How did Mrs. Kellaway truly feel about us staying here? What did she think of Peter and Charles’s awful behavior? Would they ever learn to be well behaved? And one question, that repeated itself over and over: what was it about Owen that made me feel so…defensive?
He was very unlike Mr. Frampton. The two could not be more opposite. Mr. Frampton was gentle, reserved, and serious. When he had complimented me, I had accepted it graciously. Perhaps it was his older age, or perhaps it was because his voice had lacked the flirtatious tone that Owen’s had.
I had little experience detecting flirting, though, so I might have been mistaken. At any rate, if Owen was flirting, it would be ridiculous to think that it was genuine. He had mistook me for a nursemaid when he had first seen me. Surely in his eyes I was nothing more than a poor, unfortunate girl who deserved his family’s sympathy.
His efforts to help my brothers had potential though, so I couldn’t ignore him the entire visit.
I would simply have to promise myself that I would never take him seriously.
CHAPTER 9
The sun was already shining bright through my window when I awoke. I flew out of bed the moment I saw it. How long had I slept? Clearly much longer than I had planned. I had wanted to start the day early, to be able to explore the home and grounds at my own leisure. I groaned. That was no longer a possibility.
I tugged the bell pull, calling Lizzie to come help with my hair and dress. I needed to look as elegant as possible. It was the least I could do to try to redeem myself from yesterday.
The moment she left, I stepped closer to the mirror, examining the delicate twists of my hair. It was fascinating how Lizzie could make it look so lovely in a matter of minutes. I wore a plain, pastel yellow dress without a single thread of embroidery or strand of ribbon. I had never cared if my dresses were boring before, but I was certain this would look like a potato sack beside Mrs. Kellaway’s fine gown.
I held up my arm to the mirror for closer inspection. Just above my elbow, where Aunt Ruth had gripped so tightly the other day, was a fresh purple bruise.
“Drat,” I muttered. I didn’t have gloves long enough to hide it, nor had I brought any dresses with long sleeves. Praying thatthe bruise would go unnoticed, I raced down the hall to Peter and Charles’s bedchamber.
I threw open the door and found two empty, neatly made beds. Where could they be now? The first explanation that came to mind was that they were at breakfast. However, noting their behavior the day before, they could be anywhere, doinganything.
Lizzie had told me where to find the breakfast room, so I hurried down the stairs and stopped outside the door, leaning my ear against it. Mr. Everard’s soft voice was mingled with familiar giggles. My muscles relaxed.
Easing the door open, I stepped inside, finding the Everards and my brothers all seated at the table. I leaned against the doorframe in relief.
Mrs. Everard looked up from her plate. “Oh, Miss Downing! Have a seat!” she exclaimed around a mouthful of food. “I trust you slept well?”
I walked around the table and took a chair beside Peter. “Too well, I think.” I gave an apologetic smile. “I hope my brothers haven’t been any trouble.”
Mrs. Everard threw out her hand. “It is no matter, my dear, you had a very eventful day yesterday. You mustn’t forget that my daughter assigned a maid to see to their needs. She drew their baths this morning, helped them with their clothes, and brought them downstairs.”
My eyes rounded. I glanced at my brothers. They both wore clean clothes, and their hair was combed neater than I had ever seen. How had so much occurred while I was still sleeping?
“How efficient,” I said with a laugh. Peter and Charles didn’t seem troubled in the slightest with the new arrangement. I would have to ask them privately if they approved of their new maid. “Where are the others?”
“You have just missed them,” Mrs. Everard said. “They were here at breakfast only minutes ago.”
“Oh.” I felt a small pinch of disappointment. I had planned on asking Mrs. Kellaway for a tour of the house. I looked to my brothers. “And how did you sleep?”
Their faces lit up and they both began rambling on at once. “The beds were so comfortable!” Peter exclaimed.
“And so very bouncy,” Charles added.
“The soap in the bath smelled like lemons.”
I walked closer, taking a deep breath near Peter’s hair. “Yousmell like lemons.”
He laughed, taking a sloppy bite of his eggs. At least he was using his fork.
Mr. Everard gave a deep laugh. “Why don’t you boys come read with us in the library?” he suggested. “If your sister approves.”
I eyed my brothers carefully. They had behaved horribly the day before, so it could be foolish to let them out of my sight again. However, the Everardsdidseem trustworthy enough…and they had proven their kindness. Even so, I had no doubt that they were both capable of delivering a good scolding if necessary.
I nodded. “Yes, of course. I was actually planning on exploring the house a bit myself.”
Mrs. Everard grinned. “Perfect. We would be more than delighted to take them off your hands anytime. They areso darling. My grandchildren are all far too old now to sit on my knee to read a storybook. I miss those days terribly.”
