Owen chuckled, a low, musical sound, effortlessly dancing the glass from my reach. “It’s water,” he said through his laughter.
I withdrew my hand and scowled at him. I growled inside. My cheeks burned with the chagrin of his tease. What an abhorrent, loathsome man! Nefarious, even! He had not changed a bit. In fact, he may have become worse than before.
“I’m sorry,” he sighed. “That was a cruel joke. But now, if you please, would you allow me to tend to this poor boy?” His eyes were dancing with amusement.
I hardened my scowl and stared directly at him, trying to intimidate him somehow. I wished he could hear how frightening my inner growling sounded. That would have terrified him, I was sure of it.
But clearly, my glare wasn’t enough to stop him. He raised a hand in defense and said, “I am terribly sorry, but you cannot have all my attention. I know you desire it, but your brother is ill here and I really must assist him.”
I gasped, giving him my sharpest scowl yet.
His mischievous smile fell from his face at that scowl and he cast me a quizzical look. His eyes flickered over my face with recognition. Then only a second later, he shook his head as if to clear it, chuckling once more. “I am sorry. My manners are gone from me today.”
I was shocked to see that he looked truly apologetic. I wondered what his quizzical look meant.
Then he smiled, broadly and without mischief, causing a dimple to dent one of his cheeks. That was another thing that had not changed. “Forgive me. It was as if I were thirteen years old again.”
I barely caught his wink.
My heart pounded a little harder. Did he remember me? I tried to shoot him a quizzical look of my own, but he had turned to Charles again and was helping him sit up, instructing him to slowly drink the water. I waited patiently for him to turn to me again. When he did, he crossed his arms, watching me with a knowing smile.
“Tell me … have you ever climbed a tree?”
So. He did remember. But he wasn’t absolutely sure. I decided to make him wonder a little longer. “A woman climbing a tree? What an absurd scenario. Of course I have not.” I tried to look absolutely appalled by the idea, shaking my head and scrunching my brows.
It seemed to work, for his knowing smile faltered, the change almost unperceivable. But he was still watching me. His eyes were penetrating straight into my mind. I just knew it. He could tell I was lying. Finally he spoke again, changing the subject. “We have not given our introductions, have we?”
“We have not,” I responded coolly.
“We could wait for my mother to return to introduce us, but since the bounds of propriety have already been breached … ,” He stood, moving in front of me at the settee. “Might I make myself known to you. Dr. Kellaway. A physician and second son of a third son of a baron.” He grinned in such a way that I almost found myself laughing. “But you might remember me by my Christian name, Owen.” He smiled, searching my face for clues.
I put on a confused expression. “Remember you? I do not believe we have met, Dr. Kellaway.”
His head was tipped to the side, his gaze searching my face. There was a faint smile on his lips that told me he was not entirely convinced. I held perfectly still, hoping he could not see in my eyes the same little girl that fell from the tree.
“What is your name?” he asked in a smooth voice.
This question should have caught me off guard, but I had prepared myself. “Miss Milba Durbin,” I replied casually, daring him with a look to question it. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Peter jerk his head to me. I begged him silently to keep quiet.
Owen’s smile grew and he reclaimed his seat beside Charles. “That is not your name.”
“I find it awfully presumptuous that you claim to know better than me what my own name is.”
He pressed his lips together, his eyes brimming with laughter. He looked down at his boots. “I apologize, Miss Durbin.”
I crossed my arms, fighting another wayward urge to laugh. I maintained my cool demeanor. “That is much better.”
Charles reached out a finger and tapped Owen on the shoulder. “Dr. Kell-today, you said her name wrong.”
My stomach dropped.
Owen tipped his head back with a laugh, lifting an eyebrow in my direction. “Did I?”
Charles gave a quick nod before I could stop him. Peter nodded in agreement. “Her name is not Milba,” he said before snorting into giggles.
Now both Owen’s eyebrows were raised. “Hmm. How interesting.”
My face was hot under his gaze.
“I did not think you looked like a Milba Durbin.” He shook his head with a wide smile.
I scolded myself for noticing how his smile moved him from handsome to devastating. It was not wise for me to continue thinking about his looks.
“Do you wish to disclose to me your actual name?”
“No, thank you.” I smoothed my hands over my gown, noticing the vomit that still stained around the lower part of my skirts.
“You do seem much too old to be playing pretend.”
I glanced up sharply. “You do seem much too old to be pestering a woman you only just met about her name if she does not wish to tell it.” I leaned my elbow over the side of my chair so I could face him more fully.
He gave an exasperated sigh that made me smile. “Why do you refuse to tell me?”
I shrugged one shoulder, shifting my gaze to Charles who was looking much improved, sitting with a dimpled grin and wide eyes. It took all my concentration to maintain my act and not break into laughter.
“You cannot conceal your name from me forever,” he countered.
It was true, and I hated that he was right. But because it bothered him so much, I was going to conceal my identity for as long as possible.
He sighed again, as if giving up for the moment, and turned his attention to my brothers. “And what is your relation to ‘Miss Milba’? Are you nephews, or … ,” His words faded as he prompted them to answer.
I couldn’t stop my sardonic comment. “I am afraid my age would deny that I have two children if that is what you were thinking on.”
Owen smiled lazily. “I did not think on that for a moment. Not remotely.” His eyes sparked with amusement. “You do seem far too old to have children of such youth.”
My face pulled tight with indignation. Owen Kellaway was not lacking in wit, and I did not appreciate that fact.
“A sister perhaps?” he asked Peter.
He gave a shy nod of his head.
“Since I cannot know your sister’s name, may I ask your names?”
I noticed Peter sit up a little straighter. “My name is Peter and this is my brother Charles.”
“Peter!” Charles whined, his light brows drawing together. “I wanted to say my name!”
Owen laughed softly before saying, “Peter, Charles, it is a pleasure to meet you both.”
They stared at Owen with quiet awe on their faces. Of course they were going to admire him. He was one of the only men they had ever spoken to. But I didn’t fancy the idea of this man becoming their idol.
“And since we are friends now, you may call me Owen.” He patted Charles’s head and gave them each a warm smile. The gentleness in his eyes tugged at my heartstrings, reminding me of the way my father looked at me. Distracted by this as I was, my thoughts were not clear when Owen turned to me and said, “And you may call me Owen too. After all, it is what you called me before.”
I shook my head, my words spilling out before I could plan them. “We were children, I couldn’t possibly—” I stopped myself, realizing my mistake too late.
Owen grinned in victory. “I knew it was you.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, blocking out his grin. I wanted to cover my ears too, because he was laughing, and his laugh was too infectious and endearing.
“I am sincerely sorry about the tree … ,”
My eyes flew open. “I cannot believe you forced me to do that! I was only nine yea
rs old! I could have broken an arm or a leg or—”
“But you didn’t,” he said through a laugh. “Remind me … what was it we were doing in that tree?” He threw me a wink that made me gasp and sent a blush to my cheeks.
“You were throwing acorns at a woman passing below us.”
He gave a hard laugh. “Ah, yes, that was it.” He smiled at me teasingly, a sight that I sensed I would see more than once during our visit.
“You’re atrocious,” I said with a half-hearted glare.
“I’m atrocious too!” Charles exclaimed.
Peter pointed at himself with a serious look. “But I am most atrocious of all, I think.”
Owen laughed again and widened his eyes. “Well, if you two are atrocious, then it must be a very fine thing to be. Well done.”
These three would get along quite well, I knew it already. But I doubted that Owen could help improve their behavior. His own behavior was still in need of improvement.
I realized then that I was smiling at him. Straight into his blue eyes that smiled back. I looked away immediately, feigning interest in the books on the tea table. Were his eyes truly that striking when we met before? A heart would have to be as guarded as the walls of Newgate to be unaffected by eyes like his. I counted myself fortunate that mine most certainly was.
I hadn’t even noticed Mrs. Kellaway enter the room again, Lizzie beside her near the doorway. I straightened myself on the settee and tried to appear more content than I felt. Mrs. Kellaway hurried forward just after I noticed her. “How is he?” she asked Owen.
“He seems to be feeling much better.”
Charles smiled and nodded in affirmation.
“Wonderful! Come now, darling. I will show you to your room.” She took Charles by the arm and pulled him up from his place on the settee. She waved a hand for Peter to join them. “Lizzie, show Miss Downing to her room as well, please. And take her trunk.”
The maid nodded submissively and walked out the door to the entry hall to pick up my trunk. “Follow me,” Lizzie said with a smile, heading toward the staircase.
I hurried to catch up to her. A small bloom of anxiety pushed me forward. “I can carry my trunk.”
“No, no, miss, I will carry it for you.” She hardly glanced my way, but I saw a fleet of surprise in her profile.
I grasped her shoulder gently, stopping her at the foot of the staircase. “I appreciate your willingness to assist me, but may I carry it, please?”
She looked at me hesitantly. “Are you certain, miss?”
“Yes.”
She handed me the trunk. “If you insist.”
“Thank you, Lizzie.” I felt much better with the weight of my traveling trunk under my arm. She looked nervous, but I smiled to reassure her that I was fine. She smiled back lightly and we started up the staircase. About halfway to the top, I felt a hand on my shoulder, making me jump a little. I turned my head to see Owen standing behind me.
“Oh.” I relaxed only slightly. “May I help you, Dr. Kellaway?”
He frowned. “We already had this discussion. I would prefer that you call me Owen.” He grinned and leaned casually against the banister as if amused about something.
“What?” I snapped.
He scrunched his face in disgust. Then he sniffed the air around me. “Something smells awful.”
I gaped at him. How bold! He must have noticed my complete shock, because he pointed at the large stain that Charles had inflicted on my dress. My mood immediately lightened and I laughed in masked embarrassment. “Yes, I suppose I should change …”
“That must be where all of Charles’s vomit went. He was completely clean.” He chuckled. “But don’t worry, that is not the only reason I followed you up here. There are three reasons, actually.”
I raised my eyebrows, inviting, or rather, daring him to continue.
“The first reason, of course, was to inform you of the vomit of which you were abashedly unaware.” His eyes danced teasingly. “The second reason was because I couldn’t help my curiosity about something. I noticed that you took your trunk from Lizzie. Why?”
I shrugged. I hadn’t been asked that question before, and I wasn’t certain that I even knew the answer. The best response I could come up with was, “I like to do things on my own.”
Owen stared at me for several seconds in silence, an intent look in his eye. I shifted uncomfortably, suddenly very aware of how close he stood. On the step directly below me, he was much closer to my height, and I could see more clearly the details of his overwhelming face.
“You are not like any other lady I have met. Not in the slightest,” he said finally. The hint of admiration in his voice moved me to avert my eyes. I felt a light blush creep onto my cheeks and tingle on the tips of my ears. I glanced up to find his gaze still fixed on me. Was there something on my face? Oh, yes. My sunburn. I had nearly forgotten. The realization only made my face burn hotter.
“I know you must be curious about my sunburnt face, so I will just tell you. My brothers hid my bonnet as a joke, and I was out of doors far too long without it. That is all. Now, I would greatly appreciate it if you stopped staring.”
He looked surprised by what I said, but he still didn’t look away. “You shouldn’t be ashamed, you know. I see nothing wrong with a young lady enjoying a bit of sunshine every now and then.”
My eyes fell to my boots. “Most people see many things wrong with that.”
“Well, I suppose that is what makes the two of us alike, then. We are not like most people. And I hope you never try to be.”
I couldn’t hear any teasing in his voice, so I sneaked a careful glance up at him. I wasn’t expecting to see the kind twist to his smile and the warm look that was in his eyes. I couldn’t help but smile back.
“While we are on the topic …” He pulled his hand out from behind his back and extended my bonnet. “My third reason. Unless your brothers have a taste for female fashion, I believe this is yours.”
“Oh …” I reached forward and took my bonnet from his hand. I remembered leaving it on the cushion beside me in the drawing room. “I seem to misplace that often.” I smiled an inch. “Thank you.”
He laughed then looked at me sincerely. “If the burn gives you discomfort, I have something that can help.”
I tried to think of a reason why I should accept further assistance from him, but I couldn’t. “No, I will be fine. But thank you. And I want to thank you for helping Charles.”
He waved off my words with his hand. “I did nothing that warrants gratitude. Being out of the carriage was a cure in itself. But if he feels ill again during any part of your visit, please inform me so I may be of assistance.”
I nodded, not knowing what else to say.
“Well, Miss Milba Durbin, it was a pleasure to meet you.” He had a teasing look in his eyes.
I was suddenly unable to prevent a smile from lifting my lips. “My real name is Miss Annette Downing.”
He tipped his head closer to me, and in a soft voice, asked, “Will you permit me to call you Annette?”
I was shocked by his familiarity. Yes, we had met before but that was a long time ago. And we certainly were not friends. “Miss Downing would be just fine.” Then I flashed a quick smile and turned to continue up the stairs, eager to escape his unsettling gaze. He had certainly grown too handsome for the good of anyone.
“I bid you farewell … Annette.”
I turned to him in sudden outrage. If he thought his disrespect to be amusing, he was very mistaken. Prepared to deliver a witty diatribe, I was annoyed further to see him laughing, sauntering down the staircase without a glance back. He was insufferable.
A
Chapter 4
After lingering for a few frustrated moments in my place on the staircase, I stepped—or rather stomped—up to where Lizzie stood waiting for me on the second floor.
“Is everything well, miss?”
“Yes,” I said curtly, my mind muddled with confu
sion. One second he was kind and thoughtful, and the next he was entirely atrocious! My brothers were not going to have anything to do with that man if I could help it.
Lizzie must have read my thoughts because she said, “He really isn’t as horrid as he seems.”
I was surprised by her chosen description of “horrid” for a member of the family she worked for. If Aunt Ruth had ever caught wind of one of her servants using a single ill word to describe her (which I had witnessed on many occasions) they would have been dismissed in a heartbeat.
Recognizing her folly, Lizzie redeemed herself by saying, “Believe me, miss. He is actually quite the gentleman.” Her round eyes widened in sincerity.
I cast her a skeptical look. “I have yet to see that side of him.”
“You will.”
“Doubtful,” I mumbled under my breath as I watched her begin walking down the wide hallway. I shifted my trunk in my arms and followed her to a room on the right.
“Your bedchamber, miss.” She threw the doors open and stepped aside, allowing me to lead through the doorway. I walked inside, letting my gaze sweep over the interior of the room. It was beautiful and large, and I gaped in amazement at the window draped in satin curtains with intricate embroidery. The lofty window framed a breathtaking prospect of the grounds and thick woods behind the home. On the wall beside it was a mirror and ivory chair, and a comfortable-looking bed sat elegantly at the opposite side of the room with a writing desk beside it.
“Lizzie,” I turned around, stunned, “I cannot possibly—”
She flashed a reassuring smile. “Yes, you can. I was instructed to prepare the best rooms in the home for you and your brothers.”
I looked around again, overwhelmed by the luxury of my surroundings. My room at Oak Cottage was not half this size. I moved slowly toward the bed and sat down, laying my trunk and clean gown beside me. I decided to unearth my gracious attitude and accept the accommodations. I lowered my gaze to my hands. “Please send my gratitude to Mrs. Kellaway.”
Mischief and Manors Page 4