There would be no more meetings, no more stolen moments in Cass’s ballroom. Alex read the letter from Owen with a mixture of frustrated tears in her eyes and burgeoning anger in her heart.
You’ve done all you can for me, he wrote. Thank you for your assistance. I will endeavor to do my best alone.
He had been jealous seeing her with Berkeley; Alex knew he had been. She couldn’t prove it, but she knew it deep down. Just as Cass and Lucy had assured her he would be. Then why wasn’t it working? Why wasn’t he coming to heel? Why wasn’t he admitting that Alex was the one he had feelings for? Were his father’s edict and Lavinia’s dowry so important to him after all? Had Alex been wrong about him?
She posed these same questions to Cass and Lucy several hours later when she paid a call to the countess. The duchess happened to also be visiting her friend.
“Oh, dear, no, no. You’re not seeing it clearly,” Lucy said, stirring two lumps of sugar in her teacup.
Cass sat in front of the window, an easel in front of her, painting a vase of roses in soft watercolors. “Lucy’s correct, dear,” she replied. “Owen has a great deal of pride, and seeing you with Berkeley once is not enough for him to admit how very wrong he’s been.”
Alex shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
“He’s been telling you all this time how he wants to marry your sister. Just think how it will look for him to suddenly declare his love for you. Besides, he’s in something of a snare, having to defy Father and all that.”
“So I shouldn’t expect him to declare himself?” Alex asked.
Lucy took a sip of tea, made a funny face, and set it back down to administer even more sugar. “Of course he’ll declare himself, but he obviously needs more inducement first.”
Alex let her head fall into her hands. “More inducement? What do you suggest? That I begin flirting with every gentleman in the ton?”
Cass looked up from her painting and tapped the end of the brush against her cheek. “Now, that idea is not half bad.”
“I agree,” Lucy said, sipping her tea happily now. “I think only good can come from him having more competition.”
“But this isn’t how I wanted it to go at all.” Alex groaned.
“Of course not, dear. It never goes the way we want it to go,” Lucy continued. “But it always goes the way it was meant to.”
Alex raised her head and blinked at the duchess. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means just what I said, dear,” Lucy replied. “These things are complicated. They take time. Owen is a rakehell. Getting him to admit he’s fallen for an innocent is not about to happen quickly. Keep doing exactly what you’re doing. Lord Berkeley has agreed to continue to help you. He’s a prize. In fact, if you weren’t so set on Owen, I’d say you should turn your attentions to him.”
Cass frowned at Lucy. “I’ll thank you to leave my future sister-in-law alone.”
Alex had to smile at their banter. “Lord Berkeley is quite nice, but…”
Lucy sighed. “I know. I know. You’re madly in love with your rakehell.”
Alex’s cheeks heated. “I can’t help it.”
“Of course you can’t, dear,” Cass called. “Owen is quite a catch, too, and I’ve always known the right lady would make him into a doting husband.”
Alex sighed. “Doting? Owen? I cannot imagine it.”
“Once he commits to you, he’ll dote on you. Take my word for it.” Cass flourished her brush on the canvas once again.
Alex pressed her hands to her cheeks. “Very well. So you both think that I should continue to do what I’m doing—flirt with Lord Berkeley and the other gentlemen who’ve shown me attention, and completely ignore Owen?”
“Don’t completely ignore him, dear,” Lucy replied. “Throw him a glance or two and a friendly wave from time to time. It’s far too obvious if you completely ignore him.”
Alex groaned again. “This is driving me mad.”
A wide grin spread across Lucy’s gamine face. “It’s driving him mad also, dear. That’s the entire point.”