“Owen left me with this letter. He said to give to you when you came to retrieve your brothers. I asked him what ever was the matter, and he said that you are engaged to Mr. Baines. I said, ‘surely that cannot be so,’ but he insisted that you had told him yourself.” She sniffed. “He left the house immediately after, and I doubt he will return.”
I shook my head, but Mrs. Everard was too distraught to notice. I grabbed her shoulders. “I am not engaged to Mr. Baines!”
She gasped. “I knew it!”
“But…I am engaged to someone else.”
Her brow creased. “Who?”
“Mr. Frampton.”
“Whothe devilis Mr. Frampton?” Her eyes were wild with dismay.
I stepped back with a groan, putting a hand to my forehead. “He is a man from Silton who my aunt—” I stopped myself. “My aunt is aquainted with him. As am I. I have accepted his proposal and will be returning home to marry him after the ball at Willowbourne. But please, do not tell anyone else yet.”
“That is nonsense.” She glared at me. “Owen is in love with you.”
The words were a sharp blow to my heart. People needed to stop saying that.
Mrs. Everard handed me a letter. “Read this, and then you must tell me what it says.”
I glanced behind her at Peter and Charles, who watched our interaction with wide eyes. They were not as oblivious as I had hoped.
Mr. Everard watched me from his place at the table as I broke the seal on Owen’s letter. My hands were unsteady as I unfolded it. I kept my expression firm, determined not to reveal my feelings to any of my spectators.
Dear Annette,
It is now clearthat my presence here has become a burden to your plans and decisions, and for that I am sincerely sorry. Had I known you were engaged, I would not have behaved the way I did this morning. From the first day you arrived, I have had no wish but for a better life for you and your brothers. If you have found that life with Mr. Baines, then I will not breathe another word in any attempt to dissuade you from it. If I were to remain in your presence, I’m afraid I would. To see you each day, to be near you, but to have no hope for you, would be torment. I no longer trust myself to behave as I ought around you, and after having fought so dearly for your good opinion, I wouldn’t dare lose it. I hope I haven’t already.
I have departed to Willowbourne to help my uncle prepare for the ball. Despite all that has happened, I hope you will still attend. I plan it for you, and only for you.
There is no one who deserves happiness more than you, Annette, my charming, beautiful friend. It has been an honor to know you, and I will keep you, as well as your brothers, in myheart always. I hope I have done something to help them, but if not, I still enjoyed every moment with the three of you.
With all my heart,
Owen
Mrs. Everard tried to read over my shoulder, but I slapped the letter flat against my chest. I felt my heartbeat through it.
How could I allow him to continue believing it was Mr. Baines I planned to marry? But in Owen’s mind, who else could it have been? I had told him the engagement was recent, but I hadn’t told him the arrangement had been made by post. Mr. Baines was who I had spent the garden party with, and Owen could have assumed that he had called on me during the days he was away at Willowbourne the first time. He would have no reason to know that Mr. Frampton existed, or that I had come to Kellaway Manor with an unanswered proposal.
Owen had only been home one night, and he was already running away again. After what had happened between us, it was better for me to not see him every day. Still, my grief grew with every passing second. The romantic nature of his words didn’t fail to escape my notice. They set my heart racing.
“Well?” Mrs. Everard exclaimed.
“He went to Willowbourne again.” I swallowed. “His uncle requires help preparing for the ball.”
Mrs. Everard sighed with frustration. “We should all be invited to Willowbourne to help. I have never understood why my son-in-law is so against socializing with the rest of the family.” She turned her gaze on me. “What else did he say?”
I folded the letter with a shake of my head that I knew would infuriate her. “I’m afraid it’s personal.”
Her jaw slackened, and I feared she might drop to her knees and beg at any moment. But I refused to give her another reason to meddle, no matter how she resented me for it. What few matters of my life I could control, I would seize with both hands. This letter from Owen wasmine. The words were too special, and painful, and perfect to share with anyone. I would keep it forever.
“Thank you for delivering this, Mrs. Everard.” My voice shook.
She pursed her lips with a curt nod. “But I must know the truth about one thing this very moment, Annette.” She eyed me carefully. “Areyouin love with Owen?”
The question took me off guard. A nervous sensation swooped through my stomach, dismantling the walls around my heart. I felt raw and vulnerable, and a shiver came over my body. I crossed my arms, meeting Mrs. Everard’s gaze. “I know very little of love. The only love afforded to me is a love for my brothers. I do not expect or dream of anything else. If I am to care for them properly, there is not space enough in my heart for anyone but them.”
