"Incognito" - читать интересную книгу автора (Allain Suzanne)

Chapter Fourteen

Alexander realized he had made a tactical error the moment he left the ballroom. Lady Cynthia had abandoned her haughty manner completely and was treating him with a flirtatious archness that made him very uncomfortable. His intention had been to use her to make Emily writhe with jealousy, as he had from Sir Marcus’s attentions to Emily. However, he had obviously not been thinking very clearly, because it was apparent from the way Lady Cynthia clutched at his arm that she had completely mistook his casual flirtation for something more serious.

“There,” he said, barely ten feet from the ballroom. “I am sure you are feeling more the thing now. Let us return to the ballroom.” He attempted to steer her in that direction, but she was not as fragile as she looked, and it was plain she had no intention of being led back into the ballroom.

“You are mistaken. I am still quite light-headed,” she drawled, laying her head against his arm.

“Then I am sure you must want your aunt. Allow me to fetch her for you,” Alexander said, growing more uncomfortable by the second.

“You are not very perceptive this evening. You must be aware that I do not want my aunt in the least,” Lady Cynthia replied, glancing up at him through half-closed eyes. She had perfected that look in the mirror, and had found it useful on many occasions to bend a recalcitrant gentleman to her will. Alexander thought she looked as if she had had too much to drink. He was quite relieved to hear that someone had exited the ballroom after them, and turned around quickly to see who it was.

Lady Cynthia, who had been practically reclining on Alexander’s arm, was startled when he withdrew his support, and she stumbled. She was quite annoyed when, as she attempted to regain her balance, she accidentally stepped on the flounce of her dress. There was a loud ripping sound, and to make her frustration complete, she looked up from an examination of her dress to see Emily Smithfield grinning at her predicament. While Emily felt sorry that Lady Cynthia had damaged her dress, she had been unable to completely hide her amusement at the sight of the graceful and elegant Lady Cynthia reeling about like a drunken sailor.

Before Lady Cynthia could speak, Alexander hailed Emily and her companion enthusiastically. “Miss Smithfield and, I believe it’s Mr. Watkins, is it not? What good luck in running into you like this.”

“I believe we have interrupted your, um, conversation,” Emily said, her implication plain.

“How astute of you—” Lady Cynthia began, in her haughtiest manner, only to be interrupted by Alexander.

“Nonsense. Your arrival is most fortuitous. Lady Cynthia has had an accident and needs to repair her dress. I am sure she would appreciate it immensely if you would escort her to the cloakroom, Mr. Watkins. I just remembered that I had promised to convey a message to Miss Smithfield.”

Lady Cynthia would have protested, but Alexander practically shoved her at Mr. Watkins, and, as Mr. Watkins had no objections to the scheme, Lady Cynthia found herself being returned to the ballroom by her insignificant escort. Mr. Watkins, who had only five minutes ago lost his heart irrevocably to Emily, decided he had been overly hasty and spent the rest of the evening trailing after Lady Cynthia, much to her dismay.

They were met on their way into the ballroom by Lady Smithfield, the duke, Lydia, and Sedgewick, who were quite surprised, and a little cheered, by the sight of Lady Cynthia and Mr. Watkins together. The group proceeded down the path and very quickly caught sight of Emily and Alexander, standing in the middle of a walk by a statue of a Greek goddess. As Alexander and Emily had not observed them, and none of the party wished to interrupt the couple, they quickly positioned themselves behind some bushes and shamelessly eavesdropped on the conversation.

Alexander was telling Emily in a voice that sounded more like that of an irate parent than a lover that she had some explaining to do.

“I beg your pardon?” Emily said, in her best imitation of Lady Abernathy.

“And so you should. What were you doing walking alone in the gardens with that young puppy?”

“I believe, sir, that you were also walking alone in the gardens with a companion who, if I were to continue 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.

“I would be happier were I allowed some privacy with my betrothed, but thank you,” Alexander said. “How long have you all been standing there?”

“Only a few seconds,” the duke replied.

“Yes, I believe they were behind the hedge before that,” Emily said, very tongue-in-cheek.

Lady Smithfield felt the wisest course would be to change the subject, and ran to embrace her daughter. “Emily, I could not be happier for you,” she said, pulling her up from the bench. Alexander rose as well, and found himself being clapped on the back by Sedgewick.

“Congratulations, old man. It appears we’re going to be brothers.”

There was an excited jabber of congratulations, and questions about who would be married first and where, while Alexander and Emily exchanged a look of disbelief. It appeared no one was going to offer an explanation for the family’s presence behind the hedge.

“Excuse me,” Alexander said, cutting into all the babble. “While Emily and I are overjoyed that we have everyone’s approval of our engagement, we feel that an explanation is in order.”

There was a long silence, while all in the group stared guiltily at the ground, and then the duke spoke. “I know I promised not to interfere, but, dash it all, you were sniffing around that yellow-haired chit like a dog in heat. Didn’t want you making a mull of everything.”

“And Lady Abernathy implied that your engagement to Lady Cynthia was imminent. If that had occurred, I would never have been able to hold my head up again,” Lady Smithfield chimed in.

“Don’t see what you have to complain about,” Sedgewick said, huffily. “You and Emily meddled in our courtship enough.”

“We only wanted to see you happy,” Lydia added.

“Well I, for one, am quite pleased at your interference,” Emily announced into the slight pause that had occurred after the rush of excuses.

“You are?” Alexander asked.

“I am. Knowing your propensity for assuming false identities and leading innocent females on to expect marriage, I am quite relieved that there were witnesses to your proposal. There will be no weaseling out of this engagement, my lord,” Emily said sternly.

Oblivious of his audience, Alexander caught Emily up in his arms and kissed her soundly. “The same holds true for you, my girl. No throwing me over for Mr. Watkins, or some other young puppy.”

Emily sighed, and attempted to look sorrowful. “But he tells the most amusing stories about horses,” she said, and began giggling.

While the engagement had not yet been formally announced, it was pretty well acknowledged when Emily and Alexander returned to the ballroom and danced every dance together. It was also impossible for Lady Smithfield to keep the news to herself, and Lady Abernathy was among the first to know. Lady Cynthia realized Alexander was a lost cause, and, as Sir Marcus was the second wealthiest man in the room, began flirting outrageously with him. Sir Marcus was able to palm her off on Mr. Watkins for a dance, and tracked down Alexander and Emily in the refreshment room.

“Alex, there you are. You’ve got to help me, old boy. Lady Cynthia won’t leave me alone,” Sir Marcus said plaintively, running his finger around his cravat in his anxiety. It was obvious he was laboring under a strong emotion, as he had ruined the perfection of its folds with that unconscious gesture.

“I wish I could help you, Marcus, but I do not see what I can do. You are clearly irresistible.”

“You could pay a little attention to her yourself,” Marcus suggested.

“I am sorry, but I am already engaged,” Alexander replied, gesturing at Emily, who stood a little to one side, to allow the gentlemen their privacy. However, she could still hear everything that was being said.

“I thought I heard a rumor to that effect,” Marcus said. “Are you sure you know what you’re about?” he whispered quite audibly. “She looks demure enough, but I have reason to know she can be the very devil when she wants to be.”

Alexander struggled with a reply, and Emily gave up pretending not to listen. “I am sorry, Sir Marcus, but you are too late,” she told him, moving to take Alexander’s arm.

“What’s that?”

“I have witnesses, you see. He cannot renege on his proposal.”

Sir Marcus looked with pity at Alexander, who was attempting to control his mirth. “I see. I thought it was Lady Cynthia you were after, or I would have warned you.” He returned to the ballroom, leaving Emily and Alexander by themselves.

“I still do not understand whatever prompted Sir Marcus to propose to me in the first place,” Emily said in wonder, when she had stopped laughing.

“After further thought on the matter, I believe that is my fault. I suggested to Marcus that you preferred him to me. Which you yourself said, if you recall.”

“I do not remember saying anything of the sort,” Emily replied.

“Emily! You most definitely said it. When I proposed to you in the drawing room of your mother’s house. You said if you had to choose between him and me, you would choose him.”

“I believe I said he would be the wiser choice. But then, I have never been known for my wisdom, or I would never have fallen in love with a penniless curate in the first place.”

“No, that would not have been wise, had I in fact been a penniless curate. Neither was it wise on my part to fall in love with a devilish, headstrong girl who will torment me all of our lives.”

Emily, although she did not have the benefit of Lady Cynthia’s experience in front of the mirror, was able to pout quite enchantingly, which she proceeded to do. Alexander was unable to resist the temptation of those puckered lips, and, looking around the refreshment room to ensure they had no audience, dropped a quick kiss on them. When Emily reached up and pulled him closer, Alexander realized his lifetime of torment had already begun.