Her brother, Owen Monroe, however, might be thought to be a scoundrel, a rake, and a drunken lout, but he was exceedingly popular, the perfect person to assist Alexandra in leveraging her standing in Society. However, the truth was that he wasn’t a scoundrel at all. He was a gentleman. A true gentleman. One who looked out for weaker people, like a twelve-year-old stable boy being harassed by two bucks.
Alexandra squeezed her arms around her middle. Tomorrow Owen would teach her to dance and she would teach him, what? Something Lavinia liked? Er, well, actually something that Lavinia didn’t like. Something Lavinia detested. Alexandra said a brief prayer to the heavens to forgive her for her deceit. Oh, she’d tell him some truth. Some of it would actually help her case. The romantic gentleman part, for instance. The rest she would just have to extemporize. She would ask for his forgiveness later. In the meantime, let the teaching begin.
CHAPTER TEN
The knock on Swifdon’s door sounded at precisely two o’clock the next afternoon. Owen had only just arrived himself minutes before. He was not an early riser. Never had been. He’d barely had time to bathe, dress, and find a meal before dashing over to his sister’s house to meet Lady Alexandra for their first lesson. Somehow he’d known she would be prompt, exactly the way he was usually late. But today, for her, he’d made an effort.
Owen paced about Swifdon’s foyer while the butler answered the door and ushered Lady Alexandra into the house. The smell of strawberries swirled into the foyer. She stood there, prim and proper in a bright yellow gown and matching bonnet, looking a bit uncertain but quite pretty with the afternoon sunlight touching one fair cheek. Her diminutive red-haired maid stood behind her, peeking around her mistress, a wary look on her face.
“Welcome,” Owen said, grinning.
Lady Alexandra’s throat worked and her dark eyes assessed him from head to toe.
Had the lady liked what she’d seen? Owen glanced down at his shining black top boots, biscuit-colored buckskin breeches, white shirt, emerald waistcoat, and dark gray overcoat. His snowy white cravat was expertly tied. He’d done it himself, waving off his valet and taking special care today. He’d always been known around town to have flawless style, and he’d certainly never had any reason to question it. But today, looking through Lady Alexandra’s eyes, he found himself wondering if she would approve. Did she find him handsome or charming or dashing at all or was he just a means to an end for her to marry off her sister so she might marry, too?
He shook his head. Why did it matter? Why was he even questioning it? When had he ever given a toss what anyone else thought of him? Especially an innocent?
She took a few tentative steps farther into the foyer. Her maid dutifully followed.
Swifdon’s butler cleared his throat then and offered to take the ladies’ hats.
“I’m here to pay a call on Lady Swifdon,” Lady Alexandra said in a quiet voice, presenting her card and removing her bonnet.
“Yes. I’ll show you to her,” Owen intoned. He waited until she and the maid had both handed their bonnets to the butler; then Owen took Lady Alexandra’s hand and placed it atop his sleeve.
“Wait here, Hannah.” Lady Alexandra glanced back at her maid and gave the woman a quick good-bye wave before allowing Owen to escort her down the corridor.
Of course, once beyond the prying eye of the butler, Owen took her to the ballroom instead of the drawing room.
“Wh-where’s Lady Swifdon?” Lady Alexandra asked as soon as the door closed behind them and they were alone in the cavernous room. The enormous space was dimly lit and smelled like lemon polish and candlewax.
“I expect she’s in the drawing room, receiving visitors,” Owen replied with a laugh.
“Oh, I … I thought—”
“Don’t worry. I told her you were coming. She’ll say you were here with her if there is any gossip.”
Lady Alexandra’s shoulders relaxed and she expelled her breath.
“Are you nervous?” he asked. “There’s no need to be.”
“No.” She snatched her hand away from his arm and moved several paces away from him. “I mean yes. I’m only sneaking away from my home to clandestinely meet with one of the ton’s most infamous rogues. There’s no reason to be nervous.”
She was funny. He liked that. “Surely, I’m the most infamous, not merely one of the most.”
He could tell Lady Alexandra was suppressing a smile. He suddenly wanted to make her smile more, laugh even.
“For all that I admire my brother, Thomas, for being daring and adventurous, I cannot seem to help my nerves,” she admitted.