your use of animal appellations, I would term a cat.”
There was a snicker from one of the bushes, hastily suppressed.
“There is a perfectly reasonable explanation for that, my girl,” Alexander said.
“Oh?” Emily asked, and Alexander found himself having to provide an explanation of his behavior, without ever receiving one from Emily.
“It was entirely your fault that I was walking out here with Lady Cynthia.”
“Really? And was it my fault as well that she was resting her head on your arm?”
The duke nudged Lady Smithfield, whispering to her that their suspicions of Lady Cynthia were correct, and that she was a hussy of the first order.
“Yes, it was,” Alexander replied, folding his arms in front of his chest and looking smug.
“Perhaps I am singularly dull-witted, but I really do not see what your assignation with Lady Cynthia has to do with me.”
“It was part of an obvious attempt to make you jealous, and I do not think I flatter myself when I believe that I succeeded.”
Emily tried to control the racing of her heart at this leading speech, and hoped she managed to look as cool and collected as Alexander.
“Well? Did I succeed?” Alexander asked, who was not as composed as he appeared.
Emily turned and began walking aimlessly down the path, farther away from the house, much to the dismay of her audience, who scrambled to follow without being observed. She finally stopped and sat on a stone bench that, fortuitously enough, was backed by a hedge. Alexander sat beside her, a little closer than she thought was safe, as she felt there was some danger of her poor beleaguered heart jumping out of her chest.
“Emily,” Alexander said, in a wheedling tone, as he took her hand in his, “you still have not given me an answer.”
“I will admit to being a little jealous,” Emily said, too shy to meet Alexander’s eyes, “if you tell me to what purpose you tried to make me so.”
“I already made that plain, I thought, when I offered for you a few days ago. Perhaps I am foolish to think that your feelings have undergone any change since then.”
“No, they have not.”
“I see,” Alexander said, dropping Emily’s hand.
“I love you as much now as I did then,” Emily replied softly.
It took Alexander a few minutes to react to this statement, as he was nearly incapable of assimilating such a declaration. When he finally realized what she had said, he turned to her in disbelief. “Then why, my girl, did you refuse me? Didn’t you love me enough to marry me believing me to be a curate? I would have married you had you had been a scullery maid in your mother’s house.”
“I do not believe that.”
“Well, maybe not a scullery maid, but had we both been as poor as church mice, I would have still married you, even if we had to wait years before it was possible. I cannot believe that you did not feel the same.”
“I did not refuse you because you were a curate. Believe me, if I had thought you to be something as respectable as a curate, I would have accepted you gladly.”
“I do not understand. What did you think me to be if not what I said I was?”
“I thought . . .” Emily paused, and looked away, unable to meet his eyes. “I thought you were the highwayman,” she said finally, so softly that Alexander was not sure he had heard her correctly.
“Did you say you thought I was the highwayman?” Alexander asked incredulously, to the satisfaction of his audience, who had been unable to hear Emily’s remark and were pleased to have it repeated.
Emily nodded, looking up at him to observe his reaction. To her relief, he appeared more amused than angry.
“Is that why you asked all those questions about the source of my income?” he asked, smiling.
“Yes. And you must admit I had reason to be suspicious. You were attempting to hide your identity as Lord Wesleigh, and, as it was obvious you were hiding something, and I had no way of knowing you were really Lord Wesleigh, I assumed you were someone else. The only person I knew of whose identity was as yet undiscovered was the highwayman. I think it was a very logical conclusion to arrive at, under the circumstances,” Emily said defensively.
“My poor girl,” Alexander said, putting one arm around her and squeezing her gently. “You must have had a horrible time of it, and all the while I was accusing you of being heartless and mercenary.”
Emily just nodded her head, which had somehow found its way under his chin, to rest on his chest. “It’s all my fault for being such a romantic fool,” Alexander told her. “I wanted to know that you loved me for myself and were not just interested in my fortune.”
“Why, if that were all I was interested in, I would have made up to Sir Marcus while he was posing as you.”
“You forget, I accused you of that as well. And if you did not make up to him, why did he propose to you?”
“I have no idea. It came as a complete surprise to me.”
They sat quietly for a few minutes, enjoying the comfort of their embrace, while Alexander thought over the events of the past week in the light of this new information.
“So why did you follow Sir Marcus and me the night we went to catch the highwayman?”
“I had to convince myself my suspicions about you were correct. I thought you were out on another stealing spree.”
“With Sir Marcus?”
“I did not quite understand why he was present, and hoped that it signified I had made a mistake about you. Or, alternatively, I thought he might have been joining you for a lark.”
“Why did you not tell me after I rescued you that you had thought me the highwayman?” Alexander asked.
“I was afraid you would be horribly insulted. I did not realize you would think it so amusing, or you may be sure I would have told you immediately. However, after I found out the next day that you were actually Lord Wesleigh, I deeply regretted not telling you of my suspicion. I thought that you would never believe me after that, suspecting me of lying because I wished to marry you for your fortune.”
“And do you?”
“Do I what?”
“Wish to marry me, for any reason other than my fortune.”
“Is this a proposal? Because I must say, I enjoyed your first one far more, even when I suspected you of being a highwayman. And Sir Marcus, although he got a bit off the subject, interspersed his insults with a few compliments as well.” Alexander did not answer, intent instead on kissing the spot on her shoulder where he had been watching a curl bounce the last ten minutes. Emily, although pleasantly diverted by the tingle down her spine, was distracted by some noises that appeared to be issuing from the bushes to her left. She thought she heard someone complaining that they could not see what was happening, and opening her eyes, she saw her mother’s head appear from around the hedge. At first she was embarrassed to have been observed by her mother in a gentleman’s embrace, but as the duke and then Lydia and Sedgwick joined her mother, she began giggling. Alexander, oblivious to everything but his rising passion, looked at Emily in disapproval.
“You promised me, my girl, that you would attend to your next proposal with the gravity of a pallbearer,” he reminded her.
“Forgive me, my lord,” she replied demurely, “but once again the Bellingham Ladies Academy has failed me.”
“In what respect?” Alexander asked, a little impatiently.
“They failed to instruct me on the proper way to react when embracing a gentleman and then discovering my entire family observing me from behind a hedge.”
“What are you talking about?” Alexander asked, and Emily told him to take a look behind him. He did, and saw his father, Lady Smithfield, Lydia, and Sedgewick standing there, all of them looking a little sheepish. His father was the first to regain his savoir-faire and, approaching his son, asked if he could be the first one to wish him happy.
