As soon as their turn about the room came to an end and Lord Owen had thanked her charmingly, Alexandra hurried back over to hide behind the potted palm near Lavinia. He hadn’t known it, but Lord Owen Monroe had saved her from an exceedingly unpleasant conversation with her sister earlier. One in which Lavinia had been denigrating the looks and clothing choices of every lady at the ball, in addition to her usual rant against bluestockings and any females who chose to better their minds. She’d just launched into a similar rant against gentlemen with strong political views when Lord Owen arrived and clearly mistook Alexandra for Lavinia.
For a moment, an awful, wonderful moment, Alexandra actually believed that he’d meant to ask her to walk with him, that he knew who she was and had actually chosen her. But it became clear soon enough that that wasn’t the case, and while her heart plummeted into her slippers, she was still fond enough of a good jest that she looked forward to the outcome of the little debacle.
The look on Lord Owen’s face when he discovered he’d asked the wrong sister to walk with him had been ever so amusing. Even more amusing? Lavinia’s anticipated reaction to Owen reappearing to correct his error. If Alexandra didn’t miss her guess, that was precisely what he meant to do.
She watched as he grabbed two glasses of champagne from the tray of a passing footman and downed them both in quick succession. Alexandra smiled to herself. Drinking to excess? Check.
With a determined look in his eye that Alexandra could see even from her vantage point, Owen scanned the ballroom, spotted Lavinia, and stalked toward her. Alexandra’s smile widened. Overbearing? Certainly. If Alexandra didn’t miss her second guess, Owen was about to be exceedingly overbearing.
She held her breath and pushed her back against the wall as he approached, hoping he would not see her behind the tree. Lavinia was standing with Lady Sarah Highgate. The two were politely talking. Though from what Alexandra could overhear, Lady Sarah wasn’t any fonder of her sister’s negative words than she had been. Their conversation ended abruptly when Owen marched up. The click of his shoes against the parquet floor stopped, indicating his arrival. Alexandra forced herself to lean forward just a bit and peered through the fronds.
“My lady,” he said to Lavinia, bowing.
Lavinia regarded the future earl down the length of her nose, her lips pressed tightly together. “My lord?” she intoned haughtily. “Back so soon? I haven’t seen Alexandra, if you’re looking for her.”
“I am not,” he said in a voice Alexandra could tell was designed to flatter.
Lavinia sighed, then flourished a hand toward Lady Sarah. “May I introduce Lady Sarah Highgate?”
“My pleasure, my lady.” Owen’s voice remained polite as he exchanged niceties with Lady Sarah, bowing over her hand.
“Lady Sarah is unattached,” Lavinia continued, pointing her nose in the air. “Perhaps she would like to take a turn about the room with you.” She gave him a tight smile. “Though you might have a bit of competition. The Marquess of Branford is rumored to be making an appearance here tonight, and he is extremely enamored of Lady Sarah already.”
Alexandra cringed. Oh, Lavinia had really got her back up this time.
Poor Lady Sarah, who was absolutely gorgeous with black hair and light green eyes, blushed to her roots. Alexandra wanted to reach out and squeeze Sarah’s arm in sympathy. Let it never be said that Lavinia didn’t have a penchant for embarrassing others.
“Oh, no. No, he’s not. I’m—,” Lady Sarah stammered.
“Pish-posh,” Lavinia replied, plucking at the overly ornate blue reticule that dangled from her wrist. The one she’d insisted have bangles, lace, and embellished embroidery. “Everyone knows you’re the belle of the Season, Sarah. Admit it.” There was an undeniable undercurrent of jealousy in Lavinia’s voice.
Lady Sarah shook her head vigorously, so vigorously that one of her dark curls popped out of her coiffure and bounced along her forehead. “Oh, no, not at all. I—I must go, actually. I’m afraid my next dance is spoken for.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Lord Owen replied, smiling benevolently at the harried Lady Sarah. “But indeed, I did come to ask you to dance, Lady Lavinia.” Uh-oh. Lavinia hated dancing, but how could poor Lord Owen know that? He gave Lavinia a charming smile that made Alexandra mentally sigh.
“Me?” Lavinia pointed to herself, a look of pure surprise on her pinched face.
“Yes,” Lord Owen replied.
“Excuse me, won’t you?” Lady Sarah hastened to add. “I look forward to speaking to you again sometime, Lady Lavinia. Good evening, Lord Owen, it’s been a pleasure.”
Good for Lady Sarah for escaping. Alexandra could only feel empathy for the poor young lady.
“Well?” Lord Owen asked Lavinia as soon as Lady Sarah hastened off.
Lavinia crinkled up her nose in that way of hers that made it seem as if she’d just smelled something exceedingly disagreeable. “Are you certain you wish to dance with me, Lord Owen?”
He bowed. “Of course. Why would you question my sincerity?”
Lavinia’s voice took on a rigid, condescending tone, one that Alexandra was only too familiar with. “I don’t know. Perhaps it’s because earlier I got the distinct impression that you had forgotten my name.” Her smile tightened further. Alexandra wrung her hands. Lavinia looked a bit like an angry skeleton when she smiled.
Lord Owen’s voice rose a bit. “Of course not, my lady. How could I forget one as radiant as you?”
“Radiant? Did you actually say ‘radiant’?” Lavinia’s laugh was a derisive snort.
Alexandra winced again. Lavinia could be ruthless when she was annoyed by someone. Which was quite a long list of people, actually.
Lord Owen’s voice took on an edge of impatience. “Will you make me repeat my request, my lady?”
“What was your request again?” Lavinia said, studying her slippers.
“Will you do me the honor of dancing with me?” His voice was definitely tight now, but still he smiled his most charming smile—the one that made Alexandra’s knees decidedly weak. Oh, how could her sister say no to that? And him with that distracting dimple in his cheek? Alexandra wanted to burst through the palm and say yes herself. Instead, she bit the inside of her lip and leaned closer in order to hear more efficiently.
“I find it interesting, Lord Owen, that you seem so keen upon dancing this evening,” Lavinia continued, crossing her arms over her chest.
Alexandra nearly groaned. This was it. Lavinia was going to deliver a crushing setdown. She was famous for delivering crushing setdowns, usually directly after she crossed her arms over her chest.
“Why’s that?” came Owen’s innocent reply.
“I’ve never known you to be much of one for dancing with young ladies at balls.”
There was that knee-weakening smile again. “If I have not been keen upon dancing, my lady, perhaps it is because until now I had no hope that you would consent to be my partner.” He bowed. Alexandra nearly swooned.
Lavinia laughed. Out loud. Long and overly loud. When she finished laughing, she said, “I don’t know what gave you the hope that I might consent.” She lifted her chin. “You’re known for your charm, Lord Owen, or so I’ve heard, but I must ask you, do silly statements such as your last one ever truly work on the other members of my sex?”
Lord Owen’s face paled for just a moment. He looked as if he’d swallowed a bug. But as quickly as it had dimmed, his grin returned. “I take it you don’t find me charming, Lady Lavinia?” He eyed her warily now.
“Not in the least.” Lavinia stuck out her elbow, and it nearly poked Alexandra through the palm. “Though you might charm my sister. She’s easily impressed.”
Alexandra had to clap her hand over her mouth to keep from squeaking in indignation at that statement.
Lord Owen slid his other hand into his pocket. “My pride is wounded.”
Lavinia snorted. “I doubt it. I’m not entirely certain you’re capable of wounded pride.”
“I assure you, I am.” He straightened his broad shoulders. “Now, must I ask you to dance a third time?”
“Save your breath, my lord,” Lavinia replied, tugging at her long white glove. “The answer is no.”
“No?” he repeated. “I don’t understand.”
“Not familiar with the word, my lord? Why does that not surprise me? It’s the opposite of yes. However, let me tell you what I understand.”
He still looked wary, but he nodded jerkily. “By all means.”
“I understand that your sudden interest in me has more to do with your pocket than with any of my charms, considerable though they may be. I understand that until you took a turn about the room with Alexandra earlier, who no doubt set you straight, you’d in fact forgotten my name. I understand that our misguided parents are much more interested in our match than you and I could ever be, evidenced by my mother’s inviting you here and recently informing me that you were considered quite a good catch when heretofore she’d often referred to you as a drunken lout, and finally, Lord Owen, I understand that I intend to leave you now. Perhaps you can locate a lady who finds you infinitely more charming than I do. No doubt it won’t be an easy task, but I wish you luck.” And with that, Lavinia turned on her heel and flounced away like an angry, flushed bluebird.
Lord Owen stood there, blinking, a completely confused look marring his fine features as if he had no idea what had just happened.
“Blast and damnation,” he muttered to the potted palm. “Difficult? She’s the bloody Spanish Inquisition.”
Alexandra’s smile was back. Cursing? Check.
Alexandra had seen enough. If she’d had any indication that Lavinia might actually welcome Owen’s suit, Alexandra had intended to give him up, or at least to refrain from interfering with their courtship. But not only had the last several moments proved to her that her sister was entirely uninterested in the match, it was also obvious to Alexandra that Lavinia and Owen did not suit. She and Owen, however … Alexandra didn’t mind cursing, boldness, or dancing, and she welcomed drinks. Especially champagne. Now that she thought on it, where was a glass of champagne?
Oh yes, she would feel no guilt whatsoever in pursuing Lord Owen despite her parents’ intentions. Besides, hadn’t she spent years attempting to be more daring and adventurous? The plan that was quickly forming in her head was both daring and adventurous and would give her the opportunity to spend time with Lord Owen Monroe. A great deal of time, perhaps.
Lord Owen turned to walk away, and the words flew from Alexandra’s throat before she had a chance to examine them.
“Wait,” she called. “I can help you.”