“I’ll leave the matter in your hands then,” Mrs. Kellaway said. “It is imperative that you succeed.” She turned to leave the room, but stopped to speak one last time. “Dinner will be in two hours, so keep that in mind when giving food to the boys. Soon the servants will need to resume preparations.”
I watched helplessly as the door swung closed behind her.
Owen’s voice prickled over my spine. “Come now, Annette. I thought you were the one who insisted that we do this together.”
I froze. His mother had given away my Christian name, and now he thought he could address me so improperly? I turned around. “Call me Miss Downing. And before we fetch any food for my brothers, I want to know how you plan to help improve their behavior when yours is…questionable.”
He frowned. “Questionable?”
I shrugged. “I should like to know if you are qualified to be their instructor or not.”
Owen leaned against the table and folded his arms. “I plan to keep them on two very short leashes and bring them with me everywhere I go. My constant presence will turn them into perfect angels.”
Could he ever be serious? I walked over and stood behind my brothers, casting Owen an exasperated look. “In that case, I will speak with your mother about dismissing you from your duty.”
He chuckled. “What is wrong with leashes?”
I considered his wry grin. “They are not dogs.”
“Have you tried it before?”
“No. I am not that barbaric.”
He laughed before finally responding seriously. “Why is their behavior in such desperate need of improvement? Most young boys have an impish side. I don’t think there is a way to banish it completely.”
I took a deep breath. “Our guardian—our aunt—requires that they become well-behaved before we return home.”
Owen watched me carefully. “Was that her purpose in sending you here?”
“Yes.”
He appeared to be deep in thought, but didn’t pry any further. Instead he asked, “How are their dinner manners?”
“In need of improvement.”
My brothers exchanged a grin.
“Then we can begin tonight at dinner,” Owen said in a nonchalant voice. Before I could speak again, he returned his attention to my brothers. “What are you hungry for?” He turned to rummage in the cupboard behind him. “Bread, pears, oranges, and oh . . .” he grinned slyly, “almond biscuits.”
“Yes!” they exclaimed in unison.
“I thought so.” Owen grabbed the jar of biscuits. He looked at me expectantly with that teasing glint in his eye. “You said you wanted to help me.”
I walked over and snatched the jar from him. “I’m surprised that you cannot open a jar without assistance,” I said, unlatching the top.
“Why are you surprised?” he asked in a flirtatious voice. He folded his arms, as if to draw attention to them.
“Because you are a grown man.” I pulled two biscuits from inside the jar, handing them to Peter and Charles. “Although I could be convinced otherwise.”
Owen’s eyes widened, but he looked more amused than insulted. “I see I have already done something to earn your dislike.”
I gave him a passive glance. Perhaps I was being too harsh. “I would not call it dislike.”
He took a step toward me, reaching inside the jar I held. “What would you call it then?” He withdrew a two biscuits, taking a bite of one.
“Caution.” I met his gaze. “I’m not certain I want my brothers to learn from you.”
His brow twitched. For a moment, guilt poked at my heart. Had I truly offended him this time?
