The Untamed Earl(39)

He bowed to her. “My lady.”

She offered him her hand. “My lord.”

“May I have this dance?”

“Of course you may.”

And then they were off. Flying about the floor as if they had invented the steps to the waltz. After their lessons together, Alex was altogether relaxed in his arms. Though she did still wish for that glass of champagne. And when she ventured a glance at the guests, she noted with no small amount of pride that they were all watching her again. She was with the notorious Lord Owen Monroe for the second time in as many balls. This time she was laughing at his jests, playfully slapping at his arm with her fan, and looking deeply into his eyes. If the assembly had been feeling a bit sorry for her having to begin the ball on the arm of her younger brother, they were no longer feeling sorry.

“Why is everyone watching us?”

Owen chuckled. “This is what you wanted, is it not?”

“Yes, but I feel as if they were staring even before we danced.”

Owen tilted his head to the side. “I may have started a rumor that I was taken with you.”

Alex gasped a little. “You didn’t!”

“Yes, I did. Though I do hope it doesn’t make its way round to Lavinia, or all our teaching sessions will have been for naught. However, I thought your reputation could use a boost.”

“I doubt Lavinia would believe it even if she does hear it.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “And thank you for the … boost. And for writing to Thomas.”

“You’re welcome, my lady,” Owen said with his infamous grin.

By the time the waltz ended, Alex had a bevy of admirers lined up to ask for the next dance. Owen released her hand. “Thank you for the dance, Lady Alexandra,” he said, and Alex was swept into a throng of young gentlemen, all of whom were either asking their female relatives for introductions or were asking Alex for a dance. And just like that, Owen had launched her fabulously into Society. Exactly as Alex had wished. So why did she feel a little like crying as she watched him turn away and head toward Lavinia?

Alex blinked away the tears quickly. Lord Matthew Beckett was standing at her elbow, waiting for her attention. Lord Beckett was one of the most sought-after bachelors of the Season. It wouldn’t do for him to see her crying like a ninny. She pasted a bright smile on her face and turned to him. They’d already been introduced. In fact, as she glanced at the group of gentlemen vying for her attention, she realized she’d been introduced to most of them. They simply hadn’t been interested in her … until tonight. Until Owen.

Alex didn’t remember a word Lord Beckett said during their dance. Nor did she recall her conversations with Lord Sheffield, Sir Montague, or Mr. Hanson after that. All she could concentrate upon was keeping her gaze focused on Owen. First he’d spoken to Lavinia. Apparently, that hadn’t gone well, because minutes later, she’d stomped off, refusing a glass of champagne he’d offered her. But now, he was back at Lavinia’s side, speaking to her again. Alex desperately tried to get her latest dancing partner, Lord Gillicuttie, to move closer to where Owen and Lavinia were speaking, in the hopes that she might have the chance to overhear a bit of it. Unfortunately, not only was Lord Gillicuttie an awful dancer, but the man was a complete bore as well, and he positively refused to be led by a lady. Finally the song came to an end, and Alex hastily excused herself, dashing across the floor in the opposite direction of the steadily growing group of gentlemen who wanted to dance with her.

She glanced back at her group of admirers. Men were such silly creatures. They took no notice of a thing until one of them showed interest, and then suddenly they all had to have it. In this case, the “it” just so happened to be her.

Owen had apparently received another crushing setdown from Lavinia. He was far across the room, a scowl deeply etched on his face, his neck reddening. Mother had rushed over to see to Lavinia while Owen headed back toward the refreshment table with Lavinia’s untouched glass of champagne clutched in one fist. Alex scurried past the crowd to hide behind a potted palm that was on his route.

“Owen,” she called when he passed by.

He stopped and glanced around. “Alexandra? Is that you?” he whispered.

“Yes. Over here.”

He turned around fully and must have guessed her hiding spot because the next thing she knew, he slid behind the palm with her.

His scowl transformed into a wide grin as soon as he saw her standing there. “I never noticed how deuced convenient palms are till I met you.”

Alex could help but smile back. “They are convenient, aren’t they?”