Because she’d wanted to spend time in his company at any price. That’s why.
“Me, too,” he replied. “I’ll see you there.” He pulled her hand up to his lips, and Alex closed her eyes to savor the feel of it. “Save the first dance for me.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Owen tugged off his cravat while he waited for his valet to respond to his call. It was time to dress for the Rutherfords’ ball, but the thought made him vaguely uneasy. He did not look forward to spending time with Lady Lavinia. Good God. The things Alex had told him over the last few days about her sister. Why, the woman was a complete muddle. He’d been somewhat encouraged to hear that she didn’t mind forcefulness, drinking, and a bit of gambling, but to hear that she expected him to write her poetry, sing love ballads, and was frightened of horses, well, that was more than disappointing. And she wanted a rock? Truly? The lady was clearly a bit mad.
But who would know her better than her sister, and a sister who was obviously motivated to assist him? For the life of him, Owen couldn’t understand why Alex was the one having trouble in Society. She was beautiful, funny, intelligent, and full of pluck. Her sister might be more classically lovely, but that had never been Owen’s sort. He much preferred a lady who surprised him, which Alex had continually done since he’d met her.
Owen sighed and paced across his bedchamber. It didn’t matter, did it? Alex wasn’t the one he was set to marry, and besides, she’d made it clear that she already had her eye on some chap. That was why she was so intent upon improving her status in Society. Not only that, but Owen’s father had implied that the duke intended his daughters to marry in order of their age, and Alex was younger, which also explained why she was intent upon helping him. The sooner Lavinia was matched, the sooner Alex could set about becoming betrothed herself.
Owen couldn’t help but dwell upon the references Alex had made to the man of her dreams. She’d even admitted that she’d like to kiss him. And possibly meet him in the conservatory. He smiled at the memory. That had been refreshing, too. Most young innocents would simper and affect demureness. Not Alex. Owen briefly wished he hadn’t interrupted her answer when he’d asked who the man was yesterday. Whoever he was, he was one lucky bastard. Owen hoped the man knew it. Not to mention the unidentified man bloody well owed Owen a drink or three for taking Alex’s shrewish elder sister off their parents’ hands, clearing the way for his suit of Alex. Owen scowled. Why did that thought make him feel vaguely angry … and a bit jealous? He was never jealous.
No matter. No doubt he’d been contemplating Alex more than he would normally consider a young virtuous lady because their mutual goal had kept them in each other’s company of late. In fact, other than his mother and Cass, he’d never spent so much time with a female outside of bed. It was a unique situation, to be sure. And one that was causing him no end of confusion.
But there were two other things that kept popping up in his mind over and over. He couldn’t seem to banish them. The first was Alex asking him what he hoped to accomplish in life. It was a question his father had asked him on countless occasions. A question that usually made him want to go out and drink until he forgot it. But when Alex asked, for the first time, Owen had actually wondered at the answer himself. He’d had a thought, a time or two, about some of the things he’d like to do one day when he assumed his seat in Parliament. He’d bloody well die before he admitted it to his father, but Owen had been reading the papers and paying attention to politics for years. He just never permitted anyone to know it. Only his valet knew he scoured the papers and all the political pamphlets he could get his hands on. “Don’t confuse me with someone noble,” he’d said. “I’m not.”
“Yes, you are,” Alex had answered. “Whether you know it or not.” Those words haunted him. How was it that Alex, of all people—sweet, innocent, young Alex—could see in him something he couldn’t even see in himself?
The second thing Owen couldn’t forget was that kiss. The one he’d shared with Alex yesterday in Cass’s ballroom. The one that should never have happened. The one Alex should have slapped him for, should have pushed away from. Instead, she hadn’t moved an inch … almost as if she’d … wanted it. It was ludicrous, but the thought preoccupied him. Not to mention he’d tossed and turned in bed all night, completely racked with lust over an innocent he should never have touched. It didn’t help matters that he’d been without the company of a woman since—by God, since he’d met Alex. That was interesting. It seemed the little innocent was twisting him into knots.