The Untamed Earl (17 page)

“And I don't want to pry, dear, but…” The countess bit her lip.

“But?” Alex echoed.

Several seconds of silence passed while all four ladies stared at each other.

“Oh, for heaven's sake,” Lucy blurted out. “What Cass means to ask is, it's Owen you're in love with, isn't it?”

Alex's teacup clattered to the carpet.

 

CHAPTER TWENTY

“Oh, my goodness. I'm so clumsy. Forgive me.” Alex immediately jumped up from her seat and fell to the floor, using the linen napkin from her lap to blot the tea from the countess's rug.

“Don't worry about that, dear,” Cass said, meeting Alex on the carpet to tug the napkin from her hand. “One of the servants will tend to it later. My apologies for Lucy's startling you.” She gave Lucy a condemning glare. Lucy merely shrugged.

Denied her napkin, Alex reluctantly moved back into her seat and bit her lip. “Lucy didn't startle me. It's just that…”

“It's true,” Lucy said, a triumphant grin on her face. “Isn't it?”

Jane shook her head. “Lucy, leave the poor girl alone. Let her speak.”

Lucy crossed her arms over her chest. “Very well, but I already know I'm right.”

Alex pressed a hand against her belly to calm her rioting nerves. She met Cass's kind gaze. “Did … did Owen say that? That I'm in love with him?”

“Of course not, dear. That was entirely my guess. Call it female instinct. I don't think Owen has a clue, though I daresay he's a bit jealous of your beau.” Cass gave Alex a conspiratorial smile.

Alex hung her head. “I don't have a beau.” At least the sick feeling had left her stomach as soon as Cass assured her that Owen had no idea.

“Aha!” Lucy pointed a finger in the air. “I'm right, then, aren't I?”

“Is Lucy right, Alexandra?” Jane asked with a sigh. “And let me assure you that I hope she's not. Not for Owen's sake, mind you, but so that she won't be so smug in the future.”

Lucy rolled her eyes at her friend. Alex glanced at Lucy, who did, indeed, look smug. “First of all, please call me Alex. I've quite grown used to it of late.”

“Owen calls her Alex,” Cass announced to her friends.

The three exchanged knowing nods.

“And secondly, it is true.” Alex leaned over her lap and buried her head in her hands.

“I'm so glad!” Cass exclaimed, clapping her hands.

Alex glanced up. Had she heard the countess correctly? “You're glad?”

“Yes, ever so glad.” Cass's pretty face was wreathed with a bright smile.

“May I ask why?” Alex replied, blinking.

“Because I am convinced my brother has feelings for you. Strong ones.”

Alex's eyes widened. Strong feelings? For
her
? Were they speaking of the same man? “But you must know that my father and your father have already been discussing the marriage contract between Owen and my sister.”

“Yes. I know.” Cass's smile didn't falter.

“Then may I ask how you think this is a
good
thing?” Alex continued.

Lucy laughed. “Oh, you're adorable, Alex. You must not know the stories of how the three of us met our husbands.”

Alex shook her head. “No. I don't.”

Lucy patted her coiffure. “Suffice it to say, they were unconventional and unexpected, all three. Well, mine was unexpected. Cass's was accidental. And I'd say Janie's was downright … unlikely. Wouldn't you agree, Jane?”

Jane pursed her lips as if considering it for a moment. She pushed her spectacles up her nose. “Yes. Yes. I think that's an apt word, ‘unlikely.'”

“What happened?” Alex couldn't help her answering smile. The duchess's joy was contagious.

“The tales are far too long to tell you now, dear,” Lucy replied. “But the fact is that they all happened entirely without our parents' involvement or consent. We are unimpressed with the plans of parents. They are so very often wrong in matters of the heart. Don't you agree?”

Alex sighed. “Try telling that to my father. He can be quite stubborn.”

“I don't think you understand, dear,” Lucy replied. “We're talking about the type of to-dos that include giving prompts while hiding behind a hedge, pretending to be a fictitious person, and hiring a nonexistent chaperone.”

Alex blinked. “Pardon?”

Jane nodded again. “It's all true. A stubborn father doesn't so much as give us pause.”

Alex had the distinct feeling that not much gave them pause. “Lavinia's convinced Owen is a scoundrel, but I think he's much more than that.”

“Oh, he is, dear. He is,” Cass agreed. “Our father has never given him his approval, you see, and it's greatly affected him.”

“He doesn't seem as if he gives a toss about anyone's approval to me,” Alex replied.

“He doesn't.” Cass glanced away with tears in her eyes. “Not anymore.”

“You must tell her the Eton story,” Lucy prompted.

“Don't tell her the Eton story,” Jane said in between bites of tea cake.

“What's the Eton story?” Alex asked, blinking.

“Well, now you must tell her,” Lucy said to Cass.

“I shall, but only because it's clear how much regard she has for Owen,” Cass replied.

Alex leaned forward to hear better.

“Well,” Cass began, smoothing her skirts. “Owen attended Eton, of course, but not many people know that while there, he was close with Julian and Garrett. Among others in their group.”

Alex nodded.

“One day when they were around twelve, they all decided it would be a good prank to take the headmaster's horse out for a ride.”

“Oh no,” Alex whispered.

“Yes,” Cass replied. “They spent the afternoon riding about and causing havoc in the town before the headmaster came looking for them. By that time, they'd brought the horse back to the stables.”

Alex gasped. “Did he find them?”

“He found only one of them,” Cass replied. “Owen.”

“Where were the others?” Alex asked.

“Owen told them to hide. Apparently, he insisted. The others had recently been disciplined for their part in another prank. Owen had been visiting home at the time, probably the only reason he wasn't in on that one, too. He thought it would be better for them if he took the entire blame himself.”

“What happened?” Alex breathed. But she almost didn't want to know.

“In their haste to retreat, one of the other boys knocked over a lantern. The entire stable went up in flames.”

“No,” Alex whispered.

“None of the people or horses were hurt, but the building was an entire loss.”

“Who knocked over the lantern?” Alex asked.

“No one knows for sure. Till this day, they've all maintained their silence. It's the honor code at such schools.”

“In the end, it doesn't matter,” Lucy replied. “Owen took the entire blame. He refused to admit anyone else was with him, even when the headmaster pressed him.”

“What happened to him?” Alex asked, this time truly dreading the answer.

“Owen was expelled. The headmaster was not in a forgiving mood. Father had to travel to the school and plead Owen's case. He agreed to pay for the cost of a new stable.”

“And they still didn't allow him to stay?”

“No. He ended up at Harrow and fell in with an unruly set of boys who were interested only in drinking and causing trouble.”

“And your father?” Alex asked.

“Afterwards, apparently Owen tried to tell Father what really happened, but Father wouldn't listen. He never forgave Owen. Every Earl of Moreland in the history of the title was an Eton graduate. Father told Owen he'd brought shame upon the family. He told him he was no good and would never amount to anything.”

“And Owen set about proving him right?” Alex finished.

“Precisely,” Cass said. “And he has far too much honor and pride to tell Father the truth now.”

“It's so sad. All that lost time over something so insignificant,” Alex said.

“It wasn't insignificant to Father or Owen,” Cass replied.

“No, of course not,” Alex agreed. “But in the end, it was just a stable. And it's not as if Harrow is a bad school.”

Lucy shook her head. “Of course not. But now you perhaps might understand a bit more about him. We adore Owen, you see, and we think you are perfectly suited to him.”

Alex glanced among all three ladies, not at all certain how the story she'd just heard had anything to do with her suitability for Owen. “What are you saying?”

Cass leaned forward and patted her hand. “We know you care for him, Alex, and we're saying we want to help you. But first we must warn you that our methods can often be … unpredictable.” Cass stared at Lucy when she uttered that last word.

Lucy raised her chin in the air. “Unpredictable, perhaps, but effective.”

“Granted,” Jane replied, “but ever so troublesome at times.”

Troublesome? Alex didn't like the sound of that. “I don't understand. What do you want to help me with?”

“Why, to bring Owen to heel, of course,” Cass replied. “I'd all but despaired of him finding a love match.”

Alex's eyes nearly popped from her skull. “A love match?”

Cass laughed. “Yes, of course. The way he's been speaking about you, why, he's half in love with you already. I'm quite convinced.”

Alex's face fell. “Only half?”

Cass patted her hand again. “Men can be a bit thick sometimes. But don't worry. We'll help.”

“Yes,” Lucy said, settling into her chair and clearly warming to her subject. “We have a plan.”

“A plan?” Alex echoed, her eyes widening again.

“Oh no, not a plan.” Jane groaned and put the back of her wrist to her forehead.

“Ignore her, Alex,” Lucy said with a sniff.

“What exactly is your plan?” Alex ventured.

The duchess's smile lit her different-colored eyes. “Well, Cass and I have been talking, and we think Owen needs a bit of
real
competition.”

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

The next evening, Owen steeled his resolve and forced himself to attend the Heathcliffs' ball. He'd spent far too much time trying to court Lavinia Hobbs in the way she preferred. He was done with niceties. Now he was going to court her on his terms. Whether she liked it or not.

Owen searched the crowd. Lavinia was near the refreshment table, her usual group of friends—or perhaps they were the ladies too frightened of her temper to cut her—by her side. Her nose was turned up in its usual fashion. Owen blew out a deep breath. He couldn't make his legs walk over to her. He continued his search of the room. He looked twice. There, on the dance floor, was Alex. She looked bright and fresh and pretty as usual in a light green gown with a smile on her face and a twinkle in her eye and she was dancing with … Viscount Berkeley. She was laughing, smiling, and batting at the viscount's shoulder with her fan. In short, she was doing all the things that
Owen
had taught her to do, and she was doing them as if she were born to the role of consummate flirt.

The two most unexpected feelings twisted in Owen's gut. Jealousy. Envy. Both so foreign to him, he nearly didn't recognize them at first. But the more he watched the viscount spin Alex around on the floor, the more he wanted to crush the man's throat in his hands and take his place. Yes. That
had
to be jealousy.

Owen watched like a scorned suitor from the sidelines with increasing envy as the dance ended and Berkeley escorted Alex over to the refreshment table, where he plucked a glass of champagne from one of the silver trays and handed it to her with a gallant bow. Owen hated gallants. He squeezed his fist as if he were squeezing it around Berkeley's neck. Berkeley was not only eligible and handsome but young and tall, too, and he had an impeccable reputation. No drinking too much or gambling too much or too much anything. In fact, if the viscount were known for anything, it was rarely coming to town and spending far too much time by himself in the North of England at his estate.
That
was whom Alex preferred? Lord Saintly?

He searched his memory for what Alex had said about the man whom she fancied. Tall, handsome, titled, blond with blue eyes, not much luck on the marriage mart to date. The description fit Berkeley perfectly. Damn his tall, handsome, blond-haired, blue-eyed hide.

Owen's gaze flashed back to Lavinia. She was also watching Alex as if her interest in Berkeley had piqued her curiosity as well. Owen closed his eyes briefly and forced himself to stride over to Lavinia.

“My lady.” He bowed.

Lavinia's face turned to a mask of stone. She sighed. “My lord.”

Her friends giggled. Owen ignored them.

“Happy to see me, are you?” he quipped.

She merely pursed her lips.

Behind her back, Owen could still see Alex and Berkeley talking. “I'd ask you to dance, but I have a feeling you'd say no.”

“You're correct, my lord,” Lavinia replied.

“Would you care for a rock?”

Lavinia gave him a look that clearly indicated she believed he might have lost his mind. “A rock?”

The other ladies giggled more.

“Never mind.” Owen slid his hand into his pocket. “About the dance. Is there anything I can do to change your—?” Alex laughed at something Berkeley said, loud enough for Owen to hear, making him lose his train of thought. Then Berkeley offered Alex his arm and they headed back to the dance floor.
Two
dances with the same man in a row? Had Owen taught her
nothing
?

“What was that, my lord?” Lavinia's face registered her pique at Owen's sudden lack of full-blown attention.

“Excuse me a moment, Lady Lavinia.” Owen didn't wait for an answer. Instead he stalked off to the dance floor, dodged the couples flying around him, and tapped Berkeley on the shoulder. “May I cut in?”