Page 24 of Mischief and Manors (Change of Heart #1)

CHAPTER 24

A fierce wave of shock rolled through my stomach.

I jerked my head to Mrs. Everard. She was grinning at me, and gave me a quick nod, as if encouraging me to play along with her ridiculous charade.

What was wrong with her? She was clearly losing her mind.

When I moved my gaze to the two young ladies in front of me, Alice was staring at me with round eyes and a hand over her mouth. Miss Lyons watched me with downturned brows and compressed lips. And a challenge.

“I—um . . .” I struggled for words that would deny what Mrs. Everard had said, but I was hopelessly mute, and could not think clearly for my life. What on earth was Mrs. Everard hoping to achieve with her lie? My head spun.

“She is very shy about the ordeal,” Mrs. Everard inserted with quick precision. “She hopes the news will not come as a disappointment to anyone here.” She turned her gaze to me and placed a hand on my other shoulder. “We could never be disappointed to have Miss Downing join the family.”

I started shaking my head, but Mrs. Everard cupped my cheeks between her hands. “She and her brothers have been a delight.”

I stared at her, my jaw slack. She blocked me from the view of Alice and Miss Lyons, casting me a stern look. How could I accuse her, a woman above me in both age and station, of lying? Mrs. Everard would have my head if I spoke against her.

Mrs. Kellaway turned toward me in shock. “Annette? Why didn’t you tell me this morning? That is delightful news!”

Once again, Mrs. Everard spoke for me. “She asked me to keep it a secret until the other guests arrived.” She patted my cheek and released me. I looked down at my brothers, who were observing silently. I prayed they didn’t realize what was happening.

Mrs. Kellaway stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me. She squeezed tight. Her blue eyes were misty when she stepped back. “I am so happy to know that you will be my daughter-in-law. I couldn’t have dreamed that Owen would choose someone as wonderful as you. I should have forseen these circumstances. I have never seen him happier than he has been since you arrived here.” She hugged me again, and I caught a glimpse of Miss Lyons’s expression over her shoulder.

She watched me with narrowed eyes before looking down at the floor with an arched eyebrow. Alice’s forehead was pinched, her hand resting on Charlotte’s upper arm as if to silently console her.

Mrs. Everard had just dashed the dreams of both young ladies with her ridiculous sham. My heart raced as Mrs. Kellaway released me. My pride screamed at me in protest, but I had to deny Mrs. Everard’s claim before it spiraled out of control. I spoke in a quiet voice. “Mrs. Kellaway…I?—”

Before I could finish, Charles tugged hard on my skirts. “I need the chamber pot,” he whispered. He bounced up and down, a desperate look on his face. “I need it right now.”

“Excuse us,” I muttered, pulling Charles away from the watchful eyes in the entry hall. My face burned. I left Peter with Mrs. Kellaway as I hurried Charles to the nearest retiring room.

I paced the floor on the other side of the screen as Charles used the chamber pot, my mind racing. My stomach lurched, and I felt ill enough to vomit. I had lost my chance to deny the engagement! Doing so later would be even more awkward. Did Mrs. Everard realize the uncomfortable position she had put me in? Frustration bubbled up in my chest, and I wanted to scream.

A few minutes later, I took Charles by the hand and crept into the corridor. Thankfully Mrs. Kellaway and the other ladies had left the entry hall. I heard voices on the floor above, so going back to my bedchamber was not an option.

My skin prickled as I caught sight of Mrs. Everard shuffling down the corridor toward me. She had Peter in tow…and an infuriating grin on her face. She passed my brothers off to a maid, and I didn’t object.

It was best that they not witness this confrontation.

As soon as they were out of earshot, I crossed my arms over my chest. “I am not engaged to Owen!” I tried to keep my voice quiet, but my frustration was peeking through.

“Yes, yes, I know that.” Mrs. Everard waved a hand in the air as if swatting unseen flies.

“Then why?—”

“Because,” she interrupted, “I thoroughly despise Lady Pembury, that is why.” A little hoot escaped her pursed lips. “I find the ruse quite brilliant actually. If Miss Lyons thinks that you are engaged to Owen, then she won’t stay for long, and her mother may not have the satisfaction of having a daughter married to one of the wealthiest men in town.”

I put a hand to my forehead. I was feeling quite faint now, and nothing made sense. Owen was not wealthy. He was a doctor. “What about all the others? What about when Owen returns?”

She shrugged. “Then I suppose I will have no choice but to confess to my scheme.”

A wave of despair nearly knocked me over. I couldn’t even imagine the embarrassment, especially after the way Owen and I had parted. He was likely still cross with me, and returning home to learn that I was pretending to be his betrothed would not make him like me any better.

“Oh, do not fret!” Mrs. Everard exclaimed. “It is all in good humor. We shall all laugh about it together once Miss Lyons is gone.”

I took a steadying breath. “I told you I have no wish to come between Owen and Miss Lyons. If they share an attachment, I would hate to take part in ruining their happiness.”

Mrs. Everard sighed. “That is the part you do not understand. Miss Lyons is not attached to Owen. She is attached to his wealth and possessions. I know Lady Pembury, and I know that she secured her own husband by hiding in his bedchamber at a house party and ensuring she was seen as he walked her out. He was forced by honor to marry her. I have no doubt that she has trained her daughters well in the art of ensnaring a man.”

My insides flipped. My head was still muddied with confusion, particularly over one statement. “I don’t understand. Why has she not set her mind on Edmund? He is the one who will inherit everything.”

Mrs. Everard blinked at me, silent for a long moment. “I should not be telling you this, but I believe you should know if you are going to go along with my plan.”

I scowled. “But I’m not?—”

Mrs. Everard raised a hand to stop my words.

I folded my arms, trying to hold my anger inside.

“Owen’s uncle, master of Willowbourne, had only one son,” she said. “When Theodore died, my son-in-law went to great lengths to ensure Owen was named his new heir. One day, Owen will inherit Willowbourne and all the income that comes with it.”

I stood back, too stunned to speak. Why hadn’t Owen told me? I had convinced him to revisit the place and he hadn’t even told me the truth.

Mrs. Everard’s eyes flashed with determination. “Lady Pembury did originally have her mind set on Edmund for Charlotte, until she learned that Owen was a greater prize. They discovered the truth about Owen’s inheritance when Alice let the news slip while she was dining with the family.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Much like you just let the news slip to me?”

“Ah, but this is different. You are not trying to ensnare him. In fact, you seem to be doing the opposite, which is quite vexing.” She gave me a pointed look. “You must help me enact this plan. We must drive Miss Lyons and her wicked intentions away for good. You mustn’t accuse me of lying about the engagement while Miss Lyons is here. My reputation depends on it. Owen’s well-being depends on it.” She gripped my arm. “You mustn’t tell anyone.”

I was trapped. Completely and utterly trapped. I swallowed against the dryness in my throat. “But if Owen arrives and sees that the news of his inheritence is out, and that I have been pretending to be engaged to him, he will think that I’m trying to ensnare him.”

“Nonsense. I will explain everything to him.”

It was a horrible plan, but nothing seemed to get through to her. “Owen might not be away as long as you think,” I said. “He could be back as soon as tonight. That is not enough time for Miss Lyons to leave.” The fear in my stomach punched at me. I swallowed and wiped my palms down my skirts.

Mrs. Everard shook her head. “Losing her prize to a woman who she perceives to be beneath her station will damage her pride too severely. She will be out the door before we know it.”

I couldn’t believe this was happening. I had never participated in such a disasterous ruse. “Can we at least include Mrs. Kellaway in the scheme? I hate the thought of deceiving her.”

She gave a swift shake of her head. “She is far too honest.”

I scowled.

“I promise, this will all be worth it,” Mrs. Everard said. “I was already thoroughly entertained by the look of disappointment on that fortune hunter’s face.” Her gleeful smile made my stomach ache even more.

I took a deep breath. “Is this not all…speculation? You have no proof that Owen and Miss Lyons don’t share genuine feelings.”

Mrs. Everard leaned close to me, and I smelled a hint of brandy on her breath. “ You , my dear, are all the proof I require. His feelings are for you . His heart belongs to you.”

A thrill burst across my skin, but I pushed it away. If only Mrs. Everard’s judgment could be trusted. Her antics today had made me doubt her severely. “That is also speculation,” I said in a stern voice.

She shrugged, pursing her lips. “Only time will tell.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to calm the storm of thoughts racing through my head. Meeting Miss Lyons in all her glory, learning the truth about Owen’s inheritance…it only added to my certainty that I was no match for him.

Willowbourne was the finest house in Hampshire, and Owen would have the entire estate. The earnings of the land would surely amount to tens of thousands per year. He had seen the world, and he had seen the pool of accomplished, well-connected, rich ladies in London. He must have known full well that he could have his pick of any one of them. Miss Lyons might have been his pick, and she might not have been, but that didn’t mean he would look twice at me with any serious intentions. I had been reading the clues wrong, surely I had.

How presumptuous I was to have thought, even for a second, that I stood a chance.

With this fake engagement, everyone in the house would be thinking the same thing, having the same doubts. When the truth was revealed, they would all laugh in relief to know that Owen was not as great a fool as they suspected.

A sense of dread overwhelmed me. If I couldn’t contradict Mrs. Everard in front of the others, then perhaps I had no choice but to leave Kellaway Manor. The idea made my heart ache, but it still sounded better than being caught in this ruse. My brothers had learned to improve their behavior here, but would it last when we returned home?

I turned on my heel, no longer caring about my manners. I was angry. Mrs. Everard was going to ruin Kellaway Manor for me. She may have thought she was being a matchmaker, but she was really setting me up to be mortified in front of the people I had been trying so hard to impress. How dare she put me in this situation? How dare she expect me to play along without any remorse? I shook my head and cursed Mrs. Everard under my breath.

I stormed out the front door, around the back of the house, and toward the stables. The inside smelled of hay and animals and every scent that comes with them. Eve stood in her stall, her black coat gleaming like a lake in moonlight.

As I approached, her playful eyes and almost-smile turned my way. Scraps of discarded hay littered the ground around my feet as I stepped forward and rubbed two of my fingers between her eyes. Scanning my surroundings for grooms or other people, thankfully, I found none. I needed to talk to someone, freely, without reservation.

My gaze found Eve’s dark eyes. That someone might as well be a horse.

I scanned the stables one last time for anyone who might be eavesdropping, then began spilling all my secrets. I felt like a dolt, pouring out my concerns and questions and fears to a horse, but surprisingly it seemed comfortable, relieving, and I didn’t have to worry about being judged.

I told her about my aunt, and her requirements of my brothers. I told her about Kellaway Manor, and how at home I felt with these people who I would soon have to leave. I told her about Owen, and how afraid I was that we might never be friends again. I told her how there was speculation that he might be in love with Miss Lyons.

My voice and heart felt heavy when I said that part.

I considered asking her why it hurt me so much, but I was afraid of the answer. The realization had been sneaking up on me, and now there was nothing left to hide it. Owen was much more than a friend to me. I feared I had fallen in love with him.

I didn’t know how long I had been falling, but it felt just as irreversable as my harsh words to him in the library. Dread sank through my stomach, followed by a hint of panic. How had I allowed this to happen? Loving Owen was a risk that would end up hurting me, I just knew it. I could already feel the pain of regret and the fear of rejection, all as a result of having a careless heart. That organ was traitorous, and I needed to learn to control it before I married Mr. Frampton. If only I knew how. My heart had not asked me for permission to fall in love with Owen, and it was stubborn enough to refuse alteration.

I leaned my elbow on the gate of Eve’s stall and rubbed my forehead. Perhaps it wasn’t too late. Perhaps I could forget him. There was still time before Owen returned. I could still turn my heart in the right direction. But the most pressing issue, the false engagement, led me to ramble on to the horse for another five minutes. I asked her what I should do about it.

She didn’t answer, of course.

When I finished talking to Eve, the stable was thick with the silence that I had dispelled with my prattle. I felt a small sense of relief, but not enough to be comfortable. I gave Eve one last stroke between her eyes and walked to the orangery. I hadn’t been inside since the first day with Owen. It was warm and quiet, but all I could see was the empty space on the bench beside me.

I plucked an orange from one of the trees, peeling back the skin and taking a bite. It tasted more bitter that I remembered. I didn’t finish it, even though it was the first thing I had eaten all day. I didn’t want to go back to the house and face Mrs. Kellaway, Alice, and Miss Lyons. They would surely have questions for me. I didn’t want to lie. I would rather be hated by Mrs. Everard than hated by everyone else. I pondered over that for a long moment.

Telling the truth was still the best course of action.

If I could find a private moment with Mrs. Kellaway, I could tell her about her mother’s scheme and how I didn’t choose to be a part of it. She could then clear things up with Alice and Miss Lyons immediately.

With these firm thoughts in mind, I made my way back to the house.

I had been hiding outside for far too long. It was time to face the problem boldly; it was the only way to put it behind me. I walked up the stairs, where I could hear Mrs. Kellaway’s laugh coming from a room at the end of the hall. As I approached the door, I nearly collided with her as she walked out.

Her eyes flew open wide and she gasped, placing a hand to her chest. “Good heavens, you gave me a fright!” She laughed, chest heaving as she caught her breath.

“I’m sorry,” I said in a glum voice.

Mrs. Kellaway wasn’t alone for long. Alice and Miss Lyons stepped out behind her.

Drat it all.

I locked eyes with Miss Lyons, who looked as shocked as Mrs. Kellaway, her cool blue eyes round, her perfect lips parted. “Were you eavesdropping?” she asked with a laugh.

Her voice grated on me. “No. I came to speak with Mrs. Kellaway.” I turned to face her. “May I have a moment of your time?” I tried to keep my voice calm.

Mrs. Kellaway nodded, though she looked a little confused. She stepped away from the door and followed me toward my room. My heart raced as I rehearsed the words in my mind. I am not engaged to Owen. I am sorry for the misunderstanding. Your mother is an old, mischievous, dolt who finds pleasure in torturing me.

My thoughts were interrupted by the echo of hurried feet along with the sound of Peter’s panicked voice. “Annette! Charles is stuck!”

I whirled around just in time for Peter to grab my arm.

His face was wet where tears had smeared across his freckled cheeks. He sniffed and tugged me in the direction of their room. I quickly excused myself with a fleeting glance at Mrs. Kellaway, and ran after Peter down the hall.