When Wiggins would have announced him, Alexander begged him not to, and instead stood for almost a quarter of an hour, watching Emily play. If he hadn’t been so in love, he would have been ashamed to observe her thus; for when playing her face was so expressive, her emotions so obvious, it was as if her soul was nakedly exposed. Totally unself-conscious, not aware she was being observed, her body was almost an extension of the music, and she swayed in a manner her mother would have been sure to denounce as vulgar had she been present.

When the piece she had been playing came to an end, Alexander spoke before she could begin another. “Emily.”

Emily started, jumping up from the bench so quickly she almost knocked it over. “Mr. Williams! You startled me.”

“I apologize. Indeed, I did not know how to make you aware of my presence without startling you. You were so engrossed in the music.”

Emily was embarrassed that he had observed her such, and hurried to invite him to sit down. “I am not sure where my mother and sister are this morning,” she said. “I will have Wiggins call them.” She moved as if to do so, and Alexander stopped her.

“Please do not. It is you I have come to see, and our privacy suits my purpose very well.” Although he had just sat down, he jumped up and proceeded to pace back and forth, before startling her again by abruptly kneeling at her side.

“Emily. I have made no secret of my feelings for you. I admire you exceedingly, indeed, I love you. Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

Emily did not know how to react. In all of her daydreaming, she had never imagined quite this scene. She had been sure that Alexander had been trifling with her, and, because of this, had never envisioned he would propose to her. Now she was at a loss to know how to respond.

Alexander was not entirely daunted by her silence. He laughed a little nervously, and reminded her that it was generally considered good form to make a reply to an offer of marriage.

“I am sorry, it is just that I do not know how to respond,” she answered in all honesty.

“Well, I am not an entirely disinterested party, but I think that an answer in the affirmative would be a good choice.”

Emily looked into the handsome face, whose lines she had memorized, and wished with all her heart she could make such a reply. But her doubts were such that she knew they would have to be overcome before she could ever do so. “Believe me, I desire nothing more than to answer in the affirmative, but there are practical matters to consider.”

Alexander rose, to sit in a nearby chair. “Practical matters?” he asked.

“Indeed. I am not sure if you know the extent of my dowry, but it is only two thousand pounds, and, as a curate, I cannot think you make more than fifty pounds a year. How are we to live on one hundred fifty pounds a year? Where are we to live? As romantic as it would seem to deny the importance of such matters in comparison with one’s feelings, these things must be considered.”

Alexander admitted to himself the truth of this statement, but wondered if this was a polite way of saying she would only marry a man of rank and fortune, no matter what her feelings. “I concede your point, but I would not propose if I did not have the means of taking care of you. Believe me when I say you will not want for anything.”

This statement had the opposite effect for which it was intended. Emily, who was already suspicious of Alexander’s source of income, felt he was as good as announcing that he was the highwayman. Her heart sank to hear him make such an announcement, but she was determined to uncover the truth.

“Might I inquire into the source of these means?”

Alexander looked uncomfortable, almost guilty, which only confirmed Emily’s suspicions. He could not think of a way of reassuring her without revealing the whole truth, and that would defeat the entire purpose of his charade. He wanted to hear she loved him as a curate, not as the heir to a dukedom. He began to grow angry that she was subjecting him to such an examination. When he had envisioned this scene, Emily had fallen gratefully into his arms, proclaiming her love and devotion for him. This inquisition was a far cry from what he had imagined.

“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.