“Why all these questions, Emily? Is your love granted only to a person who meets a certain annual income? What, have you decided you cannot admire someone with less than five thousand a year? Or perhaps you rate your charms even more highly than that. Perhaps you have determined that someone with less than ten thousand a year is completely beneath your notice. I should have realized such a thing when you plainly stated your intentions to steal your sister’s intended husband.”
Emily had never been so insulted in her life. “How dare you! For you to imply I am the type of woman to put a price tag on my favors. Why, you may as well call me a prostitute to my face! I will have you know, it is not your income that decided me against you, but your dishonesty and lack of candor. I cannot love a gentleman who would hide what he is.”
Alexander looked shocked at this statement, wondering if she could be referring to his masquerade. No, he decided, it was merely an excuse on her part, to hide her mercenary motives. “So you cannot love me. One wonders, then, how well your plan to marry a certain marquess is unfolding. I assume, as his income is far in excess of ten thousand a year, you have irrevocably settled your heart on a brainless fop.”
“You, sir, are as untrue to your so-called friends as you are to me. You do Lord Wesleigh an injustice when you describe him in such a manner.”
“So I am correct. No lady could so nobly leap to a fellow’s defense without already having decided to begin practicing for a lifetime of such a role. I wish you happy, my girl. I hope you will not live to regret your choice.”
“If my choice is between you and him, than I cannot but make the wiser choice by choosing him.”
“I think you have made your feelings, or lack thereof, abundantly clear. I will take my leave of you, and I can only regret that I ever entertained feelings for someone who would judge a man by his fortune.”
He strode angrily from the room, leaving Emily alone. She began pacing the drawing room furiously, going over his insults in her head and telling herself she was glad she was to have nothing more to do with such a man. Her anger burned intensely for about a quarter of an hour after his departure, and she did not begin to regret her words until he had been gone for perhaps half an hour. It was only then that she remembered the light in his eyes as he had told her he loved her, and how that light had been extinguished completely by the end of their interview. Such thoughts could not but depress her, and she left the drawing room to go upstairs to her own chamber, where she proceeded to sob violently for what was left of the morning.
Lady Smithfield found at dinner that evening that both her daughters looked as sorrowful and lackluster as she had ever seen them. Both were pale and wan, with red, swollen eyes, and neither had more than a bite of dinner. She exchanged a look with the duke, but he persisted in being optimistic, and assured her when they were out of the girls’ hearing that his daughter had looked just as pitiful scarcely a week before her engagement was announced.
“And she was normally as sensible a girl as you have ever seen. Don’t know what it is exactly that makes them so silly when they fancy themselves in love, but I assure you, it’s nothing out of the ordinary.”
Lady Smithfield could not but reflect that she had not behaved in such a trying manner when Sir John had been courting her, but as her marriage was not what could be properly termed a love match, she felt herself unqualified to judge her daughters’ behavior.
Sir Marcus had been sadly ignored by the entire Smithfield family that day, but as he had spent most of the previous night buying drinks for every riffraff and scamp in the county, he was not sorry to be left in solitude. He was hopeful of catching the highwayman that evening, so it would be his last day on a sickbed in any case.
Alexander sneaked into Marcus’s chamber sometime after the household had gone to bed, determined to fulfill his promise to help Marcus catch the highwayman, but otherwise wanting very little to do with his erstwhile friend, who had stolen his ladylove in the most devious manner possible.
Marcus greeted Alexander with all the excitement of a gentleman who was about to perform an act of derring-do, but was quick to notice his friend did not share his high spirits. “You do not appear to be very excited for a man about to render a noble act for his country,” he commented.
“Perhaps I do not share the same affinity for traitors as you do,” Alexander replied, in his most cutting tone.
Marcus looked at Alexander in shock. “What the deuce is that supposed to mean?”
“I think you understand me.”
“You think wrong. I have no idea what has got you in such high dudgeon. You haven’t been drinking, have you? Because if you have, I’d rather you not join me this evening.”
“I am not drunk. I am merely referring to your traitorous behavior in making up to the girl you knew I wished to marry.”
“Not this again,” Marcus replied, rolling his eyes in exasperation. “I told you, there was nothing to any of that. She was just playing some songs for me on the pianoforte. I will not ever listen to her play again, if you’re going to make such a to-do about it. Why don’t you just do as I suggested and make the girl an offer?”
“I did make her an offer. She said she was engaged to you.”
Sir Marcus’s thunderstruck expression proclaimed his innocence more than any words could have. “’Pon my word, the girl is a liar. I thought she was a decent girl, but it seems these girls today cannot tell the truth for anything. First Lady Cynthia, now Emily. Makes a man want nothing more to do with the gentler sex.”
“Well, maybe she did not come right out and say you were engaged, but she implied it.”
Marcus looked at Alexander skeptically. “Oho, implied it, did she? Same way she was throwing herself at me when she played the pianoforte for me, I suppose. Tell you what, Alexander, you’ve gone a bit daft over this girl. You’re a regular demon of jealousy. A man can’t even talk to the lady before you’re imagining an intrigue.”
“I did not imagine anything. She told me plainly were she to choose between the two of us, she would choose you.”
Marcus tried to hide his pleasure in this comment, but failed miserably. “Did she, indeed? I never had a woman prefer me to you, at least not that I can remember, anyway. Daresay quite a few of them have, I just was not aware of it.”
“As much as I hate to disappoint you, I am fairly sure it’s not your golden curls that have inspired her to passion, but the fact that she thinks you a marquess, with a hefty allowance. In fact, I was almost positive that she returned my love, but apparently she is fonder of lucre than me.”
“Well, I’m sorry you were crossed in love, old man, but perhaps apprehending a traitor to the crown will put you in a better mood.”
Alexander agreed that nothing would bring him greater pleasure, and the gentlemen crept surreptitiously out of the chamber.
Emily had not been able to sleep. Every time her eyes would close, his face would appear. She would hear him telling her again how much he admired and loved her. And then she would see herself spouting some nonsense about practical matters when all she wanted to do was throw herself into his arms.
She reminded herself again that he was doomed to hang on the gibbet sooner or later, so it was probably better that she had ended it now, before matters had progressed even further. Then she would worry that perhaps he was not the highwayman after all, and she had allowed some silly suspicion to wreck all of her dreams.