May 1813

Lady Alexandra Wilton regarded her father with apprehension. Her answer was going to make him furious, but unfortunately it was the only answer she was capable of making. Bracing herself to withstand the storm, she said, "I am very flattered by Lord Barrington's offer, Papa, but I cannot marry him."

The Earl of Hartford's once-handsome but now-dissipated face began to turn the color of a tomato.

"What?" he roared. "God damn it, Alex, Barrington is the biggest catch of the year! He has a fortune in the funds as well as a very decent title. True, a viscount may not be the equal of an earl, but the Barrington name is even older than ours." "I know, Papa," Alexandra answered unhappily.

The earl and his daughter were sitting in the library at Gayles, the earl's country house in Derbyshire. The bright spring sun poured in through heraldic glass windows, illuminating the rich leather covers of the myriad shelved books. The earl regarded his daughter, who was seated on the opposite side of his mahogany desk, with distinct disfavor.

"Barrington is a very decent fellow," he said.

Alexandra sighed. "He is very nice, Papa, I will agree with you. It is most unfortunate that I cannot love him."

The earl clasped his hands in front of him on the desk. "You cannot love Barrington," he said ominously. "Nor could you love the Earl of Ashcroft, to whom you actually became engaged last year. After you jilted him, I despaired of you ever getting another offer. Now here you have the Catch of the Season asking for your hand, and you are going to turn him down?"

The earl's voice had become progressively louder as he listed the details of Alexandra's transgressions.

"If I become engaged to him, I would only jilt him, too, Papa, and you would not like that at all," she replied in a reasonable tone.

The earl pounded his clasped hands on the desk. "This obsession of yours with love is ridiculous. Has it never occurred to you, my girl, that love might come after marriage?"

A tiny frown indented the smooth perfection of her forehead. "But what if it doesn't, Papa? Then I would be forced to spend the rest of my life shackled to a man I didn't love."

"Believe me, Alex, there are worse things in life," her father informed her.

Alexandra shuddered. "What could be worse than that?"

"Ending up your life as a bloody spinster, that's what!" the earl roared. "And that is precisely what is going to happen to you, my girl, if you continue on in this fashion. You may be as beautiful as Helen of Troy, but no man is going to offer for you if you get the reputation as a flirt as well as a jilt."

"I am sorry to upset you, Papa . . ." Alexandra began, but the earl swept on.

"You do upset me! You are the only child I have left, the only chance I have of seeing my blood carried on into another generation. Don't you think I already have enough to bear? Because of your brother's suicide, I must see my title and property go to my cousin's son, not my own."

Alexandra was very white. "I wish to marry, Papa," she said. "I want a husband and children. It is just very important to me that I marry a man I love."

The earl made a visible effort to control himself. "My dear, I can assure you that most young girls do not love their husbands when they wed. They marry because their husbands are compatible in temperament and in worldly position. Love grows after the knot is tied. Viscount Barrington seems to me a perfectly lovable young man. I am sure you will grow to hold him in affection."

"I already hold him in affection," Alexandra said. "I just do not love him."

"What the bloody hell do you know about love?" the earl roared, turning a dangerous shade of red once again. "You are twenty-one years old and a virgin! Believe me when I tell you that your husband will teach you to love him."

Alexandra lifted her chin. "I know enough about love to know that it can't be taught, Papa. It is either there or it is not."

"Please don't tell me that you're waiting for Romeo to come and climb up your balcony, Alexandra," the earl said with heavy sarcasm.

"But suppose he did come, Papa, and I was already married?" Alexandra said with perfect logic. "That would be truly terrible."

The earl looked exasperated. "Alex, you have had too many Seasons not to know the way of the world. Should your Romeo eventually come along, there would be nothing to stop you from having him. As long as you were discreet."

Alexandra shook her head. "That may be the way of the world, Papa, but it is not my way," she said.

"I will never know how I came to have such a simpleton for a daughter," the earl said disgustedly.

I am this way because I don't want a marriage like your marriage to Mama, Alexandra thought. But she said nothing.

"Listen to me, my girl. I want you to take Barrington," the earl said. "He loves you, and I guarantee that in time you will learn to love him in return."

"Lord Barrington is a very fine man," Alexandra said. "He is generous and kind, and I think he does love me. If I were going to fall in love with him, I would have done so already."

The earl regarded his daughter with frustration. His comparison of her to Helen of Troy had not been exaggerated, but her face was more than just classically beautiful. There was a suggestion of great sweetness about the curves of her cheekbones and mouth that produced an effect that was intensely stirring.

He thought that one would never know to look at her that she was stubborn as a mule.

The earl had presented his daughter to society three years before, and since then she had collected more marriage offers than her father could remember. The previous year she had finally accepted one of them, only to decide a month before the wedding that she had made a mistake. Now here she was, turning down the finest young man available on the Marriage Mart today.

The future was suddenly very clear to the earl. If he didn't do something to force her hand, Alexandra was never going to marry at all.