Page 21 of Mischief and Manors (Change of Heart #1)

CHAPTER 21

M y pink gown arrived in a large white box with a gold bow. I opened it on my bed, too nervous to even touch the lace and shining pink fabric inside.

At the garden party, I would be expected to be elegant and well-mannered while conversing with all of Mrs. Kellaway’s friends, which wasn’t something I had put into practice very often. It felt like my first real debut into society, especially considering her plans to introduce me to the single gentlemen in attendance.

My stomach writhed with discomfort. I was not going to be as popular as Mrs. Everard suspected. I was certain she had only said that for one of two reasons: to instill a little confidence in me, or solely to get a reaction out of Owen.

I looked out the window to see the servants setting up a white tent on the back lawn. Several round tables and chairs had already been placed, clad with clean white cloths and floral centerpieces. Ultimately, Mrs. Kellaway had spared the oranges, opting to serve lemonade to the guests instead.

The party was in less than two hours, so I had little time to waste fretting over it. As Madame Fareweather had said, I needed to look more beautiful than I had ever looked in my life. The ingredients she had listed were the gown, Lizzie’s work on my hair, and all the confidence I could muster.

I rang the bell and Lizzie came quickly, setting to work on lacing my new stays. They were much more structured than my old ones, and far less comfortable. She helped me into my gown, which fit perfectly. We paired it with a set of white gloves, as well as a pearl necklace and parasol from Mrs. Kellaway.

I would have to at least pretend that I had a habit of shielding my face from the sun.

Lizzie threaded a pink ribbon through my hair, pinning a few strands in the shape of rosettes at the crown of my head. She pinched my cheeks, then instructed me to bite my lips as hard as I could manage. The end result produced a flush of color to both.

I examined my reflection from head to toe, pulling my shoulders back and lifting my chin. After those two adjustments, I looked much better. I smiled, my heart skittering with excitement. I looked like I might actually…belong at the party. Madame Fareweather had meant what she said about finding confidence in well-structured stays and a daring neckline. My silhouette looked elegant and feminine, and my eyes shone with certainty.

Perhaps I could hold my own among a crowd of fashionable people. I might not make a fool of myself after all.

I maintained my straight posture as I walked down the stairs to meet Mrs. Kellaway outside. It was almost time for the guests to arrive, so she was busy directing the finishing touches on the refreshments and table settings. I stood back and watched, keeping my parasol straight over my head.

Thankfully, Mrs. Everard joined me.

“You look positively remarkable, my dear,” she said with an approving smile.

“Thank you.”

I stood beside her for several minutes as the guests began wandering onto the lawn from the courtyard. I couldn’t stop my own smile from tugging on my cheeks. The entire setting was a dream—the guests in their beautiful dresses, the flowers, the rows of pastries and sandwiches in the tent, pitchers of refreshing lemonade, and the golden house in the background—all draped in a cloudless summer sky.

Mr. Everard joined us, and then I saw Owen as he stepped up beside his mother to greet her guests. He looked handsome with his navy blue jacket and white cravat. He stepped away for a moment, surveying the crowd. His eyes settled on me, and a smile crossed his face. He began in my direction, and for a strange reason, I wanted to hide behind Mrs. Everard.

I had tossed and turned much of the night, and I could only attribute my restlessness to the moment I had shared with him at the pianoforte. It lived in my mind constantly. At the sight of him now, it jumped straight to the surface. My shyness overcame me, so I fiddled with my parasol. It was all because of that blasted secret we now shared—that he had held me in his arms and I had held him back. I had felt his heartbeat on my chest.

And, if I wasn’t mistaken, we had nearly kissed.

My face heated at the thought. Why could I not brush it aside and forget it had happened? I was acting like a dolt. Surely Owen hadn’t lived that moment over in his mind as many times as I had. I had little experience with such things. It would be foolish to make it into something bigger than it was.

On his way to me, Owen was stopped by a woman and her two daughters. He seemed caught in a conversation, so I allowed my shoulders to relax.

Mrs. Everard looped her arm through mine. “You cannot hide on the edge of the party forever. I am going to plant you by my daughter’s side so she may exhibit you properly.”

The idea of being ‘exhibited’ tied my stomach in a knot, but I had no choice in the matter. Mrs. Everard marched me across the lawn until Mrs. Kellaway caught sight of me. She looked beautiful in her lavender gown, and her smile set my nerves at ease. She waved me forward, and Mrs. Everard stood on my other side.

All the introductions blended together, and I did my best to curtsy and smile at each new face. A man wearing a black top hat and yellow waistcoat stopped in front of me with a deep bow. His hair was dark, curling at the base of his neck. He had a charming smile, and his dark brown eyes took me in with immediate interest.

After presenting me, Mrs. Kellaway said, “this is Mr. Henry Baines.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Miss Downing,” he said in a deep voice. “Are you a relation of the Kellaways?”

I gave a soft smile. “No, but a friend. They were gracious enough to invite me here for the summer along with my two young brothers.”

“Ah, and who wouldn’t wish to spend the summer at such a lovely manor?” His smile put me at ease.

“Precisely my thoughts. Do you live nearby?”

“Fairly close, yes.” He adjusted his hat with a content sigh. “There is little that can persuade me to leave the area, so I spend most of my time at my country house. London does not offer me the same sense of peace as the rolling hills of Hampshire do.”

I smiled, keeping my expression gentle and polite. “There is something very liberating about slowing down and enjoying nature.”

His eyes twinkled with satisfaction. “I agree wholeheartedly.”

I had no idea if I was performing well or not, but Mr. Baines did seem to enjoy our conversation. Thus far, he seemed just as agreeable as Mr. Frampton, and since he lived somewhere other than Silton, he already had more to recommend him. As Mrs. Everard had said, it was wise to have as many options as possible.

My gaze strayed to my left, where I saw Owen observing my conversation with Mr. Baines. My heart leaped, and I almost missed Mr. Baines’s next question.

“And where did you travel from?” he asked.

“Silton, in Dorset.”

He looked upward in thought. “Hmm, I have never been there. Would you recommend it?”

“I find it quite boring compared to this place,” I said with a laugh. “The rose gardens alone are more worth seeing.”

“Is that so? Perhaps you could show me?” As he asked the question, he offered me his arm. I glanced at Mrs. Kellaway, who gave me quick nod.

I wrapped my hand around his elbow, and he led me at a sedate pace across the grass. We passed Owen, and I made the mistake of looking at him again. A new woman and her husband had now captured him in conversation, but his face was a mixture of politeness and distraction.

Several guests had already gathered around the rose bushes. Mr. Baines asked me which roses were my favorite, and I lied and said the white ones.

He seemed deeply interested in me and our conversation as we walked a circle around the bushes and back toward the tables. He was good-humored and polite, and I found that I had nothing to dislike about him.

When I came within Mrs. Kellaway’s grasp again, she introduced me to a young man named Mr. Abney. He didn’t take me for a turn around the gardens, but he did speak with me for several minutes.

After meeting Mr. Fields, I had to agree with Mrs. Everard’s assessment that he was a bit grey. He seemed even older than Mr. Frampton, though he did have a pair of kind blue eyes.

They didn’t compare to Owen’s, though.

I scolded myself for comparing any of these men to him. He was incomparable; I knew that. And today, Owen’s eyes didn’t look kind. They looked irritated. Each time I glanced at him—which was more often than I should have—he seemed like he would have wished to be anywhere but at the party.

Eventually, Mrs. Kellaway gave me a break from so many introductions, and pulled me into the tent. The extra shade was refreshing, and I was finally able to catch my breath.

“You have done so well,” she said with an encouraging smile. “No one would ever know you lacked experience.”

I grinned, a wave of relief crashing over me.

“Have any of the gentlemen impressed you?”

I filled a plate with a few small cakes and a triangular cucumber sandwhich. I chose my words carefully. “Mr. Baines was…agreeable.”

Mrs. Kellaway gave me a secretive smile. “He seemed to like you. I wouldn’t be surprised if he calls upon you soon.”

Away from the crowd, I could finally sense an emptiness in my chest, a lingering fear like the one I had felt after receiving Mr. Frampton’s proposal. Did I want Mr. Baines to like me? That was a good thing, wasn’t it?

My heart ached with uncertainty, and a bit of disappointment. I couldn’t find the reason behind it.

I followed Mrs. Kellaway and Mrs. Everard to a table. Three women were already seated there, and they each had an aloof glance to dart my way.

My smile was pressed down to nothing by the weighted disdain on one woman’s face as she swept her gaze over me, appraising me with that one look. I thought I saw a hint of a challenge in her eyes. My attempt at a confident entry was completely halted. I smiled again for Mrs. Kellaway’s sake and took a seat beside her at the table.

Mrs. Kellaway introduced the women to me. When she introduced the third woman—the one with the haughty, disdainful eye, she said, “Might I make known to you Lady Pembury. She and her family live at Eshersed Park just a mile beyond the woods. And I just received word that Alice will be bringing Charlotte to stay here for a few weeks?”

“Indeed,” Lady Pembury said. “They make their arrival tomorrow, do they not?”

Mrs. Kellaway nodded. “That is what Alice wrote.”

I glanced at Lady Pembury, and even included a smile, but her eyes were still fixed on me with such scrutiny that I dashed my gaze away as quickly as I could.

“My daughter is most delighted to have the opportunity of visiting,” Lady Pembury said. “She adores your home immensely, as well as its occupants, of course. Your entire family is so very agreeable and charming.”

Mrs. Kellaway smiled. “Well, she is very welcome to visit whenever she would like. She and Alice are practically like sisters, it seems.”

“Perhaps closer to it than we think,” Lady Pembury said with a sneaky smile.

Mrs. Kellaway laughed. “What ever do you mean?”

I saw a hint of impatience in Lady Pembury’s eyes, and in the way she pinched her lips together and clicked her fingernails. She smiled like she knew a secret. “During her last season, Charlotte was led to believe that she and your son shared an attachment. She has sufficient evidence to suggest her feelings are returned.”

Mrs. Kellaway’s brow lifted in surprise. “Edmund?”

Lady Pembury’s smile was making a slow creep upward until she looked like a cat before a wounded bird. But she wasn’t planning to pounce yet; I could tell by the way she sneaked around the subject with careful ease. “No, your second son. Owen.”

The other ladies at the table whispered at that, and I saw Mrs. Everard’s eyes widen. My heart was twisting with so many emotions that I nearly dropped my cup. An intense burning had filled me, consumed me, and brought me to the will of this clever, disdainful woman. I tried to appear nonchalant when I noticed the satisfied smile on her lips, aimed at me.

Mrs. Kellaway choked on her lemonade, then set it down, her eyes lit up with sudden interest. “Owen? How can you be certain?”

“Seeing them dance together in London was testimony enough.” She glanced in my direction again.

Did she suspect that I was here trying to secure Owen? Her catlike features held every sign of suspicion. She lowered her voice and leaned toward Mrs. Kellaway, as if the words were meant only for her ears, but I heard them perfectly.

“With Charlotte coming to visit tomorrow, I daresay we have an engagement on the horizon.”

Mrs. Kellaway looked stunned, but she quickly replaced the expression with a polite smile. “Owen hasn’t mentioned anything of this to me. But I suppose it will all play out in the coming weeks.”

Lady Pembury nodded in understanding. “He has not mentioned it because Charlotte asked him to keep it a secret until she had made her decision, as she now has.”

Mrs. Kellaway frowned. “I see.”

My heart was thumping so hard I could hear the blood rushing in my ears. My hand shook as I sipped my lemonade. Why did I feel unable to sit in this chair any longer without bursting to pieces? I tried to remain as normal as possible, but the feeling in my heart and in the pit of my stomach was not normal at all.

Mrs. Kellaway was silent for a long moment. “I suppose I should tell Owen that Charlotte is coming to visit. I didn’t know that information might be so impactful.”

Lady Pembury nodded. “Oh, yes. I’m certain he would like to know.”

From the deliberate glance Lady Pembury cast my way, and from the glow of accomplishment and satisfaction in her deep green eyes, I realized with a start that I was the wounded bird, and she had just somehow caught me.

While the conversation turned to fashion and lace and collars with “inexpressibly precise Vandyke points,” I sat restlessly, sipping my lemonade, and trying to puzzle out why I was feeling so distraught. Owen was only a friend! Why should it matter that he had a previous attachment to someone I have never even met? It didn’t matter. So why did I feel like something within me was being torn slowly apart? Why did I feel so deceived and upset?

My heart pounded as I realized how very wrong I had been to learn so much of Owen, to come so close to him. I had broken my promise not to take him seriously, and I had let him steal some of my heart. If not the whole entire thing.

I sipped my lemonade again, and again, but it did nothing to steady me. In fact, I was convinced that the lemonade was a poison making me weaker and weaker with each drink. I set down the cup, closed my ears from the talk of lace, and attempted to close my eyes from the sight of Lady Pembury and her wicked, stealthy claws. But most of all, I tried my best to close my heart from everything else.

It wasn’t as if Owen had ever been an ‘option’ available to me in the first place. I had reminded myself of that many times. I should have been happy to hear that he would soon be reuinited with this Charlotte .

I should be happy for my friend.

Charlotte was probably a very elegant, proper lady who knew how to navigate London and its world of competition. She knew how to flirt with Owen and win him over. A surge of anger pierced my heart. If Owen was already attached to someone, then why would he have nearly kissed me the night before? Did he think I was the sort of woman to take romance lightly?

A twist of betrayal made my lemonade taste bitter. He had told me not to underestimate him, but now a deep fear settled in my stomach. Had I done the opposite?

When the conversation finally died off, and Lady Pembury went to the tent to get more pastries, I stood as quickly as I could. “Please excuse me.”

As fast as my trembling legs could carry me, I walked all the way to the other side of the tent where I could be hidden from view. I needed a brief moment to myself before throwing myself back into the party.

My gaze settled on the flickering rays of sunshine on the grass. I wished I could somehow grab hold of one and implant it inside of me so I could recover the warm, peaceful feeling I had enjoyed for such a short time. Tomorrow, everything would change. Alice and Charlotte would be arriving. There would be no more lessons for my brothers, no more stolen moments with Owen. It was all over.

I took a deep breath, trying to count the emotions that battled within me. It was ridiculous to feel so jealous, because I too had a potential engagement on the horizon. I shouldn’t have cared, but here I was, caring far too much.

I peeked around the side of the tent. I saw Owen standing near the rose garden. Watching him now, easily mingling and charming the people in his circle, it was clear that I was not on his level. Hadn’t I learned not to dwell on things that were too good to be true? Life took things from me, it always had. It didn’t give me things I dreamed of. Why should it start now?

Owen was a flirt, and I had known it all along. I shouldn’t be surprised to hear that he had much more suitable options. With a composing breath, I pulled my shoulders back and stepped out from my hiding place.

Fortunately, I did too.

I spotted Mr. Baines standing with a glass of lemonade. When he saw me coming, a smile broke over his face. He offered me a chair, and I accepted. He joined me at the table, and we continued our conversation about the merits of Hampshire. He was pleasant, friendly, and kind, and he almost made me forget about the turmoil inside me.

Almost.

I endured the entire party without looking at Owen again, which I was quite proud of, until the last of the guests had departed. I didn’t want anyone to catch me on my way to the house, so I hurried away as quickly as I could.

I thirsted for conversation that wouldn’t include the word lace , and if that could be found anywhere in this world, I was confident that it would be with my little brothers.