Owen sighed. “That was my mistake. I was told only to rush to the drawing room to help ‘an ill boy.’ I made a poor assumption.”
I eyed him carefully. His ‘poor assumption’ was further evidence that I would fail miserably in London, and that Mr. Frampton truly was my only hope. I did not have the appearance of an elegant lady. I had the appearance of a girl who chased mischievous children around all day. That was far more accurate anyway.
Owen stood, moving in front of me at the settee. “My name is Dr. Kellaway. You, however, might remember me best by myChristian name, Owen.” He seemed to be searching my face for clues.
I put on a confused expression. “Remember you? I don’t believe we have met, doctor.”
His head tipped to one side. 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 who fell from the tree. He would find out who I was eventually, but for the moment, I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. First he had mistook me as a nursemaid, then he had proceeded to terrorize me with that glass of water. I could justify a little retaliation.
“What is your name?” he asked.
“Miss Millicent 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 as he reclaimed his seat. “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, MissDurbin.”
I crossed my arms and maintained my cool demeanor.
Charles reached out a finger and tapped Owen on the shoulder. “Doctor Kelly-fay, 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 Millicent,” he said before snorting into giggles.
Now both Owen’s eyebrows were raised. “Hmm. How interesting.”
My face was hot under his gaze.
“I didn’t think you looked like a Millicent.”
I scolded myself for noticing how his smile moved him from ordinarily to absurdly handsome.
“Do you wish to disclose to me your actual name?” he asked.
“No, thank you.” I smoothed my hands over my gown, noticing the vomit that still stained the lower part of my skirts.
“You do seem much too old to be playing pretend,” he said.
I glanced up sharply. “You do seem much too old to be pestering a woman you only just met. Regardless of your assumption that I was a nursemaid, you should not have taunted me with that glass of water. I take the safety of my brothers very seriously.”
He looked down. “As you should, and I do apologize. But why do you refuse to tell me your name?”
I shrugged one shoulder, shifting my gaze to Charles who was looking much improved, observing the interaction with a dimpled grin and wide eyes.
“You cannot conceal it from me forever,” Owen said.
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, as if giving up for the moment, and turned his attention to my brothers. “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.”
