“I did not!” Emma roared. “How dare you even suggest it!”
Alex merely raised a single eyebrow at her outburst. “So you do admit that you were in my coach this afternoon?”
“You know I was. There is no use denying it.”
“Indeed,” Alex agreed, leaning comfortably back into the chair.
“Make yourself right at home.”
Alex paid no attention to her sarcasm. “Thank you. You’re very kind. And now,” he commanded, “I would like a full explanation of how you came to be wearing servant’s clothes and traipsing around London unescorted.”
“What?!” Emma shrieked, outraged.
“I’m waiting for your explanation.” His voice was deadly patient.
“Well, you’re not going to get one, you highhanded louse,” she said bitterly.
“You’re very lovely when you’re angry, Emma.”
“Must you always say such outrageous things?”
Alex placed his hands behind his head and leaned back, as if he were pondering her angry question. “Actually, I’ve always prided myself on being slightly outrageous.”
“I’ll just bet you have,” she muttered.
“What was that?”
Emma decided to try another tactic. “I think you’re acting more than slightly outrageous. I may be from the United States, but even I know this is not at all the thing.” Emma sighed as she assessed her predicament. “Are you determined to ruin me? I’m trying so hard to make my uncle and aunt proud of me.”
Alex felt a twinge of guilt at his behavior when he saw Emma’s wistful expression. Her violet eyes glowed softly with unshed tears, and her hair seemed to shimmer like fire beneath the flickering glow of the candle. Tenderness washed over him, and he fought the need to hold her in his arms. He wanted to soothe her, protect her, not ruin her. Hell, he wasn’t even sure why he’d come up here in the first place.
But he knew he had to fight this strange tenderness toward the American girl. He’d yet to meet a marriageable young miss who could see beyond his title or his wealth. If he let himself feel anything for Emma, he knew he’d only get hurt. And somehow he instinctively knew that she had the power to wound him more deeply than any other.
And so he steeled his heart and sharpened his tongue. “I’m sure your aunt and uncle are most proud,” he said, his voice laden with sarcasm. “You had half the ton—the male half, that is—positively drooling over you. I’m sure you can expect half a dozen offers before the month is finished. You should be able to catch yourself quite a nice title.”
Emma flinched visibly at his verbal assault. “How can you say such cruel things? You don’t even know me.”
“You’re a woman,” he said simply.
“What has that got to do with anything?”
Alex noticed that, in her ire, Emma had thrown the pillow aside. Her skin flushed pink with anger, and her chest rose and fell with each deep breath she took. Alex thought she looked delectable but fought to keep his desire in check. “Women,” he explained patiently, “spend the first eighteen to twenty-one years of their lives sharpening their social skills. And when they think they’re ready, they go out into the world, attend a few parties, bat their eyelashes, smile prettily, and catch a husband. The higher the title and the more money the better. And half the time, the poor fellow doesn’t even know what hit him.”
Emma was obviously appalled, for her horror showed clearly on her face. “I cannot believe you just said that.”
“Insulted?”
“Completely.”
“You shouldn’t be. It’s the way of things. There’s nothing you or I can do about it.”
Emma suddenly felt her anger dissolve into pity. What on earth had happened to this man that had made him so hard, so cruel? “Haven’t you ever loved anyone?” she asked quietly.
Alex looked up sharply at her soft question and was surprised to see true concern in her eyes. “And have you loved so many that you’re an expert?” he countered in an equally soft voice.
“Not like that” Emma said pointedly. “But I will. Someday, I will. And until then, I have my father, and Uncle Henry and Aunt Caroline, and Belle and Ned. I couldn’t ask for a more wonderful family, and I love them all dearly. There’s absolutely nothing I wouldn’t do for them.”
Alex found himself wishing he were included in that privileged group.
“I know you have a family,” Emma continued, remembering her encounter with his sister. “Don’t you love them?”
“Yes, I do.” Alex’s expression softened for the first time that evening, and Emma couldn’t miss the love in his eyes when he thought of his family. He chuckled. “Maybe you are correct. It seems that there are a few women in the world who are worthy of love. Unfortunately, I seem to be rather closely related to all of them.”
“I think you’re frightened,” Emma said daringly
“I hope you intend to explain that comment.”
“You’re scared. It’s far easier to shut yourself off from people than to love them. If you keep your heart surrounded by strong walls, no one can get close enough to you to break it. Don’t you agree?” Emma looked up into his eyes and was startled by his intent gaze. Cursing herself for a coward, she looked away. “You…see…” she stammered, fighting to keep the courage she needed to speak to him in such a forward manner. “I can tell that you’re not a bad person. You obviously care for your family very deeply, so you must be capable of love. You’re just afraid to make yourself vulnerable.”