Alexandra sat quietly pretending to read in the back yard. Today she had begged off any social engagements and was instead spending time organizing her thoughts. Contrary to her expectations, Alexandra found that she was enjoying her time in Providence immensely. Bertie, for he had insisted that the only woman who called him Bertrand was his mother and she only did that when she was highly displeased with him, was great company. During the days they went riding, sailing, walking, and engaged in all sorts of amusing activities. Most nights were spent at dinner parties and balls.

Bertie was quite the charmer and Alexandra could not help but feel the irresistible pull of his personality. He and James were like mirror images of each other. Bertie was fair with boyish good looks; James was dark with masculine features. Bertie was all fun and frivolity with unexpected moments of seriousness; James was all duty and sobriety with flashes of merriment. Bertie made her feel beautiful and captivating; James made her feel… Well now here was the crux of the problem. How did James make her feel? He certainly had made her feel desire and desirable but that had lasted only one evening. Most of the time he made her feel frustrated and angry. The voice of her conscience softly added that James also made her feel protected and safe and valued. Because she was trying to talk herself into an affair, she determinedly shut that voice out. Her silent contemplation was broken by a cheerful greeting.

"Hello, Alexandra. I've come to talk you into going riding. Today is far too lovely a day to waste sitting here." Bertie approached her and spied the book in her lap, "Dante's Inferno? I see that I've arrived not a moment too soon."

Alexandra noticed that he kept his hands behind his back and demanded, "What have you got hidden, Bertie? Surely you've not raided Mrs. Shaw's garden again? She'll tell your mother, you know."

"Alexandra, how you wound me to suggest that I would bring you pilfered goods." Bertie's attempt at a sorrowful expression was marred by the quirking of his lips. "Come now. Close your eyes and hold out your hands or you won't receive my offering."

Giving him a suspicious and skeptical look, Alexandra did as she was told. Her hands were filled with something warm and fuzzy and moving! She opened her eyes and smiled with delight. In her hands was a tiny black kitten. It began caterwauling for attention. "Bertie, he's so sweet. Noisy, but sweet," she laughed.

"I thought that you could use another friend and he seemed lonely as well," Bertie offered with unusual solemnity and then added cheekily, "Being a good boy I checked with Mrs. Norrington first and she had no objections to the fur ball. He'll make a good foot warmer when the weather turns colder." He noticed that he had lost Alexandra's attention. She was busy cuddling the kitten against her cheek and neck and making little cooing noises. The kitten began purring and fell asleep. "Come on let's go inside and put the little horror in his basket. Then you can change for our ride."

"Oh, but I can't leave him," Alexandra protested.

"If he's anything like his siblings, he'll sleep most of the day and keep you up with his crying at night. Come along and get dressed. I've brought a picnic for us. I promise he'll still be here when we return and we can use the time to think of a name for him."

Alexandra allowed herself to be persuaded for she really did enjoy riding with Bertie. Unlike James who took her to task for riding recklessly, Bertie egged her on daring her to ride faster and jump higher hedges. They rode along the beach in a companionable silence. Then as if he could stand the tranquility no longer Bertie challenged, "Race you to the point," and he was off in a blur.

Alexandra spurred her horse on. It was marvelous galloping along at full speed with the ocean breeze and the sound of the waves. Bertie beat her by less than two lengths. "You cheated," she accused.

Bertie dismounted and untied the saddle bag. 'Of course I did. Would you expect anything less of me?" he roguishly inquired and then helped her dismount. "You lost and therefore owe me a forfeit."

"We made no wager."

"Now, Alexandra, a wager is always implied in these matters. You would not wish for me to spread it around town that you are a welsher?" he teased.

"Very well. What is the forfeit?" she good naturedly grumbled.

"Let me think. Hhmm... Your forfeit is…" He looked down into her laughing face and was about to demand the first dance at the next ball when he changed his mind, "Your forfeit is a kiss."

"A kiss?" she whispered.

"Yes. A kiss."

They both stood staring at each other for a moment and then he gently cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. Unlike the time that Smythe had kissed her, Alexandra did not feel repulsed. In fact, it was rather enjoyable. Bertie broke the kiss and searched her face for signs of rejection. Finding none, he drew her into his arms and deepened the kiss. A few minutes later they pulled apart and quietly regarded each other.

Finally, Bertie ruefully broke the silence, "Not quite the thing was it?"

Relief coursed through Alexandra. Thank goodness it had been the same for him. "I'm afraid not. It was pleasant enough." Bertie issued a snort of mock outrage. "But it was rather like kissing my brother."

Bertie clutched his hand to his heart and dramatically complained, "Oh you do know how to wound a man, Alexandra." Becoming serious for a moment he agreed, "No spark. Logically, there should be. We're very well suited. I guess it doesn't help when hearts are engaged elsewhere."

"My heart is not elsewhere engaged," denied Alexandra.

"Really Mrs. Norrington?" Bertie inquired disbelievingly.

Seeking to refute his implication she insisted, "My marriage is one of convenience and not love."

"Then your husband is an imbecile and less of a man than I thought him."

"James is not an imbe…" Alexandra began to vehemently deny and then seeing Bertie's smug smile realized that he had caught her out. "Damn you, Bertie. You think you're so clever."

"Not clever, Alexandra. Merely observant and a student of human nature. A woman does not travel for several days to escape a husband if there are no feelings involved. Now why don't you sit down and while we eat you can tell Uncle Bertie all about it?"

So Alexandra told him the story of her relationship for the first time acknowledging the depth of her feelings for James. She left out the more intimate details but he was left with the gist.

"Alexandra, something about this doesn't add up. He left a note saying that he wanted to keep to the original terms of your agreement?"

"Yes."

"From everything you said it sounds like he was jealous as hell at the thought of you being with another man and your marital relations were enjoyable. So why would he wish to return to a paper marriage? There is something that we're missing."

"I believe that he is still in love with Elizabeth. They may be having an affair," she sorrowfully confessed.

"Then I stand by what I said earlier; the man is an imbecile."

His words brought back an earlier comment of his, "Wait a moment. You said hearts engaged elsewhere. Hearts in the plural. Where is your heart engaged?"

"I'd rather not talk about that," he said evasively.

"Oh no, Bertie, I've told you my pathetic little story now you tell me yours," she demanded.

"Very well, since you insist, the long and short of the story is that I care deeply for Miss Fitzwilliams but she'll have nothing to do with me."

"Why not?"

"My reputation precedes me and she believes me to be and I quote, 'a cad, scoundrel and no account layabout' as she so sweetly told me when I attempted to court her."

"Well we make a fine pair of lovesick fools don't we, Bertie?"

"Yes we do, Mrs. Norrington. Yes, we do."