted well should after all the correspondence they’d exchanged over the years. She’d been very forthcoming, entertained him on many an occasion, but she often ended the missives with “P.S. I loathe you.”

When had that started?

He threw back the covers and quickly found the letters and organized the bundles according to the dates.

They went back to their childhood.

He opened several of the early ones, and ten minutes later finally found one with the postscript he was looking for. He read the letter several times before remembering she’d written the polite little note after they’d had that last spat when they were children.

After he’d kissed her and she’d been repulsed by him.

What had he said to her? He honestly couldn’t remember. He remembered the feelings of humiliation, and the relief he’d felt when she’d left. Could she have held onto bitter emotions after all these years?

Surely not.

The postscript she’d left had simply been an ongoing joke between the two of them. It had made him laugh every time he’d seen it.

Surely it couldn’t have had any deeper meaning, could it?

Thinking about her letters reminded him that he had one there somewhere; something she’d written to him recently, and apparently he had yet to receive.

He bellowed for his valet.

When Gibbs came in, he forced himself not to bark out the words. “I believe I received a letter from Lady Elizabeth. Have ye seen it?”

Gibbs walked to a side table, lifted a plate and presented Alexander with the post.

“Thank you.” His tone was dismissive as he quickly rifled through the three letters and easily found Elizabeth’s handwriting.

He broke the seal and read the words, his sense of disbelief growing by the minute.

She didn’t want their engagement to be over? She enjoyed the time they’d spent together, getting to know him, and was sorry for her part in their disagreement? She shouldn’t have accepted flowers from Mr. Russell?

He glanced at the date. She’d sent this to him right after their disagreement after the horse race.

And yet, last night …

He closed his eyes.

When he hadn’t responded, she’d thought he didn’t want her and hurt had turned to anger. If only she knew. His feelings were very strong, very real. They’d exchanged so many letters over the years that he knew her better than anyone else in the world.

He’d certainly exposed his true self to her.

Yet when he’d arrived, she’d rejected him. Why? He glanced at the polite little letter once again. Could she truly be holding on to anger from a little tiff they’d had when they were children?

Of course she could.

He was an idiot for not seeing it sooner.

How different things would have been had he read this new missive right away. Instead, he’d been hurt by her actions and gone away to lick his wounds. By the time he’d returned, she was hurt all over again.

He took a deep breath, read the letter once more, and tried to think what to do next.

If his commanding officer could see him now — done in, by a tiny redheaded female.

His hands clenched. He could fix this. He just needed to figure out how. Mayhap he should just find her and tell her he was an idiot.

Mayhap he should simply tell her he wasn’t letting her go.

***

took her time packing.

When she realized she was stalling, irritation at herself flared within. She was still hoping to see Alexander, wasn’t she?

If she went to the country, would she ever see him again? Or would she simply hear, after the fact, that he’d married?

Was she all right with that? It seemed she would have to be, wouldn’t she?

The maid came in the room. “Miss, are you receiving company this afternoon?”

Her heart sped. “Who is it?”

“It’s Mr. Russell.”

Disappointment flooded her. She supposed she ought to say goodbye to the man, as she wasn’t going to be here for the rest of the season. It was quite possible she’d never see him again.

She went downstairs to find him in the parlor, and he was alone.

She nodded toward her maid to go and sit by the window, and then crossed the room to stop in front of Mr. Russell. She managed not to gasp at his bruised visage as she curtsied, he bowed, and when the formalities were over, she offered him a seat, and took the one across from him. “Mr. Russell, it’s so nice of you to stop by today.”

Certainly, no one else had.

He smiled, emphasizing his attractive features. “I would never miss an opportunity to see you.”

She smiled at him, warm feelings for the man curving her lips. “Flatterer.”

“Not at all. I am most sincere.”

In light of everything that had occurred, she actually was quite grateful to know she still had a friend. A tall, well-favored one didn’t hurt her bruised ego in the slightest. “Thank you. May I ask what happened to your face?”

“I ran into a door.”

“Truly? I saw Captain MacGregor last night, and apparently he suffers from the same affliction.” The moment she said the words, her eyes widened in realization. The two men had fought? Over … over her? “Oh. Oh, dear,” she said faintly.

The man didn’t so much as blink. “Doors can be dangerous.”

“Yes. I can certainly see that now.”

He grinned at her. “Lady Elizabeth, I like you. I’m just going to give it to you straight. I’m not the kind of man who beats about the bush anyway, and I hope you are as fond of plain speaking.”

His words brought to mind Alexander’s outburst when they were children. About the way her mother had made her realize that the incident had stayed with her throughout the years. “I don’t believe I’ve always been an enthusiast, but it is starting to grow on me.”

“All right, good.” With his cowboy hat in hand, he twisted it in a circle, revealing his nerves for the first time since she’d known the very confident man. He looked down, then back up at her.

“Lady Elizabeth, I’ve liked you from the moment I saw you. I didn’t realize it, but I just might have a fascination with beautiful red hair. Anyway, I heard about your trouble, and wondered if I might be of any assistance.”

“My trouble, Mr. Russell?”

Her frosty tone didn’t deter him and he smiled. “I heard about how you and MacGregor are no longer to be married. And, the way I hear it, that’s created a bit of a situation for you.”

Her cheeks heated as her chin rose. “Whether it has, or whether it hasn’t, why would you think it any of your business?”

Again, he chuckled, apparently, not put off by her cold demeanor in the least. “The way I see it, you might want to get out of town for a bit.”

“Mr. Russell. Again, I must remind you that my plans are my own.”

“Like I said, I like plain speaking. Lady Elizabeth,” he took a breath, cleared his throat, and stood.

She watched him curiously, and as he rounded the table she became slightly alarmed. “Mr. Russell? What are you — ”

What he was doing became readily apparent as he sank down on one knee.

Her mouth parted as panic seized her.

He grasped her right hand in both of his and looked into her eyes. “Lady Elizabeth, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

Lizzie was completely stunned. This was the last thing she’d been expecting. She had certainly chatted with Mr. Russell on various occasions, and flirted even, but as she’d been engaged the entire time, it had never gone beyond that, regardless of what Alexander thought.

“Lady Elizabeth?” He chuckled, his eyes sparkling. “I can see I’ve taken you by surprise.”

“Well, yes, Mr. Russell, you have. I’ve had no idea your thoughts were running in this direction.”

“As this is the first time you’ve been free to marry, I hope you’ll take into account my forbearance on the subject.”

Her eyelids fluttered down to where her hand was still held between the two of his, an intimate gesture, as she wasn’t wearing gloves. She’d not planned on company, as she’d been packing her clothing.

The warmth of his hand penetrated her own, and her mind, in somewhat of a muddle, tried to think of a coherent response.

Yes, it would solve her troubles in the current situation.

If she went away to America, she would essentially take her scandal with her, sparing her family anymore heartache.

And she did like Mr. Russell. He was good company, charming, and a wonderful conversationalist.

But, were those reasons enough to marry a man?

She opened her mouth to speak, and again, didn’t know what to say. She pressed her lips together. Finally she cleared her throat. “Mr. Russell, I had never thought to receive a proposal from you, and I am stunned.”

“It would make me the happiest man in the world if you accept my offer. I think you should know, I have a ranch out in Texas. I inherited it from my father, who loved his drink. My grandfather had made it a thriving concern, but when my father took over, he drained its resources down to almost nothing.”

Determination hardened every line of his body. “I am resolute in my desire to build it back to what it was, and I’m laying all of this out because I genuinely like you. I know you’re an heiress and you’ll bring much-needed money to the marriage. But I would be a good husband to you, faithful. I am a man more like my grandfather than my father.”

His honesty touched her. He wasn’t making any bones about the fact that he needed her money, and she’d be the first to admit that she liked him too, and enjoyed his company as well.

But was it enough to base a marriage on? Even if it would solve many of her problems?

And what of her feelings for Alexander?

“Mr. Russell, I just don’t believe —”

“No. No, Lizzie. Don’t give me an answer yet. I can see you’re confused and you need to think about this. And that’s all right. Take your time. Just know I want you for my wife, and I think we would deal very well together. I like you, and I believe it wouldn’t take much to tip me,” he made a tilting motion with his free hand, “over into love. Think about it.”

He stood, picked his hat up from the table, and put it on his head. “I’ll see myself out.” He winked at her and shot her a charming smile. “Don’t keep me waiting too long. I’m anxious for you to see Texas. I think Texas would become you. It’s wild, it’s beautiful, and it’s brand new. I think the two of you would have a lot in common.” After a quick bow of his head, he turned and left.

Leaving her with much to think about.

***

headed up the stairs of Drake’s town house and knocked on the door.

He didn’t know if Drake would be able or willing to help him, but he had to at least try.

His friend was still in bed, but Alexander sent his butler upstairs to rouse him, assuring the man that Drake would be grateful he’d done so.

Drake, Lord Browning, came down the stairs a few minutes later tying his robe and looking disgruntled. “It’s a little early in the day to be calling isn’t it?”

“’Tis two in the afternoon.”

“Like I said …” Drake winced as they went into the sitting room, which had obviously been decorated by the man’s female relatives. Flowers, damasks, velvet silks, and imported chintz adorned every wall and surface. Drake walked straight over to the window and shut the drapes, dimming the room into semi-darkness.

The man growled. “Now, what’s so important that it couldn’t wait?”

“Ye gave me a great idea last night.”

Drake nodded. “Of course, I did. Now, remind me what I said again?”

Alexander laughed. “Ye told me the way to a woman’s heart is to understand her.” 

Drake looked doubtful. “I don’t think that was me, but if you say so. I have been known to be wise on occasion. What did I mean by that, exactly?” Using both hands he lifted his injured leg up onto the coffee table.

Alexander sat down across from him. “Drake, ye know what I did in the military.”

That captured his attention and his gaze sharpened. “Yes?”

“I’m tired of not understanding what is going on in Lizzie’s head.”

“So you’re going to use your knowledge of how to defeat the enemy, to defeat Lizzie?”

“When ye say it like that, it doesnae sound verra nice.”

Drake took his feet off the table and straightened. He laughed again. “No, no actually this is perfect. I don’t know why more men haven’t thought of it before, in fact. No doubt, they lack your skillset.”

Drake suddenly started clearing off the coffee table, removing the base of fake flowers, the doilies, and the books of poetry, and setting them off to the side.

He jumped up and limped to the writing desk in the corner, scooped up paper and quill pen, and came back to the table. He spread the papers out, and then finally lifted the pen and held it over the paper.

Drake drew a square. “This is Lizzie’s house.” He drew another square higher up on the paper. “This is your house.”

He grabbed a handful of chess pieces from off a nearby board and glanced at Alexander. “Now, where have you engaged the enemy thus far?”

Alexander pointed. “The bookstore,” he pointed to a spot on the impromptu map. “And we attended a fortuneteller here.” He tapped the page. “Séance here, horse race here, and balls here, here, and here.”

Drake dutifully drew in all of the squares where Alexander had indicated, placing chess pieces on top.

Alexander laid another sheet of paper and placed a chess piece on top. “This is where her country house is. I have my suspicions that the family will be retreating there soon; what do ye think?”

“I suspect that’s a distinct possibility.” Drake sat back. “All right, we’ve set the stage. Are we going into attack mode? Or defense mode?”

Alexander tapped his fingers on his leg as he considered. He looked at the square that represented the country house, and then back to the London area. “I could probably talk her father into staying in town. If we retreat, and go into defense mode, then I’ll need access to Huntington Hall.”

“Do you think that would be a problem?”

“Lizzie might protest, but I do believe her father would allow me entrance.” He looked at the sheets of paper again. “On the other hand, if we were to stay in town, she might hole up, or keep visits to a minimum time, blocking my access.”

“I have friends near there.” Drake set one of the chess pieces on the paper near Huntington Hall. “The Covingtons, who live here. I could inveigle an invitation for us to stay.”

Alexander nodded. “There is also the cowboy, but in the country he wouldnae be a problem anymore.”

“And the gossips. In town we’d have to turn them to our way of thinking.”

“Not so easy to do.” Alexander considered. “Once they’ve sunk their teeth into a juicy bit of gossip, they’re like bulldogs, and rarely let go.”

Drake looked up. “The question is, which is the playing field that you wish to stage a battle upon?”

He still wasn’t sure. What would give him the best advantage? Her home in the country, where she would essentially be going to hide in disgrace?

Or the streets of London, with the backdrop of the ton?

In the country, she’d be living in ignominy, which would be an added stress.

In the city, she would be unwelcome in any of the homes or parties. Which would leave him very few places in which to court her.

“I believe a country retreat would be just the thing.”

Drake whisks three of the papers off of the table, leaving the one with the country house.

“All right. Strategy? In this area, where would you like to engage the enemy?”

“The enemy. Unfortunately, that feels a bit too apropos.”

Drake grinned. “Don’t think I’m not taking notes on this. When it’s my turn to tie the knot, I can pull these papers out so I can look at them.”

“I’d suggest waiting for the outcome of this war before making such a decision.”

“Now that you’re so obviously seeing things more clearly, I have no doubt you’re going to win. Now, let’s plan a few of these battles.”

Drake and Alexander put their heads together, and, using chess pieces, planned out Alexander’s strategy.

***

finished packing with the help of her maid. Scurrying away in the middle of the season left her feeling vaguely humiliated.

She still couldn’t believe Mr. Russell had proposed. Two offers in the same day, if you counted the fact that Alexander had proposed to her after midnight.

Not bad for a girl suffering from public humiliation.

Mother poked her head in the room. “Are you ready?”

“You know, Mother. I could simply go on my own. The rest of the family could stay here and finish out the season.”

Mother’s jaw firmed. “Not for all the money in the world will I separate this family and subject you to further gossip.” Mother lifted her chin. “Besides, your siblings don’t truly wish to be here anyway. It’s for their own good, which is why I bring them, but neither one of them will shed any tears about going home. They’ve both had their fill of London.”

And that was that. Within an hour, all of the bags had been packed in the family carriage, the family stowed inside, and they were on their way.

As she petted Fluffy, asleep on her lap, she felt the burn of humiliation. With the whole family leaving at the height of the season, she had no doubt they would continue to be a topic of conversation, probably until they showed their faces again next year.

She could be married by then.

To Mr. Noah Russell? She could be Mrs. Noah Russell, and then all would be forgiven, and her family would no longer be social pariahs.

She wondered how Alexander would take the news of her wedding. Would he be relieved? Thankful? Pleased to have escaped marriage to her?

She considered the jealous way he reacted to Mr. Russell. Perhaps he’d be indignant, irritated, or even outright angry?

She had no idea how he’d respond.

She saw her mother watching her with a slightly worried expression, and guilt once again consumed her.

“I just want to apologize to everyone for the unfortunate way we’re having to sneak out of London.”

Father snorted.

Mother nodded.

Matthew, sitting beside her and playing catch expertly with a ball and cup, laughed, his dark hair flopping over one eye. “I don’t care, Lizzie. I want to go home and see my dog.”

“I don’t care either,” claimed her sister Mary. “I’m tired of dressing up all the time for lunches and parties. It gets boring after a while. Anyway, Lucy McDonald came by earlier today and said some nasty things about you, Lizzie. So I don’t wish to be around her anymore.”

“Well, I appreciate the show of support, more than I can say.”

And she certainly did. She was sorry her family had to be disgraced along with her, but at least they were together.

Again, she considered Mr. Russell’s proposal. Perhaps she’d enjoy being a new bride in Texas.

Again, an image of Alexander popped into her head.

Perhaps she would have enjoyed being a new bride in Scotland.

Her anger at him had slowly dissipated.

He was trying, wasn’t he? None of this was his fault. He’d expected to come to London to collect his bride with minimum fuss and effort.

She continued to pet the sleeping dog, more to soothe herself than anything. She was officially tired of thinking about either man at this point.

She just wanted to go home, settle back into country life, and forget about all of this for a while.