Exhaling a sigh of relief, I guided my brothers under the golden archway that led to the drawing room. I lifted Charles onto the settee beside me and removed my bonnet, placing it on the nearby cushion. The sapphire blue velvet was soft and clean, and I was struck with the fear that Charles would vomit all over it. I held my breath as he nestled against my arm. I arranged my skirts so none of the soiled parts touched the settee.
The chandelier hanging at the center of the room shone brilliantly in the afternoon sunlight. A tea table sat just in front of us with a variety of books resting atop it. I picked one up and examined the cover. I flipped through the pages to distract me from my nervousness as we awaited Mrs. Kellaway’s return.
After a few minutes, she strode into the room. I set the book down as she stepped closer. “How are you feeling, dear boy?” she asked Charles.
He shook his head in silent response, his face still pale.
“Poor dear.” She frowned, moving her gaze to me. “My son is a physician. He recently completed his education and has been in practice for several months now.”
It struck me as odd that a young man bred in such a grand home would have opted for a medical profession rather than the military or clergy. But the fact that he had an occupation at all meant that he must have been a younger son, not the heir of Kellaway Manor. I tried to recall which of her children I had met all those years ago, and which order they were born in.
“Oh, I thought your children were away for the summer,” I said in a curious voice.
“Three of them are, yes. Edmund, Alice, and Simon.”
My stomach dropped. That left just one.
“You have met my son, Owen, I believe, when you visited years ago.” She paused with a laugh, as if remembering the same thing I was. “His behavior has mended itself since then, I assure you. Little Charles is in quite capable hands. Owen will be here shortly to assist him. Would you like me to show you and Peter to your rooms so you might—er—change into something more suitable?” Her smile faltered as she glanced at the vomit covering the front of my skirts.
What was the proper reply? I hesitated to leave Charles alone in this place that was so unfamiliar to him. Not only that, but I wasn’t certain I wanted to leave him under the care of that odious boy—Mrs. Kellaway’s son—who I had met ten years before. A memory pricked my mind with distaste. “I would prefer to stay until I see that Charles is feeling well again, if that is all right.”
“Yes, of course.” Mrs. Kellaway’s lips curled into a smile. “I am truly honored that you came to visit. The last time I saw you, you were so very small. You have become such a lovely young lady. You resemble your mother.” Her eyes flickered over my face with a hint of sadness, but her smile quickly returned.“We shall speak more later, but for now I must meet with my housekeeper.”
“Thank you,” I said as she retreated to the door.
After she took her leave, I stared at the empty doorway for several seconds before pulling my gaze back to Charles. His complexion was already much improved, and he was no longer moaning in discomfort. He didn’t seem to need attention from a physician at all—especially not Mrs. Kellaway’s son.
Owen.
He had been a most disagreeable boy. I could still envision his mischievous smile and infuriating words and . . .
Just then the door opened again, and Owen Kellaway stepped into the room. He wore a navy blue jacket and white cravat, tan trousers and shiny black boots. My gaze landed on his face.
He looked precisely the same…except for the fact that he was no longer a boy.
CHAPTER 4
TEN YEARS BEFORE
I clung to Mama’s sleeve as we entered the vast entry hall of Kellaway Manor. My boots clacked against its marble floors. The walls stretched higher than I had ever imagined walls could, and my eyes followed them upward until they finally touched the lofty ceiling. To the right was a magnificent spiral staircase, winding up and up, like a coiled snake ready to strike. To the left was a tall archway, spanning the door to a drawing room with a beautiful chandelier. My nose took in the scents of the home—it smelled big, open, fresh, and full of secrets. I wondered what those secrets might be.
I caught a glimpse of Papa’s head where he leaned over my shoulder, following my gaze as it roamed. “Do you like it?” he asked in a curious voice.
I turned my head up to him, smiling. “I love it.” In fact, Kellaway Manor was already much more than I had expected it to be. I was excited to meet the friends who Mama and Papa had told me so much about.
Just then, a woman came swiftly down the staircase, a man trailing behind her. They both wore wide smiles, their eyes full of memories and laughter. Papa stepped out from behind me to greet them, and Mama prodded me forward gently as she moved to greet them as well. Then she introduced me to Mr. and Mrs. Kellaway. They smiled a lot, and Mr. Kellaway gave me a candy.
I decided I might like them.
“Where are your children?” I heard Mama ask.
“Oh, I hardly know.” Mrs. Kellaway glanced around with a light laugh. “Edmund is usually off playing with the neighbors down the road. Simon is with the governess. Owen and Alice should be here somewhere…”
I clicked my boots against the floor, enjoying the echo it created. I was eager to explore the place. I wanted to see what was up those winding stairs and what was beyond the golden archway.
“Hmm. How are they? Is Owen as mischievous as ever?”
A laugh. “Oh, perhaps even more so.”
