“Few people have heard it,” I said.
He stared at me in silence for a long moment. “Well, I’m very honored to be among them.” The dimple was back, and it was paired much too perfectly with the warm, admiring look on his face. I dropped my gaze to the grass. I didn’t know how to respond.
His voice recalled my eyes, carrying a much lighter tone. “I was just on my way to stables. Would you like me to give you a tour of the estate?”
I shook my head with a dismissive wave. “I don’t wish to rob you of your time any longer.”
“It would be my pleasure. Please.” His persuasive smile made the offer nearly impossible to refuse. I had planned on asking Mrs. Kellaway, but Owen was here, and hehadoffered.
“Very well,” I said. “But I can’t be away too long.”
Owen gave a swift nod. “Of course. Would you like to start with the grounds?”
I nodded, sweeping my gaze over the surrounding land. The gardens bled into the distance like vibrant streaks of watercolor, seemingly going on forever as they merged with the treeline. Besides what my eye could see, I knew the Kellaways must have owned miles of land beyond it where their tenants farmed and lived. It was strange how birth order could influence so much. Owen could admire and enjoy it all, but it would never truly be his. His elder brother, Edmund, was the heir. Perhaps that made Owen treasure it all the more.
Kellaway Manor was only a temporary home for him, as it was for me.
Owen beckoned me forward with a smile and a wave of his hand. “Come. We’ll start with the gardens.”
We set off together, snaking our way through stone paths, trellis archways, and neatly manicured topiary. Flowers of all varieties were in bloom, organized into separate gardens. The scent of basil dominated the herb garden, and when we walked along the stream by the woods, I could smell the endless blooms of wild garlic growing along the bank. My favorite was the rose garden. We stopped in front of a tall bush adorned with miniature white roses. They looked like little flakes of snow.
Its neighboring bush, covered with soft pink roses, caught my eye more than once. I quickly banished the admiration. Thorns pricked my heart at the sight of the pink velvet petals. Alarms rose inside my head, and thick walls burst up to protect the memories that threatened to barge through.
Owen reached forward and broke off a pink rose. “For you.” He smiled knowingly. “I noticed you admiring them.”
“Oh, um . . .” Part of me wanted to accept it, to put it in my hair just as I always used to do. It was beautiful. The gentleness of it, the way the sun illuminated its most attractive hues…
I quickly stopped myself. “It must have been the white roses you saw me admiring.”
He held up the rose in his hand, glancing at it from different angles. “Are you not fond of this color?”
“No, I’m not.” Remembering my manners, I added, “But thank you.”
He chuckled. “Don’t thank me for a rose you find unsightly. Would you like a white one instead?”
“That would be much better.”
As he reached down to pluck off a rose near the base of the bush, a movement caught my attention from the right. I turnedmy head and looked twice. A robust, angry woman was marching swiftly across the grass.
I was stunned by the resemblance she bore to an animal I had read about. I believe it was called an elephant. By the way she bounded with heavy footfalls, and carried herself with such powerful authority, it seemed to me that she was the very personification of one. She seemed intent to trample everything in her path.
I jerked my gaze to Owen. I was surprised to see that he was watching her approach with a calm, if not amused, expression.
“Owen Kellaway, don’t you dare take a rose!” The woman yelled, wagging a finger. “How many times must I tell you?” Her face was ruddy, her voice shaking with rage.
Owen turned his head around to flash me a mischievous smile.
I knew mischievous smiles better than most, so from his I knew that he intended to pick the rose anyway. He grasped it by its stem and pulled up sharply, releasing it from the bush. Then he stood up straight, wide eyes brimming with laughter. “Run!”
CHAPTER 10
Owen grasped my hand and we took off, racing across the grass. The wind flew at my face, muffling my laughter. I glanced back at the woman, holding my bonnet against my head with my free hand. She was advancing with great haste, pumping her arms far too high to look natural.
I had no idea where we were going, but Owen seemed to have a plan. We reached the stables and Owen pulled me inside an empty stall, latching the door behind us. Two grooms, busy feeding the horses, glanced up at our entrance. Owen held a finger to his lips. The grooms seemed to understand the request, returning to their work as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.
At present, we were too tall to be concealed by the stall door, so Owen motioned for me to crouch beside him. I stifled my laughter, struggling to keep my breathing quiet after the thrill of our narrow escape from that frightening woman. The air in the stables carried an unpleasant scent, yet I had no choice but to gulp in as much air as I could as I caught my breath.
“Who was that?” I hissed as quietly as I could.
