“And leave me to eat in silence?” Owen asked.
Emma’s eyes widened. What the heavens was he up to?
“I think on this occasion it would be acceptable for you to put aside your good breeding and take your meal with me here,” he pressed. “Surely no one can have anything to say to a companion dining with her employer’s nephew, particularly not after the household has received a great shock. You need to eat, Miss Darling, and dinner is awaiting us in the antechamber.”
“It is there now?” she asked, looking to Mrs. Rooney for confirmation.
The housekeeper nodded.
“Very well.” She moved to the table and took her seat to the left of the head, sitting as Owen pushed her chair in. He sat at the head of the table, lifting his napkin and laying it over his lap. Mr. Slater poured the wine while footmen carried the soup out and placed it in front of each of them.
“Why didn’t you invite Mrs. Rooney to join us?” Emma asked, taking the first bite of her leek pottage.
Owen nearly dropped his spoon in his bowl. “If you mean to imply you are akin to a servant, I won’t hear of it.”
She straightened, lowering her hand until her spoon rested against her bowl. “I am paid a wage, Ow—Captain.” She swallowed roughly. “There is no other word more fitting.”
His gray eyes bore into her. “Why do you insist on reminding me of the disparity between our stations? Is it so important to you? You are more of a snob than I gave you credit for.”
Emma sucked in a surprised breath. Hurt sliced through her at his pointed use of that word. It was clear when she had rejected his suit the first time, he had believed her to be a snob of the highest order. She had only believed herself to be an obedient daughter—but that was irrelevant now.
Resolve flowed through her like molten iron, solidifying as it cooled. “Pretending the disparity is not there does not make it absent. Unlike the other places you have traveled, we appreciateorder here in Briarstead and do our best to respect proper decorum.”
“Some things never change,” he muttered.
She looked up swiftly, only to find a distinct look of amusement in his eyes. Was helaughingat her? He had walked away from her all those years ago. She had sent a plea for him to return, confessing her love, and tucked it within a note from his aunt. She had jilted the baron because she had not been able to imagine life with any other man but Owen. He had replied to his aunt’s letter, so it was impossible he did not see the note from her. The man had turned her away, and now he was back, speaking as though no time had passed at all.
As though he had not been the last to reject her.
She narrowed her eyes, lifting her goblet and taking a sip. “Yet some people are so altered as to be almost entirely unrecognizable.”
CHAPTER TEN
So altered asto be almost entirely unrecognizable? Emma must have been speaking of Owen, but he didn’t know why. Yes, he had tanned during his time in India. His hair had lightened. It was devilishly hot. He could not help it. But his personality remained steadfast.
His feelings for Emma, though changed, were still present; that much was entirely clear. He could not see her without noticing the way his heart leaped to his throat.
He wished that was not the case, but he could not argue with his body’s reaction to her. Why he had invited her to dine was an utter mystery to even himself. The words were out of his mouth before he could properly consider them.
Now she was shooting daggers at him with her eyes, calling him a changed man. She was correct.
“Shall I list the ways, or would you like to?” he asked.
“You are being ridiculous again.”
“You are the one who mentioned it.”
Emma took a bite of soup.
Owen waited patiently.
She took another spoonful, smiling around her utensil. Bythe time her bowl was empty, his was as well, and he had not said another word. But watching her had not been a hardship. She was still the most beautiful creature he’d ever beheld. He was dying to ask her what had happened all those years ago that led her to becoming his aunt’s companion, the circumstances that had kept her single, but it was not any of his business.
“My skin has darkened. My hair has lightened somewhat,” he supplied to start her off.
“You are more free with your language,” she said. “You used to be somewhat reticent to speak.”
In contrast, Emma was far more reticent than she used to be. It was true that Owen had gained more confidence. He was no longer the bumbling young man, smitten by Emma’s wit and beauty, completely fallen under her charm. Nine years ago, he had been grateful simply to receive her attention. Now, he knew his worth—for the most part. His value had been evident in the British army. He’d proven capable of leading men, of being reliable and sought after. He had even been looked up to by some.
