Now, the burden of Roberta’s gossip and the knowledge that Alasdair had an understanding with another marred the straightforward reaction she might otherwise have had. How was she to respond? Marianne let Alasdair hand her into the rowboat. The others were already launched into the current of the man-made stream. Marianne was thankful for the privacy their absence afforded them and for Alasdair’s silence. He plied the oars in quiet, giving her time to think. “Have I been too precipitous?” Alasdair asked casu ally, laying the oars in their locks and letting the current gently take the boat. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, the breeze blowing his hair in a boyish fashion that lent him an earnest quality. “You do me a great honor with your attentions,” Marianne began, surprised to see Alasdair start to laugh. “Stop right there. That’s what girls say when they’re about to reject a suitor.” Marianne arched her eyebrows in query. “You’ve been rejected a lot then?”
