“Perhaps my own behavior is still in need of improvement,” he said with a sigh. “I’m sorry to have given you such a poor firstimpression of my character. I will do all I can to change your mind.”
Oh.
His sincere eyes gazed into mine, completely disarming my attack. Was he referring to his first impression ten years ago, or his first impression today? That was a very important distinction.
Owen handed me one of his biscuits. “Would you like one?”
At his offer I realized that I hadn’t eaten anything since our midday stop. They did look delicious. I was about to accept, but then my stomach growled loudly in its own response.
Owen’s eyes widened in a mixture of surprise and amusement. “That is answer enough.”
My face burned, an embarrassed laugh slipping past my lips.
“I’ve finally earned a laugh,” he said with a victorious look.
I wiped the smile from my face. “Do not congratulate yourself. We Downings laugh very easily.” I raised my eyebrows at Peter and Charles, who were laughing in affirmation of my words. They had already finished their biscuits, so I looked again to Owen. I was surprised to see him staring at me, a thoughtful look behind his eyes. Why did he always do that? I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, eager to escape it.
I took a bite of my almond biscuit, wiping a stray crumb from my lower lip as I stared at the floor. “Well. I suppose we are finished here. Thank you for your help.”
I glanced up. The intensity of Owen’s eyes had softened. “I have only one more question.”
“What?”
His amused smile returned. “Why are you still covered in vomit?”
My gaze shot down to my dress and I laughed, realizing to my dismay that I still hadn’t changed. Owen laughed too, and I noticed just how much I liked the sound. His laugh was lowand rather contagious. Peter laughed alongside him, watching his every move. It seemed that Owen had already influenced the boys without even trying.
I still didn’t trust that he would transform their behavior in such a short time, but did I have any choice but to try?
CHAPTER 7
Istood in front of the mirror in my room, smoothing my hands over the clean blue gown I now wore. In comparison to Mrs. Kellaway’s dress, it looked dull and plain. My hair was falling from its knot. My face still looked like a boiled radish, though a little less red than before.
I walked closer to the mirror, plucked the pins from my hair, and ran my fingers through it. I pulled all my hair up to the crown of my head, my arms aching as I pinned down a few locks. When I released my grip, most of the hair fell back down to my shoulders. I gave a frustrated sigh, tugging the pins loose again. A knock sounded at the door, pulling my attention from my task.
“Yes?” I turned toward the doorway.
I saw Lizzie’s reflection as she walked through the door. She froze, her jaw dropping to her collar. “Miss—what are you doing?”
My hands stopped. “Making myself presentable for dinner.”
She shook her head in a fluster. “Please excuse me, I’ll return shortly.” She turned and bustled from the room, letting the door swing shut behind her.
I scowled at my reflection. What was that about? I shrugged and pulled hard on my hair, loosening a thick tangle.
When Lizzie burst through the door again, she held a hairbrush and a box of other items that looked like decorative pins and cosmetics. “You mustn’t allow Mrs. Kellaway to see you arranging your own hair. ‘Tisn’t proper, miss.”
I met her gaze in the mirror. I was still unaccustomed to having my own maid. “I do it every day.”
“This is Kellaway Manor.” Lizzie pulled up a chair up behind me and pressed softly on my shoulders for me to sit down. “Old habits must be done away with.” Her eyes traced over me. “This gown is too plain for dinner.”
“This is my finest gown.”
She blinked. “Well, then, I will have to make your hair breathtaking enough to outshine it.”
A smile tugged on my lips. “Very well.” I had worn my usual chignon for years. It was orderly and neat and kept my eyes clear enough to keep careful watch of my brothers. I wasn’t certain what difference a more intricate arrangement could make in elevating my appearance, but I was willing to allow Lizzie to try.
She set to work brushing through my hair. She froze, lifting the brush from my head. “We must turn your chair around.”
