Page 10 of Mischief and Manors (Change of Heart #1)

CHAPTER 10

O wen grasped my hand and we took off, racing across the grass. The wind flew at my face, muffling my laughter. I glanced back at the woman, holding my bonnet against my head with my free hand. She was advancing with great haste, pumping her arms far too high to look natural.

I had no idea where we were going, but Owen seemed to have a plan. We reached the stables and Owen pulled me inside an empty stall, latching the door behind us. Two grooms, busy feeding the horses, glanced up at our entrance. Owen held a finger to his lips. The grooms seemed to understand the request, returning to their work as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.

At present, we were too tall to be concealed by the stall door, so Owen motioned for me to crouch beside him. I stifled my laughter, struggling to keep my breathing quiet after the thrill of our narrow escape from that frightening woman. The air in the stables carried an unpleasant scent, yet I had no choice but to gulp in as much air as I could as I caught my breath.

“Who was that?” I hissed as quietly as I could.

Owen grinned with amusement, his own breathing heavy. “The groundskeeper’s wife, Mrs. Berney. The woman of my nightmares.”

“And now mine.”

He laughed, leaning toward me with a whisper. “When I was a young boy, I was quite like your brothers. Nothing pleased me more than good mischief.”

I raised an eyebrow. “It seems that is still the case.”

He chuckled. “That may be true, but I used to pick roses every morning. I told Mrs. Berney that I picked them as a gift for my mother, when really I picked them solely to make her angry.”

“After all these years, you still enjoy provoking her?”

“That was not my intention today, I assure you. I simply wanted you to have a rose.” He smiled. His eyes seemed to be taking in every feature of my face. I was suddenly very aware of how unbecoming I must have looked after my tangle with the bushes. My face grew hot. I needed to stop finding myself trapped in small spaces with Owen.

It was then that our stall door flew open to reveal Mrs. Berney, still upholding her scolding finger. We stood, and I retreated a few steps. I hadn’t noticed before, but she reminded me of Aunt Ruth.

“Owen Kellaway, you give me that rose this instant!” she barked. “My husband has been charged with the task of keeping those bushes immaculate for your mother’s garden party. He shall be blamed if a single bush is found lacking.”

Owen sighed and extended the rose in her direction. “It cannot be reattached to the bush, but I will ensure your husband isn’t blamed if the missing rose is noticed.”

Mrs. Berney snatched the white rose from his hand. “I might also encourage you not to entertain your guest without a chaperone.” Her gaze flickered to me.

I looked down at the hay-littered ground. She was right. I should have brought Lizzie with me, but I hadn’t planned on crossing paths with Owen.

“Thankfully you are here now,” Owen said to Mrs. Berney. “Please remain nearby for the rest of our tour.”

She sputtered. “I have tasks to attend to.”

Owen was silent for several seconds, until Mrs. Berney finally remembered her place. She grumbled something under her breath. “Very well, sir.”

She must have felt very secure in her position to behave in such a manner to a gentleman of the household. But she had been dealing with his antics for years. How many women had taken part in raising Owen? Surely his behavior would have been overwhelming to just one nursemaid. Perhaps the entire staff had been taught to discipline him from a young age.

Mrs. Berney stepped aside, leaving room for us to exit the stall. I followed him out, casting a grateful smile in Mrs. Berney’s direction. She gave a reluctant curtsy. Immediately, I felt the familiar sense of being a burden.

“You don’t have to stay,” I blurted. “I can ask my maid to accompany us instead.”

Mrs. Berney scowled. “Why? So you can have another moment alone with Dr. Kellaway?”

“No—I mean, you do not seem…pleased with the task.”

Her eyes raked over me with suspicion. “I didn’t know the news of Willowbourne had spread as far as Silton.”

Owen stepped between us with a scowl. “Have respect for our guest, Mrs. Berney, and follow at a distance.” His voice was firm. “Or I shall strip that rose bush clean by the end of the day.”

She took a step back, her jaw clenching.

Owen extended his arm to me and I took it, following him as far away from Mrs. Berney as possible. What was she referring to? Her words were clearly a jab at my character, as if I had some secret intention of ensnaring Owen. We walked to the very end of the stables in silence before Owen turned to me. “I hope Mrs. Berney did not offend you. Can you see why she would haunt my dreams?”

“Yes, but I can also see why you would haunt hers.”

He laughed. “My parents have always been kind to their servants. Her husband would never be dismissed from his position here. One rose will not be missed.” He shrugged. “Although two might raise suspicion.”

He stepped behind a post and revealed another rose from behind his back. He smiled as he extended it toward me. “I know it wasn’t your first choice, but?—”

“How did you—” I didn’t move, my eyes settling on the soft pink petals.

“I held it in this hand the entire time. Mrs. Berney didn’t even notice.”

My gaze flickered in her direction. She trudged along slowly from the other end of the stables. We were hidden by the post, but she would surely notice the rose in my hand later.

I eyed it with careful scrutiny.

Owen tilted his head to look more directly into my eyes. “I can assure you that it isn’t poisoned.”

I glanced up at him, a small smile creeping onto my lips. But I said nothing.

“Annette, what do you have against this color?” he asked, apparently sensing my resentment.

“Nothing.”

“Then take it. Please. And you will learn to love it.”

I accepted it, only because I knew he wouldn’t relent until I did. I held it far away from me, making a note to dispose of it later.

His gaze flickered from the rose to my face, confusion written on his features. Thankfully, he moved his eyes from mine without asking for an explanation. He nodded toward the stalls. “Would you like to meet the horses?”

Excitement surged within me. There had always been a special place in my heart for animals. “Yes.”

I followed him down the aisle to the nearest stall where a tall, dark horse stood, shifting restlessly. “This is Cosmo,” Owen said. “He belongs to my elder brother, Edmund.”

I rubbed the horse’s muzzle and ran my finger along the space between his eyes. My father had once told me that a horse would become your best friend if you did that. Cosmo’s fur was short and coarse, and the fuzzy skin on his snout was slightly wet. Owen moved down the row, naming off each horse. I paused at every stall, making sure to stroke each one between the eyes.

Owen stopped at the stall second to the end to rub the muzzle of a copper colored horse. “This one is mine. I received him from my father when he was only a foal.”

“What’s his name?” I asked, leaning toward the horse in curiosity.

“First, you must understand that I was very young when I named him.” I could hear the smile in his voice.

I turned around to face him. “Now I’m really curious.”

Owen dropped his gaze and scuffed his boot across the floor. He glanced at me with a small smile. “Horsey.”

I laughed. “Horsey? You’re lying.”

“I’m not.”

I looked at the horse again. He had large, round eyes and a playful expression. “He certainly looks like a Horsey.”

“That is precisely what I thought.” Owen laughed and gestured to the last stall. “And this lovely mare’s name is Eve.”

I walked up to Eve’s stall and stroked her head. She had a black, shiny coat with friendly features. She whinnied heartily and it almost looked like she was smiling. I rubbed between her eyes and down her muzzle.

“I think she likes you,” Owen said, leaning against the wall.

I smiled at her. “She’s lovely. Look at her perfect coat and gentle eyes. I think her face is the most beautiful so far.”

“I would disagree.” The soft tone of his voice made me glance up at him. My heart skipped at his warm expression—the way his eyes roamed my face. It was clear that he meant me. I moved my gaze away quickly and cleared my throat. The flirtation shouldn’t have induced such panic, but it was the only reaction I could feel.

I couldn’t have him thinking he was clever with his choice of words. “Well I should hope my face is more beautiful than a horse’s,” I said.

His brows shot up and he laughed. I felt a surge of satisfaction. I liked surprising him. I had promised myself I wouldn’t take his flirting seriously, and I never broke my promises.

“What I meant to say was that you resemble her,” he quipped with a playful grin.

I turned my back to the stall, facing him fully. “I’ll take that comparison over a boiled radish.”

His eyes lit up with realization. “So this is the grudge you’ve been holding. ”

“No.”

“Yes.” He took a step closer. “You were upset with me last night because I noticed your blush.”

I sighed. “One never enjoys being told they are blushing.”

He considered me carefully. “But does one enjoy being told how endearing they look when they are blushing?” Those dark lashes cast a shadow over his cheek.

“Some might, but I don’t.” I slipped away from him before he could trap me against the stall door. I wiped my hands against my skirts. He had only managed to fluster me a little, which I was proud of. “Thank you for showing me the gardens, and the horses, but I think it’s time that I retrieve my brothers.”

“Wait—” Owen grasped my elbow before I could escape. “I cannot allow you to leave until you’ve seen the orangery. Trust me, you do not want to deny yourself the opportunity.”

I turned around. Thankfully, his light expression had resurfaced. This I was more comfortable with. “Fine. But we need to hurry.”