The family sat around the dinner table later that night.

Lizzie sat to Alexander’s right, and hadn’t said much to him at all, beyond the usual polite pleasantries.

He hadn’t seen her all afternoon, and had decided to give her some time to come to grips with what he’d said.

Mayhap it had been a mistake.

His left hand clenched in his lap as he tried to think of another conversational gambit to tempt her into talking with him.

Drake sat across from him, raising an occasional eyebrow, and giving a slight shake of his head.

Blast it! Did the man think he didn’t know he was mishandling the situation?

Give him a battle to plan, and he knew exactly what to do to defeat the enemy.

But laying siege to Lizzie’s heart? It was not turning out as easy as he’d thought it would be.

“And so I said to the dear boy, that he was welcome to the shoes, though they were three sizes too large for him.”

Laughter broke out as his mother finished telling a story about one of their crofter’s children.

He’d forgotten that whenever she was around her friend, Lizzie’s mother, her English accent seemed to strengthen. Over the years, she picked up several Scottish mannerisms, and it made him wonder if she ever missed living in England.

Would Lizzie miss living in England if … no, when she married him?

Another look from Drake had him looking away, only to encounter Lizzie’s father widening his eyes at him and making a gesture with his head.

He ground his teeth. If he knew what to say to the lady, he’d be saying it, wouldn’t he? He took a breath, let it out, and then turned in her direction. “How are your vegetables?”

She gave him a look that said he was an idiot. “Quite tasty, and yours?”

He nodded. “They’re verra good.”

He missed Lizzie chattering at him, and didn’t like the stilted way they were speaking to each other. He took another breath and let it out slowly. “Lizzie —”

“It’s Lady Elizabeth, to you.”

His brows rose. Tell a girl you loved her, and it was like taking a step backward? He definitely didn’t know the rules of courtship. He tried yet again to think of a conversational gambit. This was so much easier to do in letters. There he’d always told stories of his day, his men, and Lizzie had responded to each and every one with enthusiasm.

He blew out a breath. The things he did to capture her attention. “Lady Elizabeth, then. I dinnae believe I ever told ye about a man under my command, by the name of Sam Ralston?”

“No, I don’t believe you did.”

He was gratified to see interest in her gaze.

“He was one of the best men I knew. He was Scottish, a private in the Army without much hope of advancement. Too many men had bought commissions for their sons, and we had an excess of leadership.”

Her interest was definitely caught. Never let it be said he didn’t know his own lass. Well-pleased by her response, he continued. 

“Anyway, one day Sam came to me, and wanted to lead the next charge. I knew him to be well-liked, and a good man in a fight, and so I said he could stand to my left when the order came to advance.”

Alexander couldn’t help but smile at the memory. “Weel, the order came and before any of us could move, Sam had rushed over the top of the hill, leading the way. The man was a wonder.  He fought so well, he inspired the rest of us to greater passion, and we beat the adversary back in record time.”

Alexander shook his head. “I can still remember him chasing after the enemy at the end, blood dripping down his arm, and yelling furiously after the retreating forces.”

He had Lizzie’s full attention now.

“After we’d arrived back to camp, cleaned everyone up, stitched wounds, and gathered about the fire, we were all astounded by the fact that we didnae lose one soldier that day.”

Once again he was gratified he held her full attention. “Sam was a hero in the men’s eyes after that. They considered him lucky, and would often rub the top of his head when going off to battle.”

He realized everyone at the table was listening to the story now, but Lizzie’s was the only reaction he was interested in.

“Whatever happened to him?” Lizzie asked.

Alexander grinned at her. “He was awarded the rank of cornet and carried the troop flag thereafter. I’ve no doubt he’ll go far.”

She was smiling now. “So, he changed his destiny.”

“He did. ’Tis amazing how a man filled with purpose, and passion, can change his path in life.”

“Here, here!” Drake exclaimed. “To Captain Sam Ralston!”

Everyone raised their glasses to the man and drank.

After everyone had gone back to conversing, Alexander lowered his tone. “I told ye that story, because Sam reminds me of ye a lot.”

“How so?”

“You’re determined to forge your own path in life, Lizzie. Something within ye burns to break free.”

She met his gaze for a long moment, before dropping her gaze to her plate once more.

“I want ye to forge your own destiny, Lizzie. I just hope that when ’tis all said and done, ye want me at your side while ye do it.

He gazed into her eyes. “Once, ye didn’t have a choice. Ye do now, and I hope that, like Sam, ye’ll figure out exactly what ye want, and then dive in, no matter the limitations ye felt fettered by in the past.”

She wasn’t looking at him, but he knew she was listening.

“Lizzie, I hope when it’s all said and done, that now that ye have a choice, this time you’ll choose me.”

As the conversation around the table continued, Lizzie slowly lifted her gaze to his, her eyes filled with emotion.

She reached over and touched his hand with hers, just a light brush, and opened her mouth to respond —

“Mr. Noah Russell, you say?” Lizzie’s father exclaimed, looking up at the footman. “What the devil is he doing here?” He sighed. “Well, invite him in. Set another place. I’m starting to wonder why we ever go to London for the season. It looks as if, if we stay home, the season will come to us.”