Owen paced the length of his bedchamber, wearing light trousers and a dressing gown, but no shirt. His valet, Evans, had come and gone, having helped him undress and put away neckcloths, cuff links, and a hundred other minor details of Owen’s wardrobe. Normally he and Evans would converse at length on any number of topics but tonight he had one thing on his mind.
Rowena Pepperwirth.
Such a lovely young lady and perfect for his needs. Even though he hadn’t had a chance to speak with her that evening, he’d seen enough to know he’d happily bed her. He’d asked Evans tonight to discern where his future bride was sleeping. Apparently, she was in the opposite wing, just past the suit of armor on the left.
Owen checked the clock on the marble mantelpiece above the fireplace in his chamber. Half
