My heart fell. I felt suddenly adrift and broken. I had been thinking selfishly again. My brothers were going to have to leave without saying goodbye to Owen. I didn’t want to imagine how that would fragment their tiny hearts. They had grown too close to him. My heart thumped loudly as I remembered that I had too.
CHAPTER 27
When evening arrived, and everyone gathered in the drawing room, Mrs. Everard dropped her piece of embroidery in her lap and proclaimed, “I miss my dear grandson. He must return soon or I shall topple over in this chair and die. Right here on the floor.”
“Mother!” Mrs. Kellaway exclaimed.
“And what about poor Annette? She must be out of her wits without him here.” Murmured agreements and light laughter followed.
I wanted to steal her needle and use it to embroider her mouth closed. But instead I just blinked and stared, numb to the mortification.
Owen had been gone for two days, but it hadn’t been enough to drive Miss Lyons away. At dinner, it had become clear that she had turned her attention to Edmund. He, however, seemed far from interested. I gave credit to his intellect for not falling for her obvious efforts to flirt with him.
To everyone but Alice, Miss Lyons seemed about as welcome as the mouse Charles had brought inside our first day here.
I needed a moment alone with Mrs. Everard—to beg her to see sense. There was no longer any purpose for continuing thefake engagement. Surely she must have seen that. I could pack up my things and leave the next morning with my brothers, and then she could tell everyone the truth. I certainly didn’t want to be here when she did.
Somewhere near the end of Mr. Everard’s usual performance, the sound of locks clicking and boots scuffing came from the entry hall. The butler’s voice boomed through the corridor and Owen’s voice followed. My heart dropped.
My mind raced in search of an escape. My brothers still sat beside me, but it was almost time to take them to bed. If I slipped out the door now, I could greet Owen quickly in the corridor and disappear for the rest of the night. My heart pounded so hard it hurt. I already felt warmth rising to my face.
Owen’s voice grew closer, and I realized with a pang of dread that I had run out of time. I was frozen in my chair. Trapped.
Miss Lyons shifted her position on the settee. She smoothed her curls with one hand and pinched her cheeks discreetly with the other, leaving them rosy and perfect.
My stomach tied itself into a heavy knot. Owen’s quick footsteps turned and gained volume, matching the rate of my racing heart. I wiped my palms on my skirts, desperately wishing I could disappear and not have to face him.
I saw a glimpse of his black coat and boots in the doorway, and then his browned butter hair and easy smile. His eyes slid over the room and fell on me, lingering with a weight that snuffed out my breath like a candle wick between wet fingers. He usually smiled when he saw me, but today, he looked cautious—like I might hurt him at any moment.
It had been two day since I had seen him, but so much had happened in his absence that it felt like a lifetime.
Peter and Charles ran to him first, speaking over each other in an attempt to be the first to narrate the past two days. Voicesof greeting filled the air around me, but I didn’t look up. I couldn’t look up.
Owen’s voice came from across the room. “How have I endured an entire month without seeing you, my dearest?”
Was he addressing Miss Lyons?My heart pounded as I slowly lifted my gaze.
“I see you haven’t lost your poor attempts at humor, brother.” Edmund rolled his eyes.
Owen laughed deeply, slapping him on the shoulder. “I see you haven’t learned to appreciate them.”
Edmund grinned. “But I have learned to ignore them.”
I quickly dropped my gaze again, tugging at each fingertip of my gloves.
“Miss Lyons?” A pause. It was Owen’s voice again. He sounded surprised. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
I held my breath.
“Alice invited me,” she said in a demure voice. “It is a pleasure to see you again.”
“Likewise.” He sounded polite, but I couldn’t read anything else from his tone.
A few words passed between Owen and his father, and although I wasn’t looking, I could feel the pressure of many gazes resting on me. I picked up the nearest book I could find and flipped through the pages, pretending that I was deeply interested in Greek mythology, and wishing the floor would swallow me whole.
Miss Lyons’s smooth voice cut through the air in a shard of exaggerated surprise. “Are you not planning to greet Dr. Kellaway?”
So the floor had not swallowed me. Heart galloping, I put the book down and slowly raised my head, desperately hoping that I was not theyouMiss Lyons spoke of.
