Page 61 of Empowered By the Earl (Second Sons of London 3)

Chapter Eighteen

Owen no longerwanted to be at this house party. He didn’t want to do Adalyn a favor and keep her numbers even. He didn’t want to be nice to people who were perfect strangers to him. Lady Sara and Miss Oxford got on his nerves with their constant giggling. Miss Rexford kept casting amorous looks his way, which he ignored. Miss Peterson was... well, Miss Peterson had said very little to him. She seemed the most sensible of the bunch but, at this moment, all females were getting on his nerves.

He hadn’t even known he had nerves until today.

As for the gentlemen, he didn’t wish for any friends beyond the Second Sons of London. That is, if he was even still friends with them. Spence was still shooting him daggers, while Tessa ignored Owen. Everett wouldn’t be in a friendly frame of mind if Owen up and left for Danfield. Adalyn would be enraged, seeing her plans ruined.

The other gentlemen were not the kind he wanted to be friendly with. Oh, Hampton seemed a good enough sort if a bit young and clueless. Lord Marksbury had a bit of a sly sense of humor but nothing else stood out about him. As for Lord Boxling, he still believed the viscount to be unfit for Louisa.

And Owen was now having his doubts about Lord Hurley.

While he thought he had supported the former military officer’s suit, he didn’t like how aggressive the man seemed when it came to Louisa. Hurley had already openly discussed with Owen his wish to wed and quickly start a family. He had also made no secret of his interest in Louisa. He had dined with her at breakfast and cozied up to her aunt and uncle upon their arrival. Then when it was announced that they would be divided into partners for the lawn bowling, Hurley had practically run to Louisa’s side and stolen her as his partner. Owen had thought he might ask her to play with him so that they could talk. He wanted to make amends for their earlier tiff.

Now, he was stuck with Miss Oxford, thanks to Adalyn’s meddling, and would have to watch Louisa and Hurley together the rest of the afternoon. It was enough to bring on a bloody headache. Not that he ever got them.

But there was always a first time.

“My lord, have you played this game before?” asked Miss Oxford, squinting a bit in the sun.

“Yes, of course,” he said brusquely. Then he saw her lip tremble and thought if she cried on him, he would have a massive headache. Wanting to forestall her tears and his aching head, he added, “I will be happy to show you what you need to know.”

He glanced about and saw that was most likely the point of playing in mixed partners. It would allow the men to help their helpless female partners. He watched Boxling laughing, trying to show Miss Peterson what to do and how she flirted outrageously with him. Now, those two would be a good pair.

“Let me get a few of the bowls and we shall practice.”

Owen retrieved several and did his best, trying to walk Miss Oxford through the steps for a good toss. Unfortunately, Lord Hurley was doing the same with Louisa. Her rolls were wild and after each one, she would laugh richly.

He wanted to kiss her into silence. Her seductive laugh was keeping him off-balance. He couldn’t even think. Why was this happening? A woman had never affected him in such a way.

Returning his glance to his partner, he saw every attempt had gone into the ditch. “Try again, Miss Oxford. You will get the hang of it, I am certain,” he told his companion, doubting the featherhead ever would.

Pretending to watch his partner, Owen instead stole glances at Louisa and Hurley. The damned man handed her a ball and then went behind her, his arms going around her as he instructed her how to hold and roll it, as if she were some drooling idiot and hadn’t a clue how to do so.

“In this way, my lord?” Louisa asked, her voice low.

Damnation! She even gave the viscount one of the glances that Owen and she had practiced, fluttering her eyelashes prettily. Rage boiled within him. He forced himself to keep his feet planted instead of charging over there and smashing his fist into Hurley’s face.

“I think we are about ready to begin,” Ev told the group. “If you will retrieve your bowls, we can start.”

After a draw, Lord Boxling won the mat and had the honor of rolling the jack to the other end of the green to serve as the target. He strutted about like a peacock before making an excellent toss, which all the ladies applauded. Owen’s gaze met Hampton’s and he shrugged.

As expected, his partner’s two bowls fell in the ditch. Thankfully, Owen’s both made it close to the jack.

“I rather like calling it a kitty,” Miss Oxford said to him. “I like that name better than jack.”

“Call it whatever you wish, Miss Oxford,” he said, trying his best to keep exasperation from his voice as he looked with interest as Hurley and Louisa made their way to the mat.

The viscount allowed Louisa to go first. Surprisingly, her bowl rolled true down the center of the green, the first time that had occurred.

She shouted with glee. “I did it!” Her face glowed with pleasure.

It made him want to kiss her even more.

Hurley made a fine roll, while Louisa’s second turn proved as disastrous as Miss Oxford’s rolls.

“Oh, well,” she said. “I suppose my beginner’s luck has come to an end.”

After all six teams completed their turns and measurements were taken, two were eliminated, including Hampton and Miss Rexford and Owen and Miss Oxford.

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