Page 88 of Empowered By the Earl (Second Sons of London 3)

“A word, my lord?” the viscount asked.

He wondered what the man wanted and nodded, slowing his pace so that they fell behind the others.

Boxling looked at him sternly. “I did not take you for a fool, Lord Danbury.”

“And you do now?” he asked, put out.

“Yes,” Boxling said succinctly. “You have the heart of an amazing woman. I cannot for the life of me understand why you have wounded Miss Goulding so.”

“Wounded her?” he asked, mystified by the viscount’s words. “Why, I have offered for her—and she accepted.”

Now, Boxling looked utterly confused. “I do not understand. It makes no sense.”

“What?” Owen asked, impatient.

“When I tried to make my feelings known to Miss Goulding this afternoon, she very gently and kindly turned me away. She said her heart belonged to another but it had been bruised. She did not want to lead me on in any way and suggested I look to other female guests at the house party.” Boxling paused. “Why would she speak as if she did not have an offer from you?”

Clueless, Owen shrugged. “I will get to the bottom of this, Boxling. Know that I was absent from Cliffside today because I was at Doctors’ Commons purchasing a special license. I intend to wed Miss Goulding as soon as possible.”

The viscount visibly relaxed. “Then that is good news, my lord. I hope you will quickly clear up whatever misunderstanding there is between you.”

Boxling nodded brusquely and strode off, leaving Owen to remain behind. He couldn’t think why Louisa would tell the viscount her heart had been hurt. Not after he had made known his intention to wed her. Not after the night they had spent together.

Then it slammed into him, like a blacksmith bringing down his hammer on his anvil.

Louisa had seen Miss Rexford kissing him.

It was the only possibility that would make her doubt him. Owen had to speak to her now. Before she threw up an impenetrable wall.

He rushed down the corridor, running full speed, passing all of the men heading to the drawing room. Bursting into the room, he raced inside, seeing every woman’s jaw drop at his appearance.

Except Louisa’s. She looked at him with dull eyes.

“We must talk,” he said, moving toward her.

She rose, her chin raising a notch, a bit of defiance coming into her eyes. “Yes, I agree.”

Owen strode toward her with purpose—and swept her off her feet.

“What are you doing?” she squeaked as he started carrying her across the room. “Put me down at once.”

He paused, his gaze pinning hers. “No,” he said firmly. Glancing at the astonished group, he added, “Nothing to worry about. Miss Goulding and I are to be wed.”

“We are not going to wed,” she said, her voice raised.

“Oh, yes, we are, sweetheart.”

Owen exited the room, tuning out Louisa’s pleas to set her down. Instead, he tightened his grip on her because she was squirming and didn’t want to lose his grasp on her.

He took her to his bedchamber, flinging open the door and slamming it behind him. He threw the lock and then crossed the room, tossing her onto his bed.

Immediately, she scrambled off it—but he blocked her way. His hands went to her waist to hold her in place as his mouth crashed against hers. Her fists beat on his back as she tried to free herself.

That wasn’t going to happen.

Owen kissed her deeply, dominating her, hoping she would submit. She responded by stopping her fist pounding and going utterly still. She did not react to his kiss. Then she thrust her knee hard into his bollocks.

White-hot pain shot through him as he gasped, releasing her and stumbling back. Tears stung his eyes and he blinked, trying to see.

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