The Untamed Earl(55)
Alex sighed. “Doting? Owen? I cannot imagine it.”
“Once he commits to you, he’ll dote on you. Take my word for it.” Cass flourished her brush on the canvas once again.
Alex pressed her hands to her cheeks. “Very well. So you both think that I should continue to do what I’m doing—flirt with Lord Berkeley and the other gentlemen who’ve shown me attention, and completely ignore Owen?”
“Don’t completely ignore him, dear,” Lucy replied. “Throw him a glance or two and a friendly wave from time to time. It’s far too obvious if you completely ignore him.”
Alex groaned again. “This is driving me mad.”
A wide grin spread across Lucy’s gamine face. “It’s driving him mad also, dear. That’s the entire point.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The Miffletons’ ballroom was ablaze with the light of a thousand candles. Alex paced back and forth near the refreshment table. She wore a stunning fire-colored gown that she’d just recently purchased from Madame Bergeron, her mother’s favorite modiste on Bond Street. The gown was so gorgeous that Lavinia had pouted when she saw Alex in the foyer before they made their way outside to the coach. Mother had had to assure Lavinia that she, too, looked ravishing in her own ice-blue gown. Thomas had gone back to school, and so Alex was alone with her parents and sister. Again.
She searched the ballroom, looking for any signs of her friends. Finally, she saw Lord Berkeley standing head and shoulders above most of the other gentlemen. Thank goodness. She’d been a bit worried that he wouldn’t appear tonight, and where would it leave her?
Lord Berkeley spotted her, nodded, and made his way through the crush to her side. “My lady,” he said with a bow.
“My lord,” she replied, curtsying and sharing his smile.
“I have it on the best authority—namely from Lucy—that Owen Monroe has just entered the ballroom. Given that, may I have this dance?”
Alex nodded and placed her arm on his. “What would I do without you, my lord?”
They danced, and Berkeley, the dream that he was, ensured that he steered them to the far side of the room, where Owen was holding court with his sister and Lord Swifdon. Alex’s gaze darted around the ballroom. Lavinia was nowhere to be seen at the moment.
Keeping Lucy’s advice in mind, Alex glanced at Owen, who appeared to be glaring holes in Berkeley’s jacket. A muscle in Owen’s jaw ticked and he took a stiff drink from the brandy glass he clutched in his left hand.
She smiled at him politely but briefly, barely indicating she was aware of his presence before turning her attention back to Lord Berkeley and delivering her most dazzling smile. She laughed at something he hadn’t said and batted her eyelashes at the viscount.
Lord Berkeley glanced over to Owen’s group. “It’s working,” he said. “Keep doing what you’re doing. I’ve little doubt Monroe wants to call me out right now.”
Her hand on his shoulder shook a bit. “Do you truly think it’s working?”
Lord Berkeley’s smile was friendly and warm. “I know it’s working. I think he’s close to crushing that unfortunate brandy glass.”
“Oh, I do hope that doesn’t happen,” Alex said, biting her lip.
“I’ll give him about two more minutes before he cuts in again.”
Butterflies scattered in Alex’s belly. She waited and waited, her anticipation growing with each turn on the floor. But Owen did not come. She danced with Berkeley one more time before finally admitting defeat and asking him to deposit her back at the refreshment table. “I cannot ask you to do more, my lord.”
“He’s a stubborn one, I’ll give him that,” Berkeley said as he escorted Alex across the room. “Perhaps it’s best if you give him time to come and greet you.”
Alex nodded but she didn’t feel much hope. If Owen had wanted to cut in on their dance, he would have. He’d done it before, after all.
She found Jane Upton at the refreshment table, filling a plate with tea cakes.
“Tea cakes are the only things that make balls tenable in any way,” Jane said, balancing her plate on the palm of her hand.
Alex was just about to reply with a laugh when a dark shadow appeared at her side.
“Do you truly think it wise for your reputation to dance with the same man twice in a row? Again?”
Alex jumped and whirled to the side. Owen stood there with his hands on his hips and his jaw tightly clenched. He was clearly angry. And he’d been drinking.
She straightened her shoulders and continued to pluck a tea cake from the serving platter. “You’re the one who taught me these things,” she whispered so they wouldn’t be overheard. “Two dances are enough to keep him wanting more, but never a third. Isn’t that what you said?”