A Valentine Wedding by Jane Feather

Alasdair could see again the look in her eye as she’d thrown her challenge. And it made him very uneasy. He hesitated for a moment, thinking that perhaps he would go back and try to put things right between them. They had both said things that should not have been said, and he should never have kissed her as he had done, even in the face of blatant provocation. But he knew he was still too angry to try to make peace. If he went back to Mount Street in his present frame of mind, it would only make matters worse. He would be out of town for a few days. It would give them both much-needed space and time to cool off.
    And he needed a cool head to deal with this other business. A frown crossed his eyes. It was like looking for the proverbial needle in a haystack. Would Ned have sent such a sensitive document to Emma?
    He climbed the steps to the house where he had his lodgings, and the door was opened before he could reach for the knocker. “Your portmanteau is packed, Lord Alasdair. The post chaise should be here any minute.” His manservant stepped aside to allow his master entrance to the hallway.
    “Good. Thank you, Cranham. I’ll leave within the half hour.” Alasdair’s apartments were on the ground floor, and as he reached his own front door a step sounded on the stairs. He glanced over his shoulder and nodded courteously at the man descending the stairs. He didn’t know him but guessed he must have taken the suite of rooms above his own, which had been empty for several weeks.
    “Good morning. Am I addressing Lord Alasdair Chase?” The man spoke pleasantly and came forward with an open smile and hand outstretched. “I understand that we’re to be neighbors. I have taken theassure you that Emma Beaumont and I are perfectly capable of moving in the same circles without tearing each other’s throats out.” He told the lie with perfect aplomb and stepped away from the phaeton, suggesting gently, “Maybe you’d like to spread the word, Darcy. I’d hate society to be holding its breath for a reopened scandal.”
    “Yes … yes, of course.” Darcy looked awkward. “No offense, I trust.”
    “None whatsoever.” Alasdair raised his hat in a jaunty gesture, and his friend drove off.
    Alasdair’s expression hardened. He could expect the old scandal to be chewed over with relish for a week or two. The situation would intrigue the gossips and provide speculation in the clubs of St. James’s, where he knew that within days bets would be on as to who would bring the wealthy Lady Emma to the altar. There would be sly comments on his own situation as the once jilted suitor, and if he was to keep both pride and dignity intact he’d have to behave as if he were completely untroubled by the past. There must be no apparent tension between him and Emma—and that, after this morning’s misery, would be no easy task.
    His anger surged anew and his step quickened as he turned onto Brook Street. He despised the use of violence, but he’d come very close to it that morning, and even now he was sorely tempted to go back to Mount Street and box her ears—either that or wring her neck! Of all the absurdities! Threatening to marry the first man who offered for her! And then that nonsense about taking a lover! Emma had always been a headstrong, impetuous creature, but she was no one’s fool Surely she didn’t expect him to believe she meant to do something so insane.
    But even as he thought this, Alasdair could see again the look in her eye as she’d thrown her challenge. And it made him very uneasy. He hesitated for a moment, thinking that perhaps he would go back and try to put things right between them. They had both said things that should not have been said, and he should never have kissed her as he had done, even in the face of blatant provocation. But he knew he was still too angry to try to make peace. If he went back to Mount Street in his present frame of mind, it would only make matters worse. He would be out of