“No,” he said firmly, startling both women. “This conversation has not yet ended.”
Aunt Clara tilted her head, reaching for his hand and giving it a loving squeeze. “You have a kind heart, Owen, but it is decided. I cannot remain here. You must step aside and let me go.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Emma could senseOwen’s frustration sloughing from him in waves. He clearly failed to grasp his aunt’s reasoning, and she did not blame him.
“Help me understand,” he said.
Mrs. Buckley dropped her hand to her side. “Owen?—”
“It is only fair. If you are to abandon me the moment your husband saddles me with this estate, I ought to understand your reasons.”
Mrs. Buckley stared at him.
It took everything in Emma not to step in and bridge the space between them, but it was not her place. She could not insert herself into the conversation without being invited.
“Saddled?” Mrs. Buckley said.
“Yes.” Owen straightened. “It was not…I did notaskfor this, Aunt Clara. I’ve been in India for nine years, surrounded by men and living far from polite society. I do not know the first thing about running an estate of this size, and I have missed my family. I have missedyou.”
His eyes flicked to Emma and away quickly, making her heartjump. It felt as though he had spoken those words to her, which could not be further from the truth.
“I have missed you as well,” Mrs. Buckley said, her voice strained.
“Then remain here. If you will not stay in the main house, take up residence at Primrose End. I intend to dispatch a man to draw up a list of needed repairs, and it will be put in order shortly. You can be mistress of your own household, but near enough to help with Buckley Place as needed.”
The way Mrs. Buckley’s face crumpled with concern was not promising. Despite having devised the plan Owen was now presenting, Emma questioned the wisdom of it. At the time, she had not considered the emotional difficulty of remaining in a house Mrs. Buckley had shared with her husband after he chose not to leave it to her. Being forced to watch it change under another person’s ownership would not be easy.
“I’m not certain, Owen.”
“Do not decide today,” he pleaded, looking to Emma for assistance. “Miss Darling must agree there is merit in the idea. At least look at the house first.”
Emma nodded. “Great merit, I think. You should consider it, Mrs. Buckley. Your life is here. Your friends are here.”
She did not add that the woman’s memories were here as well, but she hoped the conclusion had been drawn. She had been walking through a graveyard of her own past since Owen resurfaced, and she could vouch for the startling nature of living in that state. She did not recommend it.
“If you think so, Emma.” Mrs. Buckley nodded slowly. “We mustn’t choose today.”
Owen noticeably relaxed. “Thank you, Aunt.”
“You look tired, Mrs. Buckley. Would you like me to fetch you a cup of tea?” Emma suggested. “You can take your lavender tincture and rest before dinner.”
“A rest alone will suffice.”
Emma set about drawing the curtains at once. She noted Owen murmur to his aunt before slipping from the room. They might not have been a perfect team, but they accomplished what they set out to do.
After the servants had left, as Emma was pulling the bed curtains closed, Mrs. Buckley lifted a hand to stop her. “Now that we are alone, I need your true opinion, Emma.”
“I was honest?—”
“I know you were, girl. But you were careful. Do not spare my feelings now.” She waited expectantly.
“Your happiness and stability are important to me, and I believe you can find both of those here.”
“Of course you would concern yourself with my stability. Have you thought of your own?” She chewed on her lip. “I own it was the shabbiest thing Mr. Buckley did not leave you something of an independence, but I always believed you would have a place with me. It did not occur to me thatIwould not have a place to provide for you.”
Affection rose in Emma’s breast. “You needn’t worry about me. My independence will come in two years, remember?”
