Owen stroked his chin with his thumb and forefinger. “I must say this news about her intrigues me. I wouldn’t have expected Lady Lavinia to be fun-loving. In the least.”
Alex swallowed the lump of guilt she feared would be permanently lodged in her throat. “Oh yes, Lavinia is ever so fun-loving.” She’d nearly choked on that part. She glanced away, hoping the lie wasn’t visible on her face.
“Surprising, to be sure,” Owen said.
“My sister is full of surprises,” she assured him with a firm nod. She tugged at the collar of her butter yellow gown. It was decidedly hot in the ballroom this afternoon.
Owen cocked his head to the side. “I suppose I can find a way to use that information to my advantage. Very well.” He held out his arms. “Shall we dance?”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Alex had thought she knew how to dance. That was until Owen Monroe took her into his arms and spun her around and around his sister’s empty ballroom to a tune he hummed. Not only could the man dance, but he could also hum, keep time, and make her feel as if she were the only person in the room all simultaneously. It didn’t matter that she was the only other person in the room. That was entirely beside the point.
She stepped on his foot only three times. In the first dance. He stopped humming and the dance came to an end. Alex backed away but kept a watchful eye on him, certain she’d see disapproval lurking in his cornflower blue eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured, pushing the tip of one slipper against the parquet floor. “I’m usually quite proficient at dancing. I don’t know why I’m so clumsy today.” Yes, I do. I’m clumsy because you’re gorgeous and I’m distracted by the thought of sticking my nose in your cravat and sniffing you.
Owen chuckled. “You’re still nervous, if I don’t miss my guess.”
“I suppose I am. A bit.” She dropped her gaze to her slippers. Nervous because you’re so dastardly handsome, which is hardly my fault.
He contemplated her for a moment. “You say your sister is fond of alcohol. How do you feel about the stuff? Besides port, I mean. Say, champagne?”
“I adore it!” She clapped her hand over her mouth. That had been far too emphatic and completely unladylike. Another reason her mother informed her regularly that she would be hard-pressed to find a decent suitor. “A true lady drinks only one glass, Alexandra,” her mother liked to say. Wouldn’t her mother have a fit if she knew Alex liked to sneak into the study and tipple the port?
Instead of giving her a reproachful look or arching a brow, Owen threw back his head and laughed. “I’m glad to hear it. You’re a lady after my own heart. Wait here.” He jogged across the floor and was gone out the door in an instant.
Alex waited with bated breath. She repeated “A lady after my own heart” in a rushed whisper—while trying to keep from squealing—so many times that the words began to lose their meaning and became a happy jumbled ball in her mouth.
When Owen returned minutes later, he was holding two champagne flutes. He crossed back over the wide parquet floor and handed one to Alex with both a flourish and a gallant bow. “My lady,” he said. “It’s not port, but I’ve always found that a bit of alcohol loosens the inhibitions, makes for less nervousness in dancing … and other things.”
Alex felt her cheeks heat again. That sounded positively wicked. She liked it. A lot. If she were going to continue spending any amount of time in Owen’s company, she really must learn to stop blushing. Why, her face might remain a permanent shade of pink, and then she’d look like Lavinia’s bedchamber. An unhappy comparison to be sure. Alex readily brought the glass Owen had handed her to her lips and downed half of it while Owen watched with eyes both wide and approving.
“That’s the spirit,” he said with a laugh. He took a healthy sip from his own flute before plucking the glass from Alex’s fingers and setting both on the nearby table. “Now, how do you feel?”
“Fine. No different, I—”
But she did feel different. The bubbly warmth of the champagne was already making its delicious fuzzy way to her belly … and her head. “Oh, I … I feel quite good.”
“Excellent,” he replied with his most appealing grin, his dimple making a welcome appearance in his cheek. “Care to try again?” He held out his hands and she stepped into the circle of his arms.
“Yes, please,” she said with a vigorous nod.
He spun her around and around, humming again, and Alex’s head felt positively light. Light and delightful. She slowly blinked. Oh, this was quite fun. Dancing around a deserted ballroom with the man of her dreams, an extremely pleasant way to spend the afternoon. Much better than paying calls to Mama’s friends, practicing embroidery for the thousandth time, or hoping that Lavinia’s temper stayed in check so that she might take a nap without shrill screeches waking her.