Cass was hosting a ball this time, one that Alex seriously suspected was being held in honor of her flirtation with Lord Berkeley for Owen’s sake. But Alex didn’t feel like faux-flirting with Berkeley tonight, and she certainly didn’t feel like making Owen jealous.
“You look positively glum, dear. Are you all right?” Cass asked after wrenching the last plate of tea cakes away from Jane Upton and placing them back on the refreshment table.
Jane harrumphed and said, “I’ll just be in the library.”
“Of course you will, dear,” Cass replied, waving at Jane as she left.
“You should smile, Alex,” Lucy said. “Owen has to believe you’re having a wonderful time.”
“I’m having a miserable time.” Alex took a halfhearted sip of champagne from the flute that dangled from her fingers.
“Oh no. Why is that?” Cass asked. “Come and tell us.”
The three women made their way over to the corner to continue their discussion in private. As soon as they were situated, Alex took a deep breath. “Owen kissed me and told me he intends to marry Lavinia.”
“What!” Cass’s face drained of color. “Of all the detestable, wretched, unconscionable—”
“Wait.” Lucy held up a hand. “We need more details, Cass.” She turned to face Alex. “Did he kiss you and then immediately tell you he intends to marry Lavinia? And how was the kiss? Passionate or sisterly?”
“Passionate, definitely passionate,” Alex replied, taking another sip of champagne. “And the truth is that first he told me he intends to marry Lavinia. Well, he told me that earlier in the day, actually, after he followed me to the rookeries, but—”
Cass’s cheeks were bright pink. “Oh goodness, dear. It seems you’ve left out a great deal. What in heaven’s name were you doing in the rookeries?”
“That’s quite a long story. But I went there and Owen followed me and—”
“And he kissed you?” Lucy interjected. “In the rookeries? That doesn’t seem terribly romantic to me.”
“No. Not in the rookeries. In the rookeries he told me he intends to marry Lavinia because I asked what his intentions were. Then I left.”
Cass’s brow was furrowed. “So when did he kiss you?”
“Last night, in the gardens, at my father’s house. I didn’t come down to dinner. Instead, I went out for a bit of fresh air. Owen was there.”
Cass pressed her hand against her reddening throat. “Let me see if I have the right of it. First my brother followed you to the rookeries and then he made his way into your father’s gardens and kissed you? I had no idea Owen was such a sneak.”
“He didn’t sneak into the gardens. He was invited. To dinner, at least. But he must have gone out for air the same time I did, and I saw him there, quite by accident, and—”
“Then he kissed you!” Lucy pointed a triumphant finger in the air.
“Yes.” Alex nodded.
“Then it’s perfectly fine,” Lucy replied, fluttering her hand in the air.
Alex puffed air into her cheeks. “Perfectly fine? How is that perfectly fine?”
“Yes, how is that perfectly fine?” Cass echoed.
“Don’t you see? He kissed her after he declared his intentions for Lavinia,” Lucy explained with a sage nod.
“That appears to make him a complete rogue,” Cass replied, her brow still furrowed.
“Not at all,” Lucy continued. “He’d be a complete rogue if he kissed her and then declared his intentions for Lavinia.”
Alex pressed her gloved hand against her cheek. “I’m afraid I have absolutely no idea what you mean.”
Lucy sighed. “I mean that he made his declaration, which is all fine and well, but then he was unable to keep his hands off you, despite his best intentions. It’s good. It’s quite, quite good.”
Cass tapped a finger against her cheek. “Ah, I see what you mean. You may have a point.”
Alex turned to Cass. “She does? She has a point?”
“Yes,” Cass replied. “He wants to keep his promise to Father, but he’s clearly head over heels for you.”
Alex downed the last of her champagne. Perhaps if she drank enough, these two would begin making sense. “It certainly doesn’t feel that way to me. He hasn’t sought me out once tonight, and the last time I looked, he was deeply engaged in conversation with Mrs. Clare.”
“Mrs. Clare?” Cass scowled. “The widow?”
“Yes?” Alex replied. “Why?”
Cass rolled her eyes. “She’s been chasing after him for years. Makes no attempts to hide it. She’s a determined little baggage. I wouldn’t have invited her, only my mother-in-law seems to enjoy her company. If I’d had any idea she’d throw herself at Owen tonight, I would have conveniently lost her invitation.”
Lucy had been busily searching the crowd. “Seems she does have every intention of throwing herself at Owen tonight.” Lucy pointed to the far corner of the room. Alex rose up on tiptoes and strained her neck to see Owen and Mrs. Clare laughing and talking. Mrs. Clare had her hand on Owen’s sleeve and was standing far too close with far too much décolletage exposed.
Cass gasped. “Oh, Alex, dear. I’m so sorry. I’ll go run her off.”
“No!” Alex said before straightening her shoulders and speaking in a more modulated tone of voice. “No. Don’t. Please. If Owen wants to spend his time with Mrs. Clare, I’m not about to stop him.”
“I don’t think he knows what he wants.” Cass was shaking her head sadly. “Or at least he’s not ready to admit it to himself. The idiot.”
“I’ll go get Berkeley,” Lucy said to Alex. “You should dance.”
“No, really,” Alex said quietly. “I’m tired. Exceedingly so. I think I’ll go off into the library with Jane and sit and rest for a bit.”
Cass and Lucy both had sorrowful looks on their faces. Cass patted Alex’s shoulder. “Are you certain?”
“Quite certain. In fact, it’s the only thing I’m certain of at the moment.” She turned away from her new friends and headed toward the library.
* * *
The good thing about devoted readers like Jane Upton was, they knew how to be quiet. Alex spent the better part of the next hour silently sitting in the library with Jane, who was happily engaged reading a book. And that was just the way Alex preferred it. Chaperoned quiet was the perfect balm at the moment for her bruised soul. Finally, the clock on the mantelpiece chimed midnight and Alex sighed, stood up, and yawned.
“I should go back to the party now, Jane,” she said. “No doubt Mother will be looking for me. She rarely likes to stay at any gathering past midnight unless Lavinia is particularly enjoying herself, and Lavinia is never particularly enjoying herself.”
“I understand entirely,” Jane said, glancing up from her book. “If you see my husband—Oh, never mind. I was going to say if you see Garrett, tell him he can fetch me in the library, but it just occurred to me that he already knows.” Jane smiled, adjusted her spectacles, and returned her attention to her book.
Alex made her way out of the library and down the corridor. As she passed the foyer, she heard a woman’s tinkling laughter and Owen’s voice. “You don’t know how bad I can be.”
Alex froze. Her hands began shaking. She didn’t want to take another step, but she forced herself to continue walking. The sooner she passed the foyer, the better, and there was no other way to return to the ballroom, not that she knew of, at least. She briefly considered rushing back to hide in the library with Jane, but she discarded that cowardly notion just as quickly. No. She would walk past him with her head held high.
And that’s just what she did.
Alex tried not to look. Truly she did. At first the couple standing far too close to one another in the foyer were little more than a shadow and a blur, but when Alex came into sight, the woman gasped, Alex looked, and Owen’s head snapped up to face her. He took a guilty step away from Mrs. Clare.
“Alex,” he said in a calm, clear voice.
Alex nodded to him, trying to force her feet to keep moving, but she was rooted to the spot. “My lord,” she uttered. “What are you doing?” Her heart thumped so hard in her chest that it hurt.
He turned and the gorgeous blond widow turned, too, and narrowed her silvery eyes on Alex.
“You shouldn’t be here, Alex. You shouldn’t be seeing this.” His words rang out like shots that cracked against the marble pillars of the foyer.
“Seeing this,” she echoed, lifting her chin and subtly straightening her shoulders. She was fighting to not let him affect her. “You didn’t answer. What is ‘this’?”
The widow pulled her shrug more tightly around her shoulders. “What adults do, sweet. Now, run along and play with the other children.”
Alex’s head snapped to the side as if she’d been slapped. But she forced herself to raise her chin again, and she met Owen’s gaze with unshed tears in her eyes. “Is that what I am to you, Owen? A child.”
The widow laughed a deep sultry laugh and opened her mouth to say some other—no doubt equally biting—thing, but Owen raised his hand in a signal that stopped her. His voice was low and harsh. “Go back to your party, Alex.”