Page 17 of The Mister I Married

His lips parted but no words emerged.

Tess’s brows dipped and she leaned forward, propping her elbows on her knees. “You do want to marry, don’t you?”

Alex resisted the urge to cross his arms over his chest, but only just. “Of course I do,” he said. “I came to London for just that purpose, didn’t I? To find a bride?”

Tess sat back again and shrugged. “I thought so, but we’ve been here for weeks, and I haven’t seen you display even a bit of interest in anyone.”

“That doesn’t mean I haven’t been looking,” he argued.

Except, he hadn’t, had he? And he suspected his sister knew it.

Tess arched a brow, her brown eyes dubious. “So,” she said slowly, “you’ve been looking all this time yet not a single lady has caught your eye?”

“Of course not. Several ladies have caught my eye.” It wasn’t a lie. London was teeming with pretty women, and he’d looked his fill.

“Yet I haven’t seen you speak to a single one,” Tess said.

“Except for Lady Emmaline, of course,” Aunt Lawrence supplied, her delivery suspiciously innocent.

“You know, Aunt, that is an interesting point,” Tess said thoughtfully. “He talks to Emmy rather a lot, doesn’t he?”

Alex shifted in his seat, less than comfortable with the turn the conversation had taken.

“And he even smiles when he’s with her,” Aunt Lawrence said, the whispered words loud enough to be heard on the moon. “I’ve seen it with my own eyes, and it fills my heart with happiness.”

The look she shot him was nothing short of mischievous as she pressed three gloved fingers to her mouth in a half-hearted attempt to hide her smile.

Tess made no such effort.

“Well, Alex?” she said, grinning broadly at him. “What do you have to say to that?”

Alex shrugged, even as the tips of his ears burned. “Absolutely nothing.”

Tess reached out and slapped his knee. “Come on, out with it! Are you interested in Emmy or not?”

Interested? Hell yes, he was interested. He was damn near infatuated, but he would sooner drink water from the Thames than admit to it.

“Emmy is a lady,” he said. “A marquess’s daughter.”

Tess cocked her head to one side. “That does not answer my question.”

Alex sighed. He was fond of his sister, but she could be a pain in the arse at times. “Emmy does not want to marry,” he said flatly. “So, even if I wished to pursue her, she would not have me.”

Tess’s brow furrowed. “Is that true? How do you know that?”

“She told me.”

Aunt Lawrence shook her head. “I’ve always thought she was a rather unusual girl, but I never knew she was a radical. Imagine not wanting her own husband and family!” She clucked her tongue. “What a waste of a pretty girl.”

“Yes,” Tess murmured, her gaze fixed on Alex. “What a waste.”

Mercifully, the carriage pulled to a stop then, putting an end to the conversation and Alex’s discomfort. Although, as he climbed out of the carriage and followed his aunt and sister up the front steps toward their townhouse door, his mind was still on Emmy and the myriad emotions she inspired in him.

He liked spending time with her, but at the same time, he wasn’t sure he should. It bothered him that she did not wish to marry, and that feeling frustrated him, because he knew, logically, that even if she did want to marry, there was no reason to believe she would marry him.

Still, he craved that glimmer of hope, and as it stood now, there was none. He felt the loss of it more than he’d realized, but sharing with his family the reasons Emmy would not be his—voicing them out loud—had made it all the more real, and the disappointment he’d felt in his gut as he said the words was indisputable. Yet it was not surprising.

In a seemingly inexhaustible pool of pretty young ladies, Emmy shined, a pansy amongst roses. How unfortunate for him that the only interesting woman in London had no interest in marriage. Or in him.