words of love upon you?"
Rowena winced at his
bitter tone. "Certainly not, because how could I believe them? You have
made it sufficiently plain that you feel obliged to marry me because of your
conduct towards me two nights past, and you are not entirely averse to the idea
because you find that I have sufficient birth and beauty. Furthermore, my
handsome fortune no doubt adds to my other attractions. You will forgive me if
I am not overwhelmed by emotion at your proposal."
"Do I understand
then that you refuse my offer?" asked Alaric coldly.
Rowena suppressed a
tiny sob. She continued to gaze down at her lap, determined that he not see the
tears forming in her eyes. "It is very generous of you, my lord, but I
believe that it is unnecessary. No one is aware of what transpired between us,
and therefore I was not compromised. You are absolved of all responsibility."
Alaric felt like
swearing. The conversation was not going at all as he had expected. Although
his initial, precipitous, proposal had been unintentional, the longer he
thought about it, the more sensible it seemed. His instincts were sound; Rowena
would make him an exceptional wife. He glanced at her silent profile and felt
his blood quicken at the thought of her in his bed every night. She was
altogether unreasonable. It would be necessary for him to persuade her of the
wisdom of marrying him.
He pulled his
curricle up outside Lady Belmont's house. The horses fidgeted nervously as he
turned to look at Rowena.
"Does this mean
that our investigation is over?" she asked in a small voice. She wished
she had the strength to tell him she would not see him again, but the thought
of not being near him made her desperately unhappy.
Alaric snorted. Evidently
her concern for Malcolm far outweighed any concerns she might have about his
potentially bruised feelings. He wondered if she thought of him only as a
useful tool for clearing her brother's name. But she had responded to him so
passionately, she couldn't possibly have been pretending. He looked into her
hopeful violet eyes and smiled.
"Of course not,"
he said gently. "I may not have convinced you to marry me, but I trust you
will not cut me altogether."
She smiled warmly. "Thank
you, my lord. I look forward to hearing any news you might have."
"You will be the
first to know," he promised.
Rowena climbed down
from the curricle and walked slowly up the stairs to the house. She heard the
clatter of horses' hooves as the carriage pulled away. Struggling to tamp down
her emotions, she went into the house, hoping not to encounter her aunt. She
couldn't bear the thought of being questioned as to where she had been, and she
wanted to be alone to ponder what had just happened. Not only had Lord
Brayleigh actually proposed to her, she had turned him down.
She wondered if it
was a terrible mistake. When Alaric first said that he meant to marry her, it
had seemed that all her dreams had come true. But then he had dumped a bucket
of cold water over her head by making it clear he had proposed only because it
was his duty as a gentleman. He had said quite clearly that he did not love
her. And Rowena did not wish to be married to a man whom she loved hopelessly,
but who did not return her feelings. That, she thought savagely, would surely
be hell.
Alaric tooled his
curricle through the streets of London, his face grim. He was still
experiencing a strong sense of outrage at Rowena's rejection of his proposal. In
the past fifteen years innumerable women had tried to trap him, but never once
had he been sufficiently moved to make an offer of marriage to one. Now Rowena
Arlingby felt that she could turn him down simply because he had not declared
his love for her in a romantic fashion. Surely she didn't expect love poems
from him. He was a sensible man, and had presented to her a number of sensible
reasons why they should be married.
His eyes narrowed as
the carriage rapidly rounded a corner, missing a wagon by mere inches. She
Rowena winced at his
bitter tone. "Certainly not, because how could I believe them? You have
made it sufficiently plain that you feel obliged to marry me because of your
conduct towards me two nights past, and you are not entirely averse to the idea
because you find that I have sufficient birth and beauty. Furthermore, my
handsome fortune no doubt adds to my other attractions. You will forgive me if
I am not overwhelmed by emotion at your proposal."
"Do I understand
then that you refuse my offer?" asked Alaric coldly.
Rowena suppressed a
tiny sob. She continued to gaze down at her lap, determined that he not see the
tears forming in her eyes. "It is very generous of you, my lord, but I
believe that it is unnecessary. No one is aware of what transpired between us,
and therefore I was not compromised. You are absolved of all responsibility."
Alaric felt like
swearing. The conversation was not going at all as he had expected. Although
his initial, precipitous, proposal had been unintentional, the longer he
thought about it, the more sensible it seemed. His instincts were sound; Rowena
would make him an exceptional wife. He glanced at her silent profile and felt
his blood quicken at the thought of her in his bed every night. She was
altogether unreasonable. It would be necessary for him to persuade her of the
wisdom of marrying him.
He pulled his
curricle up outside Lady Belmont's house. The horses fidgeted nervously as he
turned to look at Rowena.
"Does this mean
that our investigation is over?" she asked in a small voice. She wished
she had the strength to tell him she would not see him again, but the thought
of not being near him made her desperately unhappy.
Alaric snorted. Evidently
her concern for Malcolm far outweighed any concerns she might have about his
potentially bruised feelings. He wondered if she thought of him only as a
useful tool for clearing her brother's name. But she had responded to him so
passionately, she couldn't possibly have been pretending. He looked into her
hopeful violet eyes and smiled.
"Of course not,"
he said gently. "I may not have convinced you to marry me, but I trust you
will not cut me altogether."
She smiled warmly. "Thank
you, my lord. I look forward to hearing any news you might have."
"You will be the
first to know," he promised.
Rowena climbed down
from the curricle and walked slowly up the stairs to the house. She heard the
clatter of horses' hooves as the carriage pulled away. Struggling to tamp down
her emotions, she went into the house, hoping not to encounter her aunt. She
couldn't bear the thought of being questioned as to where she had been, and she
wanted to be alone to ponder what had just happened. Not only had Lord
Brayleigh actually proposed to her, she had turned him down.
She wondered if it
was a terrible mistake. When Alaric first said that he meant to marry her, it
had seemed that all her dreams had come true. But then he had dumped a bucket
of cold water over her head by making it clear he had proposed only because it
was his duty as a gentleman. He had said quite clearly that he did not love
her. And Rowena did not wish to be married to a man whom she loved hopelessly,
but who did not return her feelings. That, she thought savagely, would surely
be hell.
Alaric tooled his
curricle through the streets of London, his face grim. He was still
experiencing a strong sense of outrage at Rowena's rejection of his proposal. In
the past fifteen years innumerable women had tried to trap him, but never once
had he been sufficiently moved to make an offer of marriage to one. Now Rowena
Arlingby felt that she could turn him down simply because he had not declared
his love for her in a romantic fashion. Surely she didn't expect love poems
from him. He was a sensible man, and had presented to her a number of sensible
reasons why they should be married.
His eyes narrowed as
the carriage rapidly rounded a corner, missing a wagon by mere inches. She
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