The only fault in his father’s logic was that the ball was not somethingOwendesired. Worse than being talked into hosting a ball he wanted nothing to do with, however, would be allowing his parents to persuade Aunt Clara to do something she would rather not do.
“I will speak to her about it in the morning,” he promised, hoping to head them off.
“Then you can accompany us on our neighborhood visits afterward.” Catherine set down her knife and fork and picked up her glass.
“Which visits would those be?” he asked carefully.
“We’ve had two women come to introduce themselves, andwe must return the visits. You will come with us, I hope. They would appreciate that, I am certain.”
How had Owen not been informed of this? “Where was I when they came?”
“With the Yardleys, I believe,” Father said.
“One of them has the prettiest daughter, Owen. You will like her immensely. The Coopers. Do you know them?”
“I do not believe so, no.” He recognized the name, however. Aunt Clara had mentioned them before, something about a pretty Miss Cooper.
Catherine continued without listening. “The other was the wife of a baron. Can you imagine? She came to welcome us. I was so flattered, I promised to return the visit immediately.”
Owen choked on his potato, coughing into his napkin. Wife of a baron? There was only one baron in the area. “Lady Gifford?”
“Yes, that is the one. Are you familiar with her?”
“I wouldn’t know. I have only met her husband before,” he said quietly. “Though that was years ago. It is probably better if I leave you to those meetings. I would only be in the way.”
Catherine narrowed her eyes. “What a foolish notion. An eligible bachelor who owns a beautiful estate? The Cooper women were particularly disappointed to find you missing when they came. I dare say the young woman nearly broke her neck craning to see whether you’d walk past the room every time we heard footsteps.”
“You are making the visits sound far less appealing.”
Catherine made a tsk sound. “You cannot avoid marriage forever.”
“On the contrary, Mother. I’ve never avoided it. I just haven’t found the right woman.”
“She could have been waiting in Briarstead all these years.” Catherine sounded almost dreamy.
Owen’s thoughts immediately jumped to Emma. When hehad asked her to marry him in their youth, he had been so confident in her answer. He’d believed there would be nothing but a decisive agreement that they were meant to spend the rest of their lives together. There had been no question that she had loved him—she’d admitted as much.
Butlovewas not enough. It had not been superior to titles, money, prestige, or status. Lord Gifford, Owen’s chief adversary for Emma’s hand in marriage, possessed everything Owen did not. In the end, those were the things Emma had chosen to value more than the feelings in her heart.
Thus, she’d broken his.
She’d nearly brokenhim. But the army had given him purpose and brought him round. Seeing her again so frequently had grown increasingly easier with time, but the truth remained that he would someday need an heir for Buckley Place, and he would not find one with Emma.
There was no reason he shouldn’t consider the other women of Briarstead.
“I will join you on your visits tomorrow,” he finally said.
Catherine’s smile grew triumphant. “You shall not be disappointed.”
He only hoped.
Aunt Clara did not typically rise early,so Owen took his regular ride and breakfasted, readying for the day entirely before making the trek across the vast expanse of grass to Primrose End the following morning. The call of birdsong greeted him from the trees surrounding the small cottage, and the smell of freshly baked bread wafted from the door as Platt opened it.
Sunlight shone on his head as he dipped in a bow. “Good morning, sir.”
“Is my aunt in? I’d like to speak with her.”
“She has just sat down to breakfast.”
