“I’ll have to ask Miss Pierpont if being called a ladies’ man is a positive thing.”
“Don’t know why it’d be considered anything else, but you let me know if your little ... ah, er, not lady, but Miss Pierpont believes differently.” Andy took hold of George’s reins and began leading him away.
Striding into motion again, Owen settled for merely nodding to Constantine Daroma, George Bringmann, and Frank Dopkiss, knowing full well that if he slowed his pace, the three men he’d also brought on to protect Camilla would launch into their renditions of Meemaw shooting at a stranger. Since all the men believed, as Andy did, in meandering about with any tale they told, it would take at least thirty minutes to hear them out—thirty minutes he wasn’t willing to lose, not when he needed to learn exactly what the situation was with the two men who’d apparently come to call.
Setting his sights on the house, he moved up the front steps, across the portico, then through the door.
The sound of laughter coming from the back of the house drew Owen down the marble hallway, but he stopped in his tracks just outside the receiving parlor at the sight that met his eyes.
What had been a cavernous and empty room that echoed because of lack of furniture the last time he’d been in the house, which had only been a little over a week before, was now filled with a variety of pieces, some of which were still wrapped in brown paper, a stack of what seemed to be paintings propped up against the wall where Luella was standing.
His sister wasn’t alone, but with an older gentleman whose hair was standing on end, which suggested he might be the man who’d had his hat blown off by Meemaw. The man didn’t seem overly concerned about that, though, since he was currently in the process of attempting to level a painting on the wall, inching along as he kept the painting hoisted in the air, his inching continuing when Luella took to shaking her head.
Owen turned his attention to the opposite side of the room and discovered Lottie and Bernadette tossing suggestions at Edward,who was maneuvering an attractive, yellowish-colored couch in front of a fireplace bricked in river stone.
Frankly, he wouldn’t have thought to purchase such a couch on his own, given the feminine color, which, even to his untrained eye, suited the yellow walls of the receiving parlor. That there were two wingback chairs in the same yellow pushed to the right of the French doors suggested all the pieces might be part of a set, but not being proficient with furniture trends in general, he couldn’t say for sure.
Before he could question where all the furniture had come from, or even who the gentleman was helping Luella, a glimpse of a lady’s ivory skirt swishing around outside the French doors captured his attention.
His feet were in motion a second later, but he came to an abrupt stop when he caught sight of Camilla standing on the brick terrace. She was looking quite unlike her usual self, given that her hair was covered with one of Meemaw’s kerchiefs, there was a streak of dirt running across her cheek, and she had an apron wrapped over her gown, something Owen thought looked incredibly charming.
All thoughts of how charming Camilla looked disappeared in a trice, though, when he realized there was a man standing beside her—a man who was bending his head close to Camilla and whispering something into her ear, something that was causing her to smile.
Owen’s stomach took that moment to begin doing some odd topsy-turvy business, which was curious to say the least because his stomach never gave him issues. Nor did he usually feel a spontaneous urge to escort a man who was evidently a guest in his home straight out the door and on his way, which was probably better for the man than the other urge Owen was feeling, one that involved his Colt Dragoons and ...
“Mr. Wetzel,” Luella called out, pulling Owen from what were curious ponderings indeed. “Could we borrow you for a moment?Mr. Pendleton thinks he needs another set of eyes to get this dratted painting straight.”
Owen backed away from the door and stepped behind a large potted plant he’d never seen before, not particularly caring to have to exchange the expected introductions and pleasantries just yet with a man he was considering doing some manner of bodily harm to, something that might very well annoy Camilla since she’d certainly appeared to be enjoying the man’s company—and enjoying it a bit too much, in his humble opinion.
Thankfully, Mr. Wetzel didn’t see him as he strode over to join Luella, where he immediately said something about a little more to the left, earning a dramatic sigh from Mr. Pendleton.
“Owen, what are you doing lurking behind that plant?” Camilla suddenly asked, sticking her head around the plant in question and leveling a frown on him.
It was rather annoying, earning a frown from her when Mr. Wetzel had earned a smile, and a far too delightful smile at that.
He pushed aside his annoyance and summoned up a smile of his own, hoping that might result in Camilla smiling back at him.
Unfortunately, she merely took to looking at him in concern. “Is something the matter?”
Since he couldn’t very well admit he’d taken to lurking about in order to avoid giving in to a very great temptation to pummel one Mr. Wetzel for being the recipient of Camilla’s smile, Owen forced himself to keep his smile firmly in place. “I can’t think of a thing that’s the matter.”
“Then, again, why are you lurking behind that plant?”
“Ah, well, I’m, ah...” His smile widened when the perfect answer sprang to mind. “I’m doing some bug inspection. I once had a plant that was infested with critters, and they invaded the house and caused all sorts of havoc before I was finally able to get the situation under control.”
She cocked her head to the side. “One bug-infested plant caused havoc throughout an entire house?”
“It was a surprise to me as well.”
“I’m sure it was, but there’s no need to worry about that plant. It came directly from the greenhouse Luella has out in the woods somewhere. Since she’s an amateur horticulturist, I imagine she’s pretty diligent when it comes to garden pests in general.”
“Luella’s an amateur horticulturist?”
“You didn’t know that?”
“Are you going to lecture me again about how well I don’t know my sister if I admit I didn’t?”
“That depends.”
