Owen and I were laughing so hard at this point that I could hardly get the words out. “That’s enough, boys.”
Charles cast Peter one last scowl before I began reading. When their argument interrupted the story again, Owen offered Charles a place on his other knee. And then Owen took the book and read for a while.
Peter and Charles both nestled their heads against him, listening to his animated voices and expressions.
The warmth in the room made me drowsy, but I couldn’t look away. The rain pattered in the background of Owen’s voice. A sense of peace enveloped my body, nearly bringing tears to my eyes. It was shocking. Still, I clung to the sensation, desperate to keep it for as long as I could.
I had never expected to find a balm for the wounds in my heart, but as I stared at Owen with my brothers, I had thefleeting thought that if I could freeze time in that moment, I might never hurt again.
CHAPTER 17
Itook Peter and Charles outside the following day to meet Owen for his next lesson. After he had left the library the day before, I hadn’t seen him all afternoon. But when he did join us for dinner, he told us to meet him here.
It worried me, after his first lesson, that I would be a major key to another ‘demonstration,’ but thankfully, when we arrived, I noticed archery targets set up across the lawn. The only way I could imagine being used in a demonstration would beasa target. Even that was extreme for Owen, so I allowed myself a sigh of relief. Shooting arrows seemed an entertaining way to spend the morning. Anything was better than embroideringleaves that looked like toeswith Mrs. Everard.
Archery was an activity that most young boys enjoyed, and one that my brothers had been deprived of. Perhaps not all of Owen’s lessons would be based on their behavior, but would instead give them opportunities they had been missing. Spending time observing a gentleman could be the only thing capable of inspiring a change in them. Scoldings or verbal instruction only went so far.
Owen greeted us with a wave. I was grateful that he was back in a cheerful mood again. My brothers ran to him first, as usual, and I watched them from a distance.
Owen lifted Charles, who laughed uncontrollably as Owen threw him in the air and caught him. Peter was larger than his younger brother, but Owen didn’t leave him out. Peter had his turn being thrown in the air. Owen’s jacket strained against the muscle in his arms and shoulders.
I should not have been staring so unabashedly, but the entire scene had my knees rather weak. A light breeze cooled my skin as I finally made my way toward them.
Owen looked up at my approach. Charles tugged on his jacket, eager for more attention.
“Do you know how to shoot?” Owen asked me.
“Unfortunately, no.”
“Then you must allow me to teach you.” He gave me a persuasive smile. “I am an excellent instructor.”
“And I am an excellent student,” I said, lifting my chin.
He took a step toward me and handed me a bow. “Would you like to go first?”
“Well…” I paused, studying the bow I now held. I had no idea how to use it. “Perhaps you should demonstrate first. I should like to know if my instructor is well-qualified or not.”
He laughed. “Is that a challenge?”
I shrugged, casting him a faint smile.
His eyes narrowed, and my smile grew to a ridiculous size. I enjoyed having the upper hand for a brief moment. For once, I was not the one with something to prove.
He stood across from one of the targets and removed his jacket. He tossed it to the ground with a brief grin in my direction. He rolled up his shirtsleeves to his elbows and turned his attention to the target. The look suited him. With his tousledhair, he looked rugged and casual, handsome without even trying at all.
He raised his bow, aimed, and released the arrow. It hit the target just an inch from the center. He turned toward me with a winning smile.
I raised my brows. “Am I meant to be impressed by that? You missed.”
He leveled me with his gaze. “I didn’t miss.”
“You missed the center. That is the object of the game, is it not?”
He bit his lip, shaking his head. “You hold me to a high standard.”
I watched with amusement as he readied another arrow. Determination flashed in his eyes. He shot three more times, and the last arrow finally struck the mark. He turned to me for approval. “Are you satisfied?”
Perhaps I should have teased him a little longer, but he was striding toward me with a determined look in his eyes. I took a step back, surprised by the way my heart leaped.
