Mischief and Manors

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Mischief and Manors Page 18

by Ashtyn Newbold


  When I finished speaking, I was overwhelmed with a sense of melancholy. I didn’t know where that speech came from, but it cut me straight to the core. And Owen was looking at me with such a strange expression that I had to look down. Then, in a sudden jolt, I knew I couldn’t stay in here any longer. I needed to leave. So I forced a smile and said, “Just consider it.” Then I turned and left the library, feeling like the biggest hypocrite alive.

  When I got to my room, I sat down on my bed, a pinch of ache in my heart. What was happening to me? Why were my emotions running so wildly today? With a sigh, I lay down, and stared at the ceiling—stared at nothing. I wished I could also feel nothing, but my wishes would not prevail. My wishes never prevailed. I could sense a change occurring within me, and it was strong and persistent, like the bite of a broken promise. No matter what I tried, it wouldn’t leave me alone.

  Taking a deep breath, I tried to clear my head. Surely I could think of nothing and feel nothing if I really focused. I gave up after a few seconds. To focus on nothing was nearly as impossible as it was to reverse this change within me.

  No. I sat up, halting my thoughts. No. I could and would and must reverse this change. I was master over my emotions, over my heart. It was not a question. And if being around Owen had given my heart this false sense of independence, then I was glad Miss Lyons was arriving tomorrow. Because then he could toy with her heart, not mine. I could easily stay away from him. Yes. That is what needed to happen. I needed to stay away from him. No more laughing to the point of tears, no more games. If I had to lose Owen in order to properly manage my heart, then that is what I would do.

  I stopped myself. I wasn’t losing Owen. He was never mine. And he couldn’t be mine. I had made a promise to my parents and to myself, and I didn’t intend to break it. I could not allow myself to be distracted from my responsibility toward my brothers. They had nothing—no one—but me, and already I had allowed my heart to slip, to focus on something besides my sweet little brothers and what they needed. How would Mama and Papa see me now? How greatly would they disapprove? The thought sickened me. Owen could not replace my brothers in my affections. His time could not become more important than theirs. I could not love him and love them properly all at once. I feared my heart wasn’t capable of such a thing.

  I wanted to sit in this room and stare at nothing. Because this was a place of order, of rightness. Not that warm library with that secretive, teasing man and his piercing eyes and golden hair. If I was going to leash my heart properly, it would have to be as far away as possible from Owen Kellaway. And that is precisely where I intended to put it. My wishes may have never prevailed, but my intentions always did.

  I hardly slept that night, and restlessness pulled me from my bed the moment the sun touched my window. Today was the day that everyone would arrive. Today was the day I would reclaim control over my heart. And today was the day I would begin staying away from Owen. The firm thought sent a heavy stone of ache to thud in my chest. It beat at my ribs like a thousand barbed fists. But I held onto it, hoping that maybe it could replace my heart all together, hoping that it could whisk away every emotion into its hard, stony walls before I could discover a way to feel them.

  Lizzie came in early to help me get ready, and I couldn’t help but notice how distant she still seemed, as if she was still afraid of something. I could tell by the way her eyes darted and how her voice shook. I watched her carefully, trying to decipher something—anything from her movements. But it was impossible. And I knew she wouldn’t tell me anything, so I didn’t even bother asking. And at any rate, my throat was much too tight for words. There were too many other matters on my mind.

  After Lizzie left the room, I lingered a moment in the ivory chair before the mirror and listened to the birds outside my window. Their chirps held notes—high, resonating sounds—but when they merged together, they held no melody. They were like lonely pieces of sound searching for a place to belong among the bushes and trees and endless grey morning sky. Their noises entered my ears, scratching at my soul with fear and wonder. I was weak, and I hated myself for it. I wished that I could stay in this chair forever and not have to see what awaited me on the main floor.

  My gaze was pulled to the mirror, to my face and my wavy hair, lost between light and dark. There was a glint in my eyes as unmistakable as the breath I held in my lungs. Determination and unwavering resolve cried out in that glint, and seeing it gave me the last burst of strength I needed. So taking a slow exhale, I began mentally assembling my defenses, piece by piece, layer after layer, from my head to my toe to my heart. Until I was sure that even the deepest pair of blue eyes couldn’t pierce it.

  A

  “Blasted boy!” I heard exclaimed as I stepped onto the cold marble of the main floor. I stopped, bewildered. Mrs. Kellaway was running in an almost violent fashion from the drawing room, still in her nightdress, with tight curlers wrapped atop her head. “He ran off without a care about seeing his own brother, sister, and father welcomed?” She stopped running abruptly and pressed the back of a hand against her forehead.

  Grandmother stood near, and placed an austere glance on her daughter. “Now, Catherine. In my opinion, mind you, the boy may have finally come to his senses. And I might add, given the newfound circumstances, he should have visited a long while ago, if only to keep himself acquainted with the place.”

  I felt a keen urge to turn around before I was seen watching and listening. I felt that the conversation was not meant for my ears. And the sight of Mrs. Kellaway running around in her nightdress was certainly not meant for my eyes. My thoughts were confirmed by the sharp glance Mrs. Kellaway threw to silence Grandmother when she spotted me at the base of the staircase. I hurriedly put on an apologetic expression, but Grandmother welcomed it with a smile that was meant to dismiss the situation as ordinary.

  “Good morning, my dear. Aren’t you up early? You look lovely. Let us take a turn around the house to the morning room, shall we?” Her words came very quickly, and her arm was looped around mine before I could say a word.

  She nearly dragged me around the corner and down the hall before I finally asked, “What is wrong?”

  She didn’t answer until she had steered me through the door of that cursed morning room. She was surprisingly strong. She let go of my arm and sat down with a sigh. A huffed breath began her words. “Owen ran off to Willowbourne late last night.” She threw her hands in the air. “Heaven knows why.”

  I couldn’t hide my disbelief. Or my smile. I quickly dashed it away, but not before Grandmother noticed it. “Well, it is very nice to see that someone agrees with me. I have been hoping he would return for years. He didn’t choose the greatest time to leave, to be sure, but whatever it was that pushed him out the door must have been sent by angels.”

  I barely caught her sly smile and wink.

  She placed a wrinkled, bony hand around mine and looked up at me. I thought I saw tears in her eyes. “Thank you, my dear.”

  I opened my mouth to deny my involvement, but she stopped my words by looking down at her hand on mine and shaking it gently. “You are a truly magnificent person, and have been a sure blessing to everyone in this home. To everyone within the realm of your life, of that I am most certain.” She glanced up at me then, and a little smile tugged her heart-shaped lips into their telltale purse. She clucked her tongue and shook her head. “I have never seen a boy so helplessly smitten.”

  I shot her a questioning look, but before I could inquire as to her meaning, the door burst open and Mrs. Kellaway stood panting, combing her hair with her fingers. “A carriage just pulled up the drive! Mother, go to the door and greet them, if you would, please. Thank you kindly.”

  She was about to turn around when she flashed me a wide smile. “And congratulations, Annette, I was most pleased to hear the news! We all knew it was only a matter of time.” Then she disappeared around the doorframe in a swish of white gown and auburn hair.

  What news? I was beyon
d confused. I blinked, swallowed my nerves, and followed Grandmother from the room, trying to comprehend what I had just learned: Owen is at Willowbourne. Miss Lyons is waiting in the carriage, and Owen is away at Willowbourne. A strong surge of relief galloped through my chest.

  We stopped behind the butler in the entry hall, just as a group of footmen descended upon the carriage. I felt strange, waiting to greet others into their own home, but Mrs. Kellaway was busily being made ready, and she was the hostess. I adjusted my gown and smoothed my hair. Nervousness fluttered violently in my stomach. I straightened my posture, and peered out one of the front windows.

  Through the warped glass, between the metal frames, I could see two ladies being escorted up the drive on the arms of two footmen. One I recognized as Alice from the portrait gallery. She had the same auburn hair as her mother, and it reflected copper in the morning sun like a new penny. I remembered her faintly from my short visit ten years ago, but Owen tended to be a bit more memorable. The other, I knew, must be Miss Lyons, but I didn’t get a complete look at her until the door swung open.

  My ears were instantly greeted by the sound of shrill laughter. Sunlight and floral scents wafted through the door, then a head crowned with pale, golden hair, and a set of large, thoughtful eyes came into view. Miss Lyons had her arm looped through Alice’s and they laughed together as if sharing a secret joke.

  My stomach dropped. Her skin was a milky, clear, white, without a blemish to be seen. Her hair was thick and smooth and fair. Her eyes were an icy blue. A sharp pang of inferiority stabbed me like a knife. It was no longer a question why Owen had fallen in love with her. Owen had fallen in love with her. The thought sent a cold, bitter string of ache to wrap around me. I had nothing to do but stare, and wait to be awkwardly noticed.

  Alice saw her grandmother first, and ran toward her for a hug. After she pulled away, her eyes caught on me for the first time, and her brow scrunched together in confusion. I mustered up a bleak smile. Awkward silence hung in the air, making my face warm.

  “This is Miss Annette Downing,” Grandmother said, coming to my rescue, “a dear friend. She and her young brothers are visiting for the summer.”

  Alice’s face dawned with understanding and her lips curved into a smile. But not before I saw her exchange a quick look with Miss Lyons. “It is wonderful to meet you! We don’t often have visitors. My name is Miss Alice Kellaway, the daughter of your hostess, but you may call me Alice.”

  I smiled at her familiarity. “And you may call me Annette. I visited here once ten years ago. We met as children.”

  “Hmm. I don’t seem to remember … ,”

  “I was the girl that fell from the tree,” I said, smiling.

  She laughed. “Oh, yes! How droll you are!” I noticed that her eyes were warm and friendly just like her mother’s and were the color of burnt honey. She turned and looped her arm through Miss Lyons’s arm again, and pulled her forward. “Grandmother, Annette, this is my dearest friend, Miss Charlotte Lyons.”

  Miss Lyons dropped an elegant nod. “A pleasure,” she said, her voice as milky smooth as her skin. When she raised her head, I was met by her icy blue eyes and a close-lipped smile. “How long have you been staying here?” It was a simple question, but her eyes betrayed deep interest. I wondered why.

  “Nearly a fortnight.”

  Her lips still held their smile, but her eyes flashed with surprise. “Mmm … how delightful.”

  She turned toward Grandmother and greeted her with a bit more enthusiasm, and I watched, feeling that knife of inferiority digging deeper into my skin. Her posture didn’t slouch for even a second, and her voice was steady, smooth, and convincing. And when she laughed, it wasn’t shrill and cutting like her mother’s. It was soft and tinkling like a bell.

  She clasped her hands together in front of her and looked from side to side, then beckoned Alice forward with a look. “Where are the others?” she questioned, raising a delicate eyebrow.

  She asked the question with no particular address, and for some reason, I felt inclined to answer. “Mrs. Kellaway will be with us in a moment, Mr. Everard is in the library, I believe, my brothers are in their room, and Ow—er—Dr. Kellaway is away for the time being.” I watched with suppressed amusement as the smile fell from Miss Lyons’s lips.

  She jerked her gaze to Alice, who raised her own eyebrow. “Where is he?” she asked, looking at her grandmother.

  “He is away at an estate … one that he has not visited for a long while.” Grandmother said, throwing her a look full of hints. Apparently Alice understood, because her face lifted with disbelief and delight at once.

  “When did he leave?” The disbelief was displayed in her voice.

  “Late last night.”

  Alice’s jaw dropped and she exhaled sharply. She shook her head. “I just cannot comprehend it!” She smiled, looked heavenward, and closed her eyes, as if absorbing everything she had just heard. “I never would have expected that. At least not until … ,” Her voice trailed off, and she looked at Miss Lyons with raised brows. Then they both erupted into tinkling laughter. I thought it must have been that secret joke again.

  Miss Lyons’s face turned wistful with longing. “I am very anxious to see him. Will he return soon?”

  The look on her face and the tone of her voice gave me a strong urge to roll my eyes.

  Grandmother scowled briefly, then tipped her head to the side and flashed a smile. “No. We haven’t any idea when he will be returning. It could be as much as a fortnight.” Her brow contracted. “Or was it a month?”

  Miss Lyons and Alice shared a dismayed look. Grandmother shrugged, and I could see a little grin breaking through her act. “Why so distraught, dears?”

  Miss Lyons smoothed a perfect hand over her hair. She cleared her throat. Even that sounded elegant. “Oh, I am grand, do not worry. I have only missed him terribly, and hoped to see him sooner than that.” She released a dramatic sigh that would put Lizzie to shame.

  Grandmother shook her head slowly, as if deeply upset. “I am sorry to hear that.” She placed a hand lightly on my shoulder, and gave me a look of long-suffering. I caught a twinkle in her eyes before she turned her head back to Miss Lyons. I was sure it was a mischievous one. It terrified me.

  “Because,” she said with wide eyes, “if you are expecting an offer of marriage, you must know that Owen has already offered for Miss Annette, here.”

  A

  Chapter 15

  Afierce wave of shock rolled through my stomach. I jerked my head to Grandmother. She was grinning at me, and gave me a quick nod, as if encouraging me to play along with her ridiculous charade. I was completely dumbfounded. What was the matter with her? She was clearly losing her mind. I was sure of it now. I remembered how she had been present in the morning room for tea the day before, when Lady Pembury had spoken of Owen’s attachment to her daughter.

  When I moved my gaze to the two elegant ladies in front of me, I saw Alice staring at me with round eyes and a hand over her mouth. Miss Lyons watched me with downturned brows and compressed lips. And a challenge.

  “I—um … ,” I struggled for words that would deny what Grandmother had said, but I was hopelessly mute, and could not think clearly for my life.

  “She is very sorry for the misunderstanding,” Grandmother inserted with quick precision. “She has a thing … a bit of memory loss. Bless her.” She turned her gaze to me and placed her other hand on my other shoulder. “Remember? Owen offered for you and you accepted nearly a week ago?”

  I was completely appalled. I was certain that Grandmother was the only one struggling with memory loss. She winked. I scowled with a look that said have you lost your mind?

  Apparently she had. “Oh, yes, of course you remember!” She patted my cheek, then grasped my arm and pulled me away, while yelling over her shoulder, “We are going to fetch your mother, Alice!”

  I tried to wrench my arm free, but was again completely surprised by how strong Grandmother
was. And perhaps I was weakened by the shock of what had just happened.

  She let go of my arm once we were out of earshot. I found myself able to speak again, and in a voice just above a whisper, said, “I am not engaged to Owen!”

  “Yes, yes, I know that.” She waved a hand in the air as if swatting unseen flies.

  I jerked back. “Then why—”

  “Because,” she interrupted, “I thoroughly despise Georgiana Lyons, that is why.” A little hoot escaped her pursed lips. “You must play along. Please.”

  I was still confused. “What does your dislike of Lady Pembury have to do with me being … ,” I lowered my voice, “‘engaged to Owen’?”

  Grandmother huffed then looked at me as if I was the most daft person in the world. “If we can convince Miss Lyons that you are engaged to Owen, then she will surely leave immediately, and her mother may not have the satisfaction of having a daughter married to one of the wealthiest men in town.”

  I was now even more confused. “Owen is a doctor!” I reminded her, my voice leaping above my strained whisper. “He is not wealthy. His elder brother will inherit everything.”

  She sighed, and after a prolonged moment of silence, said, “I should not be telling you this, but I believe you should know if you are going to go along with my plan.”

  I scowled. “But I—”

  Grandmother raised a hand to stop my words. I folded my arms, trying to hold my anger inside. “Owen had a cousin,” she said. “Theodore. They were the dearest of friends. Did Owen tell you about him?”

  I nodded.

  “He passed away, as you must already know, and Owen stopped returning to Willowbourne. Well, Owen’s uncle, master of Willowbourne, has passed away recently. It was a terrible shock. But with no other sons, who do you suppose he left his living to in his will?”

 

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