“I don’t see her. You do remember what she looks like, don’t you, Owen?” Cass asked with hint of humor in her voice.
Owen tapped a finger against his temple. “She’s blond, isn’t she?” He couldn’t remember. And he’d been testing his memory all week over it. His regular set of friends had proved no help, of course. They didn’t remember the look of one particular little Society miss any more than he did. Instead, at the hells, they’d done nothing but unmercifully tease him about being caught by the parson’s noose and offered him another drink and another hand of cards. Both of which he’d readily accepted. As usual.
“No. She’s not blond at all. Her hair is dark brown,” Cass said. “And you’ve been introduced before, so it would be odd for me to attempt to introduce you again. Do try to search your memory.”
Swifdon snorted. “Excellent start, Monroe.”
Owen rolled his eyes. “Fine. Just point her out when you see her, won’t you? I need to get this over with.” He was still searching for a footman. A duke, of all people, should bloody well have more footmen at hand.
Cass shook her head. “What a romantic.”
“If you don’t like my methods, why have you come?” Owen scowled at his sister.
Cass shrugged. “You’re in a fine mood tonight. But if you must know, Mother asked me to. She insisted that we have a good showing. I fear she’s worried for the Monroe reputation.”
Swifdon laughed aloud at that.
Owen glanced around for a footman again. A drink was long overdue. “Of course they wanted to emphasize that I’m not the only family member. What a disgrace that would be.”
Cass frowned. “I only meant—”
Poor Cass. His sweet sister. She always believed the best of him despite every bit of evidence to the contrary. “No. I understand,” Owen replied. “No need to explain. Besides, I’m hardly worried. If the duke and duchess didn’t approve of me, they wouldn’t be discussing the marriage contract with our estimable father already, now, would they?”
Cass inclined her head toward Owen. “True, but I don’t believe it’s the duke and duchess whom you need to impress. It’s Lady Lavinia herself.”
Owen gave his sister his most infamous grin. “I’ve never had a bit of trouble charming ladies.”
Cass’s blond brow arched. “I fear you may have met your match with Lavinia. She has a reputation for being a bit … difficult.”
Owen eyed his brother-in-law. Swifdon coughed into his hand, but Owen strongly suspected it was done in an effort to cover his laughter.
“Yes, I’ve heard as much,” Owen replied to Cass. “Difficult, eh?”
“Just a bit … prickly,” Cass replied.
“No matter.” Owen’s grin widened. “I’ve found few ladies who can resist my charms. When I choose to be charming, that is.”
“So modest, dear brother,” Cass said, rolling her eyes. “Though I must admit, I’m looking forward to your interactions with Lady Lavinia. I cannot wait to see if she can, ahem, resist your charms. I think it’s high time you settled down, you know.”
“Ah, the refrain of the married. They always think everyone else should marry as well,” Owen replied.
“It isn’t half bad, Monroe. You really should try it. Though it makes all the difference when it’s done with the correct partner.” Swifdon pulled his wife’s gloved hand to his lips and kissed it, his eyes shining with what Owen could only assume was love.
Owen pressed a hand to his flat abdomen. “Blast. I had too much to drink last night, Swifdon. Don’t induce my nausea.”
A footman walked past just then, carrying a silver tray filled with champagne glasses. “Ah, there you are, my good man,” Owen called out.
Swifdon snorted. “I thought you said you had too much to drink last night.”
Owen grabbed one glass for himself and one for Cass. Swifdon followed suit. “I did have too much to drink last night, which is why I’m sorely in need of another drink at present,” Owen said with a grin, downing the contents of his glass quickly.
Cass frowned at her brother and slapped him on the shoulder with her fan. “Don’t be so—” She stopped short, staring at something beyond Owen’s shoulder. Owen turned to look.
“There she is,” Cass breathed.
“Who?” Owen saw only a room full of ladies and gentlemen in a dazzling array of colorful evening attire. No one in particular stood out.
“Lady Lavinia, of course,” Cass replied, rolling her eyes again.