Chapter 6

Chapter Six

A lex swore he would never drink again.

Who would have guessed that a simple glass of punch—a fairly innocuous mixture of rum, brandy, and wine—could result in a man finding himself engaged to a complete stranger by the end of the night? He had never noticed the drink affecting him so easily before, but then he'd never kissed a woman like that before, either. The entire night had been full of new experiences, and that the rest of his life would be changed forever seemed appropriate.

That didn't mean he wasn't still burning with rage as a result even days later. He regretted how his anger had exploded that night, for he'd tried for years to tamp down his temper, but the feelings still lingered. He was angry at himself for not catching the very obvious clues it was not Miss Frances he had been alone with. Angry at the duke for enforcing such an arrangement. Angry with that woman, whose trilling laugh and tender lips and jasmine scent had all but seduced him. Angry at himself again for letting the drink overtake his senses and weaken his defenses against such an enchantress.

Alex shook his head as he stormed down the busy London street. He could not think of her as such, for it would do him no good. But even the faintest memory of that night reminded him of her vigor in returning his kiss, that she met his every impassioned gesture. Granted, she had obviously thought he was someone else entirely, and he had assumed he held Miss Frances in his fierce embrace as well. But those brief moments of ignorance were too blissful to be easily forgotten.

A heat overtook his cheeks, despite the chill in the air around him, and Alex cleared his throat. He could not arrive at the appointment with the Duke of Norland appearing so… enamored, for it was certainly the last emotion he was feeling.

He pushed on through the streets, which were peppered with people out shopping or enjoying the rare sunshine. He was lost in his own thoughts and focused on his destination, and he did not meet their eyes or hear their words.

Until he heard his name.

"How dare Mr. Westcott show his face."

Alex blinked and stopped, looking up to see Miss Frances and her mother coming out of a hat shop. His heart broke, realizing how pale Miss Frances looked, and he did not miss the enraged glare from her mother. He swallowed, unsure of how to proceed, but thankfully, Miss Frances placed a hand on her mother's arm, saying something before walking the length of the sidewalk toward him.

Whipping off his hat, Alex bowed in greeting. "Good day, Miss Frances."

She nodded in response, no pleasure in her expression. "Good day, Mr. Westcott." She tucked a shawl tightly around her shoulders. "Are you well?"

"Decidedly not." Alex shook his head. "Miss Frances, please allow me to apologize for the night of Lady Hartfield's ball. It was a… disaster, to say the least, and I regret how everything unfolded." He felt the need to reach out for her hand, but he was certain that would be the last thing she wanted. "I ne ver wished to hurt you. I hope you know at least that much."

She took in his gaze steadily for a long moment. "Yes, I do know. I have tried to explain such to my mother, but she is still quite put out."

Alex winced. "Understandably so. Please offer her my apologies, and to your brother, as well." Oh Lud, her brother. Alex would have to avoid Mr. Allman for the rest of his days.

Miss Frances nodded. "I won't take much of your time, Mr. Westcott. I only wished to…" She swallowed before continuing. "I hoped you could provide some clarity on the situation. Explain what truly happened."

He wished he could avoid thinking of what happened that night, as it filled him with so much shame and regret. "I'm afraid I don't have much of a reasonable explanation. We had a lovely time dancing and had agreed to meet on the balcony, hadn't we?"

She nodded.

"I must have gone to the wrong balcony, and I assumed the young woman was you." Again his cheeks burned with the admission. "I hope you will spare her reputation and keep her name unsullied by gossip, whatever your feelings about me."

Miss Frances's eyes flared. "You care about her so much already?"

Alex shook his head and sighed. An engaged gentleman would never confess to caring for one woman while promised to another, but as of that moment, nothing had yet been signed. "You know I do not. But she will be my responsibility going forward, even though it is not how I had planned. I had…" Alex lowered his voice. "I had fully intended to offer for you that night. Nervous if you would accept me."

A cold breeze passed them by, and the tension faded from her face. "Thank you for saying so. It has put my mind at ease." Then she straightened her shoulders. "And I would have accepted you, but that will not be a future for us, will it?"

Pursing his lips, Alex looked to his boots. How her words twisted his stomach.

"I will be leaving again for the country. I have a friend who has requested my company, and will remain there for the season, so our paths will not cross again, I dare say." She gave him a small smile, but he could tell it was forced. "I bear you no ill will, Mr. Westcott. Despite how things have transpired, I wish you every happiness."

As she bobbed in a curtsy and returned to her mother's side, Alex found he had no words for her. He could wish her well, but it would be no boon to her broken heart. Nor his.

Alex waited until they had disappeared from sight, hoping that the ache in his chest would leave with them, but nothing would relieve him of that regret. Perhaps it would live with him for the rest of his days.

He again stormed down the street, heading toward his appointment with the duke and the bishop. He nearly missed the building entirely and would have walked right by had it not been for the sound of hearing his name. "Mr. Westcott."

Alex turned to find the Duke of Norland holding the door open to his very fine carriage. "A moment of your time, please."

Clenching his jaw, Alex pursed his lips and stepped into the carriage. The duke closed the door, securing them both inside.

"Your Grace," Alex grumbled without an ounce of respect. "Shall we not be late for this appointment you claimed to be urgent?"

"I must make one thing certain before we are to proceed." The duke sat straight in the large, cushioned seat, not appearing in the least bit put off by Alex's disregard. "I have gone to work investigating your character, your family, your history, to determine just what kind of man you truly are. You mentioned that there were rumors, and there are, in abundance. That you are as terrible and ruthless as your father. That he cheated wealth from the wealthy for his own gain, that he had no respect for his family or his marriage, that no one was safe from his mistreatment or cruelty. And some people say the very same about you."

Bile rose in Alex's throat. That is the kind of man his father was, the sort of man that Alex despised.

"But that is not who you are, is it?" Norland said.

Alex's eyes shot up.

"From those who know you best, there is nothing but respect and praise. How meticulously you found a worthy suitor for your sister, and a respectable man for your mother as well. How you guarded your family's inheritance on their behalf, and still somehow managed to keep your name from any real mischief. But what I need to know is, who is the real Alex Westcott? Are you the scoundrel or the gentleman?"

Alex lifted his chin. He wished he could force the lies to get himself out of the arranged marriage, but he cared too much what society thought. He couldn't ruin Edwina's chances for his own selfishness. "The rumors about my father are true, and that general dislike has passed to me now that he's dead, merely because I am his son. But I am not the sort of man he was."

"I am glad to hear it. For it was the one thing I wanted to be perfectly clear." The duke leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "The way you have fought to protect your sisters is precisely how I feel for my ward. If you dare to mistreat her, by means of wasting her inheritance away or flagrantly disregarding the marriage vow, if I hear of any verbal or physical misconduct, then I will do what I promised on that balcony and demand you meet me at dawn. Do we have an understanding? "

There was no way to misunderstand him. The Duke of Norland could not have been clearer. Alex had no intention of disrespecting his wife, no matter how reluctant he was to join the marriage. But he would have to learn how to rein in his temper, for he did not want to even toe the line that would bring down the duke's wrath. Even more than that, Alex wanted to remain far from the sort of man his father was.

"We do." Alex nodded.

"Very well. Then let us proceed." He opened the door and motioned for Alex to exit the carriage first. Stepping back out into the daylight, Alex straightened his coat and waited to follow after the duke inside. Their meeting with the bishop was to sign the marriage license.

But for Alex, it felt like they would be shackling him to prison for eternity.