Chapter Twenty

A lex felt like a caged animal. While knowing he and Clarity had conducted themselves irresponsibly, even dangerously — for broken bones were no laughing matter — he couldn't shake the notion he'd behaved in keeping with his genuine nature.

Instead of thinking first, considering the ramifications and consequences as he'd done since his early days at boarding school and which had been lodged deep into his brain while studying law, he had simply acted.

Proceeding without pontification and doing something that might make one smile.

Whatever had gotten into him?

It was a rhetorical question for he knew what had got into him. Or rather, who .

But his aunt had made promises to Miss Brambury, maybe even to her parents. And she'd invited Emmeline to the Diamonds' house party with the hope of bringing them closer together. Fortunately, there was nothing on paper. Moreover, Alex personally had made no verbal avowal. At least, he couldn't be taken to court to plead in his own defense over breaking his word or a contract.

Truthfully, he had no cause not to choose the lady his aunt thought best. Emmeline was precisely what he'd imagined he wanted in a wife. Even then, as they trod through the pasture back toward the manor, she had not a hair out of place, nor a hint of a smudge, or even a stray leaf or flower petal on her.

Yet now, he couldn't stop thinking of what he most desired. Clarity was visible ahead, about to turn up the path to the rear of her family's home. Her hair was a fright, she was dirty, and had so many leaves stuck into the gauzy outer layer of her day gown, she was more tree than woman, practically ready for a costume ball.

"I completely understand what occurred here this morning," Miss Brambury said as Clarity took a turn in the path, disappearing from sight, and Alex could direct his attention back to the lady at hand.

"Do you?"

"Yes," she insisted. "When I return to my family's estate in Essex, I find myself not only behaving more immaturely but also cleaving to the things from my happy childhood. Why, I might gaze fondly at the porcelain dolls arranged on the shelf in my room."

"Might you?" he asked, thinking that made for a poor childhood.

"I have sometimes asked our cook to make me her porridge with sultanas, which I loved as a child. There is nothing quite like the food one remembers fondly. Or I might ask the maid-of-all-work to whip me up a batch of clay in order to sculpt something. Even when very young, I was talented."

"Whip you up a batch of clay?" Alex repeated, feeling a feather of amusement tickle him. Obviously, Emmeline had no idea where clay came from, and thus, he doubted her story of being a young Michelangelo. Clarity's boasting must have irked her more than he'd realized. It was no matter, but he suddenly had a question.

"Do you wish to become a mother?"

Behind them, his aunt gasped, and he wondered if such a question were inappropriate. He sensed it was slightly vulgar, as it evoked how one became a mother.

"If you don't mind my asking," he added to soften the query.

Emmeline blinked. "Lord Hollidge, I am a normal female with the natural inclination to bear children. I know my duty to give you an heir, and I know my duty to have extras in case our eldest is not fortunate enough to survive to maturity."

He faltered a step. Good lord, but the lady sounded exactly as he might have a few weeks ago. There was a lot more to having children than bringing them up merely so they could survive and then have their own children.

The three of them had turned onto the path, but Clarity had vanished already into the house.

"What of fun?" Alex asked Emmeline.

"Fun?" she echoed.

"Yes. Fun ."

"What do you mean, my lord?"

"I don't know what you're asking," he chided. "You know the word, do you not?"

"Hollidge!" his aunt chastised him.

Without heeding her, he added, "It's a perfectly good word meaning amusement. And I am wondering what you think about children having fun, and you with them, for that matter."

Emmeline gaped like a fish, then answered. "I suppose I haven't thought about it at all."

"Not once?" he asked. "Not once in your whole life have you thought about fun?"

Emmeline smirked but didn't really smile.

Had he ever heard her laugh?

"Assuredly, I have thought about fun," she insisted. "I like to take tea with my friends or even have a glass of wine with them."

"Yes," he urged, "and what else?" If she didn't at least mention charades, all hope was lost.

"There are drawing room games, as long as they're not too boisterous," she allowed.

He recalled the evening with the Diamonds lately when it had dissolved into hooting and howls of laughter. Emmeline's games sounded dull. Perhaps he could remind her of things she liked that were fun, and it would spur other activities.

"You enjoy riding," he said.

To his astonishment, she made a face. "I do, but it's not because it is amusing, my lord. I do it to see others who are out riding. Not only for their fashion, but for their pairings."

"Pairings?" he repeated.

"Yes, my lord. To see who might be a couple. That's fun."

Was it? He didn't think so.

"How about a fast ride for the excitement of it?"

She shook her head, appearing shocked.

"For the benefit of physical exercise?" he persisted.

"Physical exercise?" Emmeline repeated, frowning again.

Alex knew their association was over. Emmeline was the stickiest stick, and he no longer could bear it.

They stepped onto the Diamonds' paved terrace, and he ought to usher her inside. However, he was determined to finish the telling conversation first.

"Yes, Miss Brambury. Fresh air, deep breathing, moving your body, and all that."

Her brow cleared. "Oh, I don't believe in any of that nonsense."

"You ... don't ... believe ... in ... fresh ... air?" Each word came out slowly, incredulously. The feather tickling his insides became an entire bird, clucking its amusement. Before he could stop himself, he barked out a laugh. Then he snorted and laughed harder.

"What is it?" Emmeline pleaded. "I fear you are having a fit, my lord."

His aunt, well aware he was in a paroxysm of good humor, made an exclamation of frustration and walked past him into the house.

Still, Alex didn't answer since he was laughing too hard to breathe. Then he wheezed and finally coughed before he could stand up straight once more and catch his breath.

"My apologies, Miss Brambury. I was gripped by a bout of that amusement we were speaking of, and I am out of practice. Anyway, where were we? You were explaining how you don't believe in air."

"Not at all, my lord. I meant that I do not hold with this fiddle-faddle about needing to take in great gulps of it or to exert one's body. I believe the Town air is perfectly fine, nourishing in its hardiness, indubitably created from the rich minerals of the coal being burned. And I certainly don't think it's a good idea to tire out one's body, risking early old age and advanced deterioration."

He shook his head. "It is a wonder how much thought you have given to not exercising and yet how little you have given to having fun."

She opened her mouth, then shut it. Finally, she gave a delicate shrug.

"You needn't worry, my lord. I shall always behave in an entirely appropriate manner. You will never have to worry about my embarrassing you or causing you a moment's misgiving by doing anything childish."

"I believe you," he said. "I am sorry to say that is the main reason I must let you know I cannot go along with my aunt's wishes regarding a union between us. I may as well tell you now before your heart grows in the least attached to the idea of becoming my viscountess."

He had little fear she would actually become attached to him personally.

She blinked at him. "But we are perfect for one another," she protested. "Perhaps when Lady Clarity fell out of the tree and landed upon you, she damaged your skull."

"On the contrary. When Lady Clarity fell upon me, she knocked some sense back into my head." He held the door open, but she didn't move.

"Are you seriously rejecting an engagement between us?" Emmeline demanded with more passion and heat than at any moment since he'd met her.

"I am," he said, and the relief Alex felt at no longer having to pretend to wish to marry her was like a sweet, cleansing rain. "And may I point out we are alone without a chaperone? Your parents would not be pleased."

Emmeline gasped, looking around her. "They most definitely would not. I cannot believe you have allowed me to be compromised in this fashion."

"Never fear. I don't think anyone would consider you capable of being compromised, not with your rigidly incorruptible morals and your unyielding disposition."

With that, Alex gestured for her to enter, but he didn't follow. Slowly, he wandered toward the stables, almost without realizing it. Once there, he climbed the ladder into the hay loft and lay down his body, bruised from being attacked by an elm tree and providing a cushion for Clarity.

There, in the sweet-smelling clean hay, he had a great deal of thinking to do.