Mrs. Everard grinned. “Oh, yes. He is a handsome gentleman if I ever saw one, and so very agreeable. He would be quite smitten by Miss Downing, I imagine.” She rubbed her hands together with a sly smile. “Unless, of course, Mr. Abney takes equal interest. His mother told me he is in serious pursuit of a wife, and he will be attending the party as well.”
For some reason, Mrs. Kellaway cast a glance in Owen’s direction. She cleared her throat. “Yes, I suppose we might also introduce him to Annette.”
“Mr. Fields will be there,” Mrs. Everard added. “He is a bit grey, but could still be a suitable option.”
“It is always good to have options,” Mrs. Kellaway said with a nod.
Mrs. Everard grinned. “As many as possible, if you ask me.”
My stomach lurched with a sudden surge of panic, but then I remembered that I hadn’t yet given Mr. Frampton my final answer. It would be wise to meet other gentlemen while I had the chance. Perhaps one of them would take an interest in me. It seemed unlikely, but so had Mr. Frampton’s proposal.
Mrs. Kellaway must have noticed my worried expression. She laughed, casting me a sympathetic smile. “We don’t mean to frighten you, Annette, but we do want what is best for you. You must allow us to do a little matchmaking while you are here.”
I looked down at my hands, my cheeks growing hot. “I have very little experience with courtship, but I am willing to learn.”
“That is no matter. If the opportunity arises, we will guide you through it.”
“Oh, I’m certain she will have more than one opportunity,” Mrs. Everard said with wide eyes. “We will soon have all the gentlemen in town dueling for the chance to court you.”
I forced a small laugh. “That is highly unlikely.”
Mrs. Everard gave me a sneaky look and glanced across the room. “It seems we already have one gentleman prepared for that very duel.”
I followed her gaze to Owen. His features were hard, not a hint of a smile on his face as he listened to his grandmother’s predictions.
“Will it be swords or pistols, Owen?” Mrs. Everard asked. “You could, of course, resort to fisticuffs if you wish to spare a few lives.” She could barely be understood through her laughter. I had seen her drink several glasses of brandy before dinner, and the evidence was becoming clearer by the minute.
Owen shook his head, half his mouth lifting in a weak smile. “I have no doubt that Annette will be widely admired anywhere she goes.” He caught my gaze before looking down at the rug. His jaw tightened.
I looked down at my hands, the tingling heat on my cheeks spreading down my neck. Would Owen care if I received attention from other gentlemen? My heart pounded as I contemplated the possibility. He didn’t seem amused in the slightest by his grandmother’s plans. In fact, he seemed…frustrated.
Mrs. Everard was still hooting, but the rest of the room was filled with an awkwardness that was so centered around me that I needed to leave. Now. As much as I tried to prevent it, my voice came out shaky. “Peter, Charles, it’s time for bed.”
I stood from my chair a little too abruptly, waving my brothers forward. I flashed a smile in no particular direction. “Please excuse us.”
Against my will, I peeked at Owen again just as I was leaving the room. The look on his face was familiar. My gaze froze on that look until I placed it: It was the same way he had looked at me in the water gardens today after he caught me—when I had thought about kissing him. I hurried through the door, shaking my head in an effort to clear it.I must be imagining things now.
My feelings for Owen were complicated, and I couldn’t begin to understand them. He made me nervous, I knew that. He made me angry. He made me smile and laugh. He made me feel understood in a way I hadn’t before. It was dizzying to think about all the things he made me feel. All the emotions collided together in the middle of my heart, creating a cloud of thick smoke. I couldn’t see through it, no matter how much I tried.
Perhaps it was best that Ididn’ttry.
My head spun as I tucked my brothers into their beds and hurried down the hall to my own room. I couldn’t mistake that I had seen a strong emotion in Owen’s eyes, but I also couldn’t jump to conclusions as to what it was. He might have been feeling protective over me, or upset at the thought of having less time to spend with me as his friend. There was no need toguess at anything else. I was too sensible to live inside a dream…to entertain thoughts of any man taking an interest in me. Especially Owen. That thought was the most dangerous of all.
I had come to Kellaway Manor to escape Mr. Frampton temporarily, not forever. The moment I allowed myself a drop of hope that there was another future for me, I would be disappointed. I should feel very fortunate that Mr. Frampton had offered for me at all. Hope was a nuissance. It would ruin me if I allowed it.
I couldn’t think clearly any longer. The dull pain in my head had now buzzed into a full, throbbing headache, and I was afraid my skull would burst from an overdose of thought. So I settled into my nightdress, blew out the candles, and drifted into a restless sleep.
The next morning, the sky looked very likely to rain, stirring black and gray clouds. Owen had planned another lesson for the boys outside, but the weather wouldn’t allow it. I took my brothers to the library instead, surprised to find it empty. The Everards weren’t in their usual chairs.
After finding a few children’s books to occupy Peter and Charles, I sat down at the table with a book of my own. It had been a relief to not see Owen at breakfast. After witnessing my rush out of the drawing room the night before, he would know how uncomfortable I had felt. He would likely tease me for it.
I tried to focus on my book, but I couldn’t seem to concentrate. The raindrops on the window made me wish I was in the orangery instead, watching them fall on the glass above me. I felt a tug on my heart as I recalled how Owen had triedto save the oranges for me. I smiled, watching the raindrops roll down the window.
Lost in thought as I was, I didn’t hear the library door open. Peter and Charles jumped to their feet, running to the door.
Owen stood there, cravat tied loosely, a broad smile on his face as he greeted my brothers. He looked up at me. His eyes matched his waistcoat. My heart hammered, and I scolded it for doing so. Did he know I had just been thinking about him?
“I’m glad you decided not to meet me out in the rain.” He nodded toward the window. “We’ll have to plan the second lesson for another day.”
