Lavinia’s face turned bright red. “Father’s wrong! Owen Monroe would never make a proper husband!”
Oh no. Lavinia was shouting. It was certain to get worse. It always got worse. Mother glanced around frantically, as if searching about the dining table for something else to say.
“Well, he is handsome,” Alex provided.
“Yes!” Mother nodded so hard, her turban nearly flew off her head. “Don’t you think he’s handsome, Lavinia?”
Lavinia scowled. “Who cares what he looks like? His behavior is atrocious. Do you know he actually told me last night that he doesn’t care for horses? Can you imagine?”
“I haven’t heard of anything awful he’s done lately,” Alex added. “The horse comment notwithstanding.”
Lavinia narrowed her eyes and glared at Alex. Among many other things, her sister had never properly appreciated sarcasm.
“That’s quite a good point,” Mother hastened to add, still nodding.
Lavinia’s ears were practically purple. “You two have both lost your wits.”
Mother pointed a finger in the air and eyed her eldest daughter carefully. “He does seem to be enamored of you, dear. Alexandra said so. Doesn’t that count for something?”
Lavinia slapped her palm against the table, making the glasses bounce. “No. No. It does not! I doubt that man knows so much as a line of poetry.”
Well, she couldn’t argue with Lavinia there. Alex calmly smoothed the tablecloth as she met her sister’s angry glare. Sometimes Providence handed you an unexpected gift. The proper reaction, of course, was to take it and use it promptly in thanksgiving. “So you’re saying that no matter what he says or does, nor how much he might hope to woo you, you’ve absolutely no interest whatsoever in Lord Owen Monroe?”
Lavinia turned her head away and sniffed. “Certainly not. None!”
Next Alex turned toward her mother. “And you’re saying that despite the fact that you haven’t always been one of his most vocal supporters, you now actually believe him to be a suitable husband for your daughter?”
Mother swallowed and tugged at the throat of her gown. She turned her gaze to Lavinia. “Yes. If your father accepts him, so do I.”
Lavinia opened her mouth, no doubt to protest further, but Alex stood up and plunked her juice glass down on the table. “Then I don’t see how either one of you could possibly object if I try my luck with him. Good day.”
And with that, Alex flounced out of the breakfast room with an enormous smile on her face.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Alex ripped open the note written on expensive vellum, and her eyes scanned the message. She was sitting at the writing desk in her bedchamber. Hannah had brought her the missive that had been sent over via a footman.
Please call upon me at two o’clock this afternoon.
Yours, Lady Swifdon
Alex’s belly remained full of knots all day, and she discarded at least three different gowns in favor of the demure lavender one she’d finally chosen. It had to be another message from Owen. He wouldn’t risk sending her a missive directly. He must have asked his sister to write it for him. He wanted to see her again. Was it just that he had more questions about Lavinia?
Guilt tugged at her conscience when she remembered the way he’d thanked her so kindly at the Rutherfords’. “You’ve done nothing but try to help me,” he’d said, referring to his trouble with Lavinia. If only he knew how very little Alex had helped.
She’d wondered, too, at the seeming ease with which he’d launched her into Society. “Your dancing card appears to be much fuller,” he’d said. Yet he didn’t appear to be jealous. At least not as jealous as Alex had hoped. Though he had asked if she’d been asked to dance by the man whom she was smitten by. The entire thing was becoming too complicated by half. She should write back and tell Lady Swifdon she had a megrim, was busy, couldn’t get away. Yes. That would be best.
* * *
At precisely two o’clock, Alex’s father’s carriage, driven by the ever-bribed coachman, arrived at the front of Lord and Lady Swifdon’s town house. Alex and Hannah alighted. Alex swallowed and straightened her shoulders before making her way up the front steps. She hadn’t been able to resist after all. Her curiosity got the best of her and she’d loaded up herself and her maid and set off for Lady Swifdon’s house.
The butler answered the door and showed her into the foyer. Alex glanced around anxiously. Owen was nowhere to be seen. The butler took her bonnet and then escorted her into a drawing room. The drawing room? She’d never been shown into the drawing room before. Her anxiety grew by the moment. Perhaps Owen would tell her they couldn’t meet any longer. Perhaps he’d tell her he intended to stop courting Lavinia. Frankly, that notion frightened Alex more than it should, given the circumstances. Whatever he intended to tell her, she was slowly dying of curiosity, waiting.