Peter withdrew a folded piece of parchment from his pocket and handed it to me in a neat square. He erupted into giggles as I raised an eyebrow in his direction. Charles joined in, stepping backward.
“They wrote it on their own,” Owen said. “I only guided them in the right direction.”
Not sure what to expect, I unfolded the “masterpiece” and read.
Annette, O, Annette
Her hair is the color of the crust of bread
She makes us laugh every day
She tucks us into our little beds
Annette, O, Annette
I resisted the urge to laugh, lifting the paper higher so I couldn’t see Owen’s shaking shoulders.
We are her brothers, atrocious ones
She is our sister and is very kind
Even though she is a lady, she still runs
Annette, O, Annette
My laughter escaped as I finished their poem, and Owen joined immediately. I stepped toward Peter and Charles and threw my arms around them. “That was a wonderful poem! Which one of you is going to be as famous as Shakespeare?”
Peter pointed at himself with a nod. I laughed at Charles’s scowl and pressed my thumbs to each side of his mouth, lifting his frown into a smile. He laughed, pulling his head away.
“I am sure that you willbothbe even greater than Shakespeare.” I tapped my chin. “I do run quite often, don’t I?”
This made them giggle, and I squeezed them tighter. I almost glanced at Owen, to thank him with a smile, or a few short words, but stopped myself. That was not the way to create the needed distance between us. Falling back into our friendship this week would do more harm than good.
“I think Mr. Everard is missing you two,” I said, brushing a stray curl from Charles’s forehead. “I should take you to the library.”
Peter’s giggles halted. “I don’t want to go to the library.”
“I don’t either,” Charles added. “Dr. Kellaway said we could go to the conservlary.”
“Conservatory,” I corrected with a laugh. I caught Owen’s gaze before turning my attention back to my brothers. “But you must think of poor Mr. Everard. He loves telling you stories.”
Charles’s lower lip stuck out. I sighed. Their attachment to Owen was growing far too strong, and I needed to try to distance them from him before they were torn away forever. Charles’s comment about having a papa had not left my mind. I couldn’t have them spending all morning with Owen alone, and I certainly wouldn’t be wise to join them.
“Come along to the library.” I took Charles’s hand, then Peter’s. They were both reluctant, but obedient, which was a pleasant change. As I passed Owen, he set into pace behind us. My heart plummeted. There was no escaping him.
I dropped my brothers off with the Everards, but when Owen seemed intent to stay with us in the library, I excused myself to the corridor. I walked fast with no particular destination.
I heard Owen’s footsteps behind me again. “Annette.” An exasperated sigh followed. “Where are you going?”
I turned around under the golden archway by the drawing room. I released a tense sigh. “I wish to be alone.”
Owen’s brow furrowed. “You don’t have to avoid me, you know.”
I walked into the empty drawing room. “I’m not avoiding you.”
He followed me to the window. “Yes, you are.”
I glared at him. “What reason would I have to avoid you?”
