The Untamed Earl (27 page)

“I'm afraid not. I don't plan to return to London for the better part of a year.”

“I'm sorry to hear that.” She reached out and squeezed his hand. “Thank you so much, for everything, my lord.”

“I wish you well with your pursuit of Monroe. I only hope I've not done more harm than good there.”

Alex didn't want to talk about Owen. “Thank you. I can only hope for you to find your true love someday.”

Lord Berkeley bowed at the waist. “It was my pleasure, Lady Alexandra. I, too, hope to find my true love one day. I've had the devil's own luck so far.” He smiled at her. “I've decided to give up for the time being and retreat to my Scottish hunting lodge, where I won't have to think about debutantes and dancing and being charming for a bit. I'm greatly looking forward to time away from London and all its social obligations.”

Alex laughed. “I don't blame you.” At the moment, she, too, wanted to get away from London and all its social obligations. Hence, the trip to Bath. Society, it seemed, had followed her here. “But you're always charming, my lord. I don't doubt for a minute you'll find someone quite special. It doesn't matter where you may be residing.”

He grinned at her and bowed again. “Until we meet again.” He turned away to go back inside, but Alex stopped him.

Confound it. She couldn't stop herself from asking. “Lord Berkeley?”

“Yes?”

“Did you know Owen would be in attendance here tonight?”

Lord Berkeley shook his head. “I didn't. And something tells me the time for trying to make him jealous is over.”

She glanced away. “Long over.”

“For what it's worth, he apologized for punching me.”

The hint of a smile touched her lips. “Did you accept his apology?”

“Yes.” He stepped closer again. “I'll let you in on a secret: The man may be a bit of a hothead from time to time, but I think he's a decent chap, deep down. And for what it's worth, I think he truly loves you.”

 

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

After Lord Berkley left her in the gardens, Alex didn't have much enthusiasm left to stay at the party. She was unhappy with her friends for tricking her, she was angry with Owen for appearing without warning, and she was sad to say good-bye to the one good friend she treasured, Lord Berkeley. Despite his insistence that Owen loved her, she couldn't be certain of that at all. The man had never said as much and she had no other reason to believe it, other than her remnant of wishful thinking. Besides, Lord Berkeley was the type who has obviously wanted to make her feel better. Alex lifted her skirts and turned toward the door. It was time to go to bed. She would just go back inside, find Jane, her hostess, and say good night.

Alex was slowly walking up the terrace steps when the door opened and Lucy Hunt came hurtling out. Lucy plunked her hands on her hips. “Don't tell me you're retiring already.” The duchess sounded displeased.

Alex nodded. “Yes, I'm quite tired, and I—” Why was she explaining herself to Lucy Hunt, at any rate? She was angry with the woman. “Your Grace, I beg your pardon, but I'm not particularly pleased with you at the moment and I wish to go to bed, so if you'll just—”

“You mean you want to hide from Owen,” Lucy said.

Alex scowled at her. “No. Certainly not. I—”

Lucy wrapped her arm through Alex's and led her back down the steps and into the gardens. “You're angry with me for orchestrating this event and inviting Owen, but if you'd only see it's for your own good, you'd be ever so much happier sooner.” Lucy released her arm and smiled at Alex. “And yes, you are hiding from Owen. Don't try to deny it. I was in a great deal of denial and confusion at this very house not long ago. I know denial when I see it.”

Alex narrowed her eyes on the duchess. “What do you mean?”

“Derek punched a tree, then climbed one—a different tree, that is—this one right here, actually.” She flourished her hand in front of the huge oak that rested in the center of the lawn. “Look up there. That large branch nearly meets the window of that bedchamber. I happened to be staying there at the time, and, well, Derek climbed right up.”

Alex supposed she should be shocked at that bit of news, but from what she knew of the duchess, it sounded in keeping with her exploits. “That's my bedchamber,” Alex whispered.

“Oh,
that's
interesting,” Lucy said, a sly smile on her face.

“But you didn't finish what you were saying. Derek climbing up the tree confused you?”

“No. The tree climbing didn't confuse me half so much as the fact that after I allowed him into my bedchamber to see to his bloody fist and ensure such an esteemed war hero didn't fall to his death, he kissed me.”

“And
that
confused you?”

“Entirely.” Lucy nodded and lowered her voice. “Though the truth is that had I known then what I know now, I wouldn't have allowed him to leave my bedchamber with only a kiss.”

Alex gasped and clamped her hand over her mouth.

“I'm so sorry, dear. Have I shocked you? I didn't mean to. Cass always says my mouth works faster than my brain sometimes.”

Alex shook her head. “I'm certain you were quite in love with His Grace, and planning to marry, but Owen and I—”

“Oh no, no, no. I wasn't settled on him at all. That's what I'm trying to tell you. When Derek kissed me that night, it was the beginning of a great deal of confusion. You see, I thought he was going to become betrothed to Cass, and I would never betray my closest friend.”

Alex gasped again. She couldn't help herself. “Cass? But she and Lord Swifdon—”

“Julian. Yes, I know. Oh, it's a
very
long story, dear. Long and complicated, but suffice it to say that everyone knew that Derek and I were a better match. Everyone
except
the two of us, of course.”

“So you're saying that Owen and I—”

“Are obviously a perfect match. We agreed to invite him here so that you would have the opportunity to talk and see the truth yourself. Owen was quite adamant that he see you and have the chance to speak with you alone. But you've been quite stubborn and refused to listen to him. I came out here to say I think you should give him the opportunity to tell you how he feels.”

Alex sniffed. “You don't know everything he's done, and—”

“I may not know all the details,” Lucy agreed. “But I've known Owen since I was a child, and he's a good man. A very good man.”

“I know, you told me, the story about Eton and—”

“It's not just that, dear. It's many things he's done over the years. The way he treats Cass. The way he speaks softly to his horses. The respect he's always shown his mother. Take my word for it. He may have acted like an ass of late, but we all do stupid things at times. Let him tell you how he feels.”

Alex sighed. “Owen's not the sort to tell a lady how he feels.”

“Perhaps not in the past, dear, but give him a chance. These men of ours, they do surprise us from time to time.”

Alex pressed the back of her hand to her forehead. This night was becoming more exhausting and more confusing, not less so. “So what are you saying? Owen should punch a tree, kiss me, and confuse me?”

“Not at all. I'm simply saying that you should hear him out.” Lucy turned away briefly and then peeked back over her shoulder with a sly smile. “And, if he just so happens to climb up to your bedchamber, don't let him leave.”

 

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

Alex couldn't sleep. She tossed and turned and flipped her pillow over at least a dozen times. It was too hot in her bedchamber. That was the problem. She climbed out of bed and made her way over to the window in the dark. Feeling her way around, she pushed open the casement. A rustling sound in the tree caught her attention. She peered and blinked out into the inky night sky. The light from the moon illuminated enough to see the outline of a man swinging from the large branch nearby. Alex's heart nearly stopped. It couldn't possibly be …

She rubbed her eyes and looked again. Yes. There was Owen … scaling the tree. She opened the window farther and nearly screamed as he swung himself inside. He landed in an ignominious heap on the floor just inside the window. He'd ripped his shirt, and there was a smudge of dirt on his cheek.

Alex clamped a hand over her mouth to keep from screaming and waking the household. “Owen,” she whispered fiercely. “What in God's name are you doing? You could have been killed!”

Owen groaned, pushed himself to his feet, and brushed leaves from his hair. “Yes, I know that now. But I spoke to Lucy earlier, and she indicated that you may have had a change of heart from what you said to me earlier in the ballroom. And damn me, but I decided to take Claringdon's advice.”

Alex hurried over to the bedside table and lit a candle. She returned to where Owen was standing, holding the stick aloft. “Claringdon's advice?”

“Yes,” Owen replied. “Claringdon suggested I get drunk, punch a tree, climb into your window, and kiss you.”

She eyed him distrustfully. “Are you drunk?”

“No. I haven't been drunk in days, actually.”

“Are you mad?”

“Not that I'm aware, but there's every possibility. I've ruined a damn fine shirt, and my coat is resting on a hedge down there somewhere. I admit I fear for its safety. Though I have yet to punch a tree, so the odds seem to be in my favor. But I did climb one. Apparently, Claringdon's in much better physical shape than I am because I nearly killed myself doing it. Perhaps it's easier when you're drunk. I can't be certain.”

Alex stared at him with her mouth open. “You have gone mad.”

“Look, Alex, please listen to me.” He turned to her and addressed her fervently, pulling her hand into his. “Hear me out—and then if you want me to leave, I'll go, immediately. You have my word.”

“Very well,” she said. “I'll hear you out.”

Owen squeezed her hand. “When I was teaching you how to be a coquette, how to flirt and dance and bat your eyelashes, I was doing everything wrong. The reason you're special is because you're honest and forthright and refreshing.”

Alex held her breath. Had he just said she was special?

“You don't play games,” he continued. “You don't pretend to be someone you're not. And that's what I love about you. Among many other things.”

Tears stung her eyes. She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Did you say ‘love'?”

“I did. I do. I can only hope that you will—” He dropped to one knee. “Lady Alexandra Hobbs, please tell me you'll consider doing me the honor of becoming my bride.”

“You want to marry me, Owen?” The tears fell from her eyes.

“Yes, of course.” He fumbled in his coat pocket for a handkerchief and pressed it into her hand. “Please don't cry, darling. Please.”

She dabbed at her tears. “I can't believe you're here, saying this. I can't believe you traveled to Bath, and climbed a tree, and—”

“I not only traveled to Bath and climbed a tree, but I also gave all my money to the poorhouse, am planning a run for the House of Commons, and have begun volunteering at an orphanage.”

“Pardon?”

“That's what I'm trying to tell you, Alex. You've made me a better man. From the day I first met you, you have. I've stopped drinking, I can't remember the last time I gambled, and my life has purpose now.”

She quickly pushed the candlestick onto a nearby table and grabbed both his hands and squeezed. “Oh, Owen. I'm so happy for you. Truly, I am. I always knew you could find your way.”

“Do me a favor, love?”

“Anything.” She clutched his hand to her heart.

“Answer my question.” He grinned at her. “You never said. Will you marry me?”

“Yes. Yes, I'll marry you.” She nodded, brushing away fresh tears.

He pulled her into his arms, and his mouth captured hers.

Alex's head fell back and her eyes closed. “Take me to bed,” she whispered.

His hands trembled. “Are you certain?”

“Entirely.” She stared deeply into his eyes.

Apparently, that was all Owen needed to hear. He swung her into his arms and carried her to the bed. He laid her there so gently. The only light was from the one candle that she'd left burning across the room. He fell atop her and kissed her ravenously, and Alex wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed against his erection, which was poking at her most intimate spot through her gown. He ripped off her night rail and then stopped to remove his boots and cravat and shirt and breeches. They were all gone in short order.

“Are you certain, Alex?” he breathed again. She'd pulled the bedsheets up to her neck, but they didn't stop her from looking her fill at his magnificent body. She'd once thought he looked like Adonis. More so when he was naked. His shoulders were wide and strong, his forearms muscled, his chest taut and lightly haired, and his abdomen flat. His hips were angular and his manhood stood out, in stark relief, reaching for her. He was huge. She wanted to touch him. Now.

“I'm certain,” she whispered, licking her lips.

There was a flash of relief across his face and then he smiled—and that dimple was her final undoing.

“Don't hide from me, Alex. Let me see you.”

Alex hesitated but allowed him to pull the sheet away to uncover her nakedness.

“You're perfect,” he breathed, his hands skimming over her belly and hips and breasts. He cupped her breasts and squeezed lightly. “Exactly as I imagined you would be.”

“You imagined me … naked?”

He snorted. “More often than I should have, I'm sure. What about me? Did you ever imagine me, like this?” He glanced down at his body.