Mrs. Kellaway laughed. “What ever do you mean?”
I saw a hint of impatience in Lady Pembury’s eyes, and in the way she pinched her lips together and clicked her fingernails. She smiled like she knew a secret. “During her last season, Charlotte was led to believe that she and your son shared an attachment. She has sufficient evidence to suggest her feelings are returned.”
Mrs. Kellaway’s brow lifted in surprise. “Edmund?”
Lady Pembury’s smile was making a slow creep upward until she looked like a cat before a wounded bird. But she wasn’t planning to pounce yet; I could tell by the way she sneaked around the subject with careful ease. “No, your second son. Owen.”
The other ladies at the table whispered at that, and I saw Mrs. Everard’s eyes widen. My heart was twisting with so many emotions that I nearly dropped my cup. An intense burning had filled me, consumed me, and brought me to the will of this clever, disdainful woman. I tried to appear nonchalant when I noticed the satisfied smile on her lips, aimed at me.
Mrs. Kellaway choked on her lemonade, then set it down, her eyes lit up with sudden interest. “Owen? How can you be certain?”
“Seeing them dance together in London was testimony enough.” She glanced in my direction again.
Did she suspect that I was here trying to secure Owen? Her catlike features held every sign of suspicion. She lowered her voice and leaned toward Mrs. Kellaway, as if the words were meant only for her ears, but I heard them perfectly.
“With Charlotte coming to visit tomorrow, I daresay we have an engagement on the horizon.”
Mrs. Kellaway looked stunned, but she quickly replaced the expression with a polite smile. “Owen hasn’t mentioned anything of this to me. But I suppose it will all play out in the coming weeks.”
Lady Pembury nodded in understanding. “He has not mentioned it because Charlotte asked him to keep it a secret until she had made her decision, as she now has.”
Mrs. Kellaway frowned. “I see.”
My heart was thumping so hard I could hear the blood rushing in my ears. My hand shook as I sipped my lemonade. Why did I feel unable to sit in this chair any longer withoutbursting to pieces? I tried to remain as normal as possible, but the feeling in my heart and in the pit of my stomach was not normal at all.
Mrs. Kellaway was silent for a long moment. “I suppose I should tell Owen that Charlotte is coming to visit. I didn’t know that information might be so impactful.”
Lady Pembury nodded. “Oh, yes. I’m certain he would like to know.”
From the deliberate glance Lady Pembury cast my way, and from the glow of accomplishment and satisfaction in her deep green eyes, I realized with a start that I was the wounded bird, and she had just somehow caught me.
While the conversation turned to fashion and lace and collars with “inexpressibly precise Vandyke points,” I sat restlessly, sipping my lemonade, and trying to puzzle out why I was feeling so distraught. Owen was only a friend! Why should it matter that he had a previous attachment to someone I have never even met? It didn’t matter. So why did I feel like something within me was being torn slowly apart? Why did I feel so deceived and upset?
My heart pounded as I realized how very wrong I had been to learn so much of Owen, to come so close to him. I had broken my promise not to take him seriously, and I had let him steal some of my heart. If not the whole entire thing.
I sipped my lemonade again, and again, but it did nothing to steady me. In fact, I was convinced that the lemonade was a poison making me weaker and weaker with each drink. I set down the cup, closed my ears from the talk of lace, and attempted to close my eyes from the sight of Lady Pembury and her wicked, stealthy claws. But most of all, I tried my best to close my heart from everything else.
It wasn’t as if Owen had ever been an ‘option’ available to me in the first place. I had reminded myself of that many times. Ishould have been happy to hear that he would soon be reuinited with thisCharlotte.
I should be happy for myfriend.
Charlotte was probably a very elegant, proper lady who knew how to navigate London and its world of competition. She knew how to flirt with Owen and win him over. A surge of anger pierced my heart. If Owen was already attached to someone, then why would he have nearly kissed me the night before? Did he think I was the sort of woman to take romance lightly?
A twist of betrayal made my lemonade taste bitter. He had told me not to underestimate him, but now a deep fear settled in my stomach. Had I done the opposite?
When the conversation finally died off, and Lady Pembury went to the tent to get more pastries, I stood as quickly as I could. “Please excuse me.”
As fast as my trembling legs could carry me, I walked all the way to the other side of the tent where I could be hidden from view. I needed a brief moment to myself before throwing myself back into the party.
My gaze settled on the flickering rays of sunshine on the grass. I wished I could somehow grab hold of one and implant it inside of me so I could recover the warm, peaceful feeling I had enjoyed for such a short time. Tomorrow, everything would change. Alice and Charlotte would be arriving. There would be no more lessons for my brothers, no more stolen moments with Owen. It was all over.
I took a deep breath, trying to count the emotions that battled within me. It was ridiculous to feel so jealous, because I too had a potential engagement on the horizon. I shouldn’t have cared, but here I was, caring far too much.
I peeked around the side of the tent. I saw Owen standing near the rose garden. Watching him now, easily mingling and charming the people in his circle, it was clear that I was not onhis level. Hadn’t I learned not to dwell on things that were too good to be true? Lifetookthings from me, it always had. It didn’t give me things I dreamed of. Why should it start now?
Owen was a flirt, and I had known it all along. I shouldn’t be surprised to hear that he had much more suitable options. With a composing breath, I pulled my shoulders back and stepped out from my hiding place.
Fortunately, I did too.
