Page 31 of Mischief and Manors (Change of Heart #1)

CHAPTER 31

M y dancing lessons with Alice were the only thing to keep my mind from its many worries. Each time a footman crossed my path, or I noticed letters on the salver in the entry hall, my stomach plummeted.

By the day of the ball, Aunt Ruth still hadn’t answered my letter.

I had toyed with the idea of writing to Owen at Willowbourne, to thank him for what he had done for me and my brothers, but I hadn’t found the words. To write to him without telling him how I truly felt made me feel like a liar. The decisions I was being forced to make made me feel so untrue to myself that I could hardly bear to look at my reflection as I tried on the new gown Mrs. Kellaway had bought for me.

It was light blue like the sky, like Owen’s eyes. The sleeves were curved, the fabric overlapping like the petals of a rose. The overlay shimmered in the candlelight of my bedchamber as Lizzie put the finishing touches on my hair. She had been trying to make up for her mistake of sending my letter all week, and though I had forgiven her, I was grateful for her extraordinary effort that night.

She had outdone herself.

I should have felt excited for my first ball, and confident like I had been at the garden party, but instead I felt ragged and empty. I had spent the day packing my trunk, bidding my farewells to all the rooms of the house and the grounds that I might never see again.

Before meeting downstairs to leave for the ball, I stopped by Peter’s and Charles’s room.

Their maid sat up straighter in her chair when I entered.

It was almost time for them to retire, and I could never pass an evening without being the one to bid them goodnight. I hadn’t yet told them about how soon our departure would be. It was a conversation I had been dreading.

I sat on the edge of Peter’s bed. “I’m afraid we must leave Kellaway Manor tomorrow,” I said, smoothing his mussed hair. “I packed your trunks today.”

“Are we going to go see Dr. Kellaway?” he asked with a confused frown.

“Yes! Please, please may we go?” Charles asked from behind me, nearly leaping from his bed.

My heart sank, but the words needed to be said. “We are going back to Aunt Ruth’s house for a short while, and then we will move to the parish. I am going to marry Mr. Frampton, remember?” I had tried to explain the situation to them over the past week, but they had failed to fully accept or understand it.

Peter’s eyes filled with tears. He sat up and blinked fast, rubbing his eyes with both fists. He didn’t say a word. I pulled him into my arms.

Charles slipped off his bed and climbed onto Peter’s. I wrapped my other arm around him, squeezing him tight.

Charles’s lower lip quivered. “Why can’t we stay?”

“We have already stayed for far too long.”

They both sat in silence for several seconds, then Charles said, “But—but what if Aunt Ruth still thinks we are bad?”

I pulled him into another tight hug, partly to console him, and partly to keep my heart in one piece. “You are the best boys in the world. Not to worry. You have behaved well almost the entire time we have been here.” I pulled away, wiping the tears from their cheeks. “I won’t let her hurt you. She will not send you away.”

“Dr. Kellaway said that to us too,” Peter whispered.

My heart stung. Of course Owen had said that.

“When is he coming back?” Charles asked with a sniff.

I had hoped Owen would fade from their lives, and from their hearts, without a proper goodbye. I should have known better. Owen did not simply fade away. He was far too memorable, and far too easy to love.

I tightened my jaw, keeping my voice calm despite the turmoil inside me. “Willowbourne is his home now, just like how the parish will be our new home. Perhaps one day we can visit him.”

I knew it could never be the case, but I would have said anything to console them.

“I love you,” I whispered to each of them in turn.

Their sniffles tore apart my resolve to attend the ball. I wanted to stay and comfort them. This was where I belonged, not among elegant company dancing in a grand estate. But Mrs. Kellaway and the others were waiting for me, and I had made a promise I would attend.

With one final kiss on each of their foreheads, I walked toward the door. Before I reached it, I heard the sound of small feet running up behind me.

“I want to stay,” Charles said. I could hear the tears in his voice. I turned around to see his little outstretched hand, holding the two pennies Mr. Everard had given him. His clear blue eyes were brimming with tears and his chin quivered. “I want to stay,” he repeated, jerking the coins in my direction. “We must pay for what we want,” he said in a soft voice.

I closed my eyes with a sigh, fighting sudden tears. I leaned forward and curled his fingers over the pennies, my hands trembling. “Not this time.”

He scowled, fresh tears escaping his eyes. “Why not?”

“Money cannot buy us everything we want. It can only buy things that are for sale.” My voice trembled. Charles had never seen me cry, and I didn’t want to start now. “Keep the pennies and buy a candy from the shop in Silton.”

He gave a small nod, retreating back to his bed and burrowing under the blanket.

I caught my breath in the corridor, squaring my shoulders. My emotions were not in their proper state, and seeing Owen while I was so discomposed wouldn’t be wise. I drew three deep breaths, tucking my sorrow away. Peter and Charles would recover. They were resilient like that.

I was the one who might not be strong enough.

I tugged my white gloves up high on my arms as I made my way down the staircase. The Kellaways and Everards stood together at the front door, with Alice, Edmund, and Miss Lyons waiting nearby. Miss Lyons wore an ivory gown covered in pleats and rosettes. Alice wore green, which suited her quite well. She greeted me with a smile.

My nerves spun wildly as I joined the carriage with Alice, Miss Lyons, and Edmund. I would have been nervous enough knowing it was my first ball, but knowing I would see Owen there made it far worse. There was so much I wanted to say to him—to clarify that I was not engaged to Mr. Baines, to thank him, to say goodbye—but taking the opportunity would put me far too close to him. Keeping my distance was necessary if I wanted to make it through the evening. I fixed my gaze out the dark window as the carriage rolled down the country road.

Alice nudged her brother. “Edmund. You must ask Miss Downing for her first dance.” Her eyes flashed with excitement. “She has been practicing all week, and dancing with you first might help ease her nerves.”

Edmund glanced at me. He had a curious look on his face. I stared at that look, trying to decipher what it meant. “I shall ask Miss Downing for her second dance.”

Alice frowned. “Why not the first?”

He leaned back with a shrug. “I know someone else who would like to be first.”

I stared at him in confusion. What did he know? Had Owen told him about my engagement…or about the reasons he had left Kellaway Manor? Did brothers confide in one another about matters of the heart? Edmund’s expression betrayed him. He did know something about me that he wouldn’t say aloud.

“Edmund! Who is it? You must tell us now.” Alice jabbed a finger at his arm.

He shifted away. “I am sworn to secrecy.”

Alice’s jaw hung slack as she jerked her gaze to me. I shrugged, hoping to convey that I was not aware of this secret.

The darkness in the carriage combined with the bumpy road made my stomach ill. When we finally turned onto the road leading to Willowbourne, I felt close to vomiting.

Edmund helped us down from the carriage, and I sucked in a deep breath of fresh air. The moment our feet touched the ground, our driver led the carriage away, leaving me with no method of escape.

Willowbourne loomed ahead, the countless windows glowing with candlelight. It was much grander than it had looked from the main road. It must have been at least three times as large as Kellaway Manor, but with the same golden stone. We passed the pond at the front of the house, the surface reflecting the stars like dark glass.

Many other guests were arriving at the same time, ascending the other side of the horseshoe staircase. We met in the middle, where the doors opened to invite us into the vestibule.

The walls were an earthy shade of pink, crowned with pure white plasterwork and stunning arches. Marble pillars upheld the grand ceiling, drawing my eye to the sparkling chandelier. It was already the most beautiful room I had ever seen, and I had only had one small glimpse of the estate.

Miss Lyons’s smile was more than a little predatory. She wanted this house, and I couldn’t blame her.

We followed the other guests until we reached the assembly room. I thought I had known what to expect when Owen had described its size, but the grandeur was far beyond my imaginings. The pastel green walls stretched up and up with elaborate mouldings, not an inch neglected. Gold trimmed all the windows, and even the railings of the mezzanine balconies overlooking the dance floor.

My senses were overwhelmed as all the gowns and musicians and feathered headdresses blended together. The glow of candlelight made everything shine and sparkle like the final moments of a beautiful dream, just before opening my eyes. It was fitting, for this was the final moment of the dream I had been living for the past several weeks. It was the grand finale—the final chapter—before the book was closed forever.

I recognized many faces from the garden party, but there were unfamiliar ones as well. The guests must have been shocked at receiving an invitation to Willowbourne, given the reputation Owen’s uncle had for being a bit of a recluse. It seemed they had all made a point to attend the ball wearing their finest attire.

I didn’t look too hard at all their faces. I was still far too afraid of seeing Owen’s among them.

Alice linked her arm through mine with a giddy smile. “Is it not breathtaking? What a perfect house at which to experience your first ball.”

The tension in my shoulders released and I nodded with a smile. “Indeed.”

“Not to worry, I will not leave your side until you are safely swept away for a dance.” She turned, and I followed her gaze to Mrs. Kellaway, who had just joined us. My stomach lurched with distaste as I saw who accompanied her.

Lady Pembury strode toward Charlotte with a smile, the feather in her hair stretching high with an elegant curve. She cast an indifferent glance in my direction as she passed, stopping beside her daughter with her back to me. Her skeletal shoulderblades poked out from the gold trim on the back of her gown.

Miss Lyons nodded discreetly when her mother said something, then they both glanced toward the center of the ballroom.

My heart gave a furious leap as I followed their gazes, and I looked away fast. Owen stood beside a few gentlemen, surveying the crowd.

“He’s coming this way,” Lady Pembury hissed. Miss Lyons stood up straighter.

Fortifying my heart and my resolve, I dared myself to look at him. Owen’s eyes found mine instantly, just as I had feared. I felt a tug on that blasted anchor he had dug into my heart, a connection between us that I had foolishly hoped our week apart would sever. A week was not enough to break it, not after I knew how it felt to kiss him. He was cruel to have given me yet another thing to grieve.

He wore a formal black jacket and white cravat, and his hair looked darker in the dim light. It was unfair how handsome he was, and how impassioned his eyes were tonight. I couldn’t name a single one of the emotions I saw, only that there were a great deal of them all blended together. He wasn’t smiling, and I found myself wishing that he would. It had been too long since I had seen his smile. I wanted it one last time.

He stopped a few paces away from me, but it was enough to make Lady Pembury frown.

“You came.” His soft voice pierced through my defenses. The admiration in his gaze made a blush creep up my neck.

I had to pause to collect my words. “I wouldn’t have missed it.”

He smiled, but I could see the pain behind his eyes. He must have wondered if I had read his letter. He hesitated for a brief moment. “May I have the honor of your first dance?”

My heart pounded. The significance of this being my first dance, at my very first ball, made it clear to me that there was no one else I would rather share it with.

“Yes,” I answered in a quiet voice.

I was likely a fool to indulge in such a forbidden thing. Our dance would haunt me forever, just like our kiss, his letter, and just like the broken pieces I saw in his eyes.

I sensed Lady Pembury’s dismay before I saw it written on her face. A wave of satisfaction made me stand up a little straighter.

“Dr. Kellaway,” Lady Pembury said in an abrupt voice, drifting toward us with Charlotte on her arm. “What a magnificent room this is! It competes with the very best in London and Bath combined.”

“I agree, my lady. My uncle was generous to share it with us all.”

She assailed him with questions about the other rooms of the house, all of which he answered politely. She strategically brought her daughter into the conversation, inching in front of me in such a way that her large feather blocked me from Owen’s view.

I felt Alice’s gaze on the side of my face. I glanced at her, desperately hoping my cheeks weren’t as flushed as they felt. She wore the same curious look Edmund had displayed in the carriage, but without quite as much certainty. Her puzzled gaze shifted to Owen, then back to me again.

To my relief, a gentleman approached her a few seconds later, asking for her first two dances. I didn’t recognize him, but he knew her by name.

As they spoke, I backed away, tucking myself behind Mr. and Mrs. Everard. I didn’t want to endure Alice’s scrutiny; it would only make me more uncomfortable. She desired Owen for Charlotte, and if she knew I had been in love with him all this time, I would feel even worse about the entire situation.

My regret over accepting Owen’s invitation raged inside me until it was time to begin the dance. Mrs. Everard nudged me forward as Owen stepped around Lady Pembury to find me.

I felt the daggers she shot in my direction as Owen led me to the dance floor.

My stomach fluttered as he stood across from me. There was nothing to obscure my view of him. There was nothing between us—nothing but space and air and unspoken words.

He bowed, and I curtsied.

“Don’t be nervous,” he said, just above a whisper.

Was he referring to this being my first dance, or that I was dancing with him specifically? Both played a major part in my nerves. I tried to think of him as Owen, my friend . Not Owen, the man who had kissed me senseless in the drawing room.

“I can’t help it,” I whispered. “I’ve never danced with anyone before.” I swallowed, allowing myself a small smile.

He stepped forward as the music began, taking my hand in his. “I’m nervous too.”

He must have been lying to make me feel better. He was never nervous. I threw him a questioning look.

“I’ve never danced with you before,” he said with a soft smile.

His smile pricked my heart, because I knew how difficult it must have been for him to do it. But I knew why he did. He wanted me to feel comfortable, and to enjoy my first dance without pitying him.

I wished he could know how I really felt. He didn’t know how keenly his touch affected me, and how his smile somehow made my heart lighter and heavier at the same time. He didn’t know how much I had missed him the past week, and how much I would miss him for the rest of my life.

My head spun as his arm slid around my waist. I remembered this dance from my lessons with Alice, and how it began with this pirouette. With our hands intertwined above my head, Owen led me in a circle, his eyes locked on mine. The violins echoed in the large room, the melancholy tune threatening to unravel me.

The other dancers moved with us in perfect harmony, but surely they didn’t feel as much turmoil as I did.

“Are you acquainted with Lady Pembury?” Owen asked as we stepped together.

I glanced in her direction, not surprised to see that she was watching me with a lifted chin and narrowed eyes. “Unfortunately.”

He laughed, sending a ripple through me, then said in a quiet voice, “Perhaps we should go fetch the acorns.”

My eyes rounded. “Was she?—”

“Yes. She was.” He gave a soft laugh. “A common victim of my mischief. Something that I cannot say I’m ashamed of.”

So Lady Pembury was the woman walking beneath the tree that day, ten years ago. I no longer regretted a single one of those acorns.

Owen held my hand tightly as we stepped together, then apart, and as I performed my own pirouette.

“I’m sorry I neglected to invite your betrothed,” he whispered as we stepped together. “I knew he would claim your first dance, and I was not in a generous mood.” His serious tone did nothing but unnerve me.

We switched sides as I turned, and the next steps demanded that I move down the line. My heart pounded, and my mind raced. I couldn’t plan my next words, not amid my attempts to dance correctly. I tried to appear weightless and graceful, as Alice had instructed, as each of the other gentleman passed the ladies down the line. A clasp of a hand, a pirouette, a polite smile.

I met Owen again, and we stepped together, our hands touching briefly, then moving apart.

“You were mistaken,” I said in a hushed voice.

We turned together, our hands interlocked behind our backs. He held my gaze, a crease entering his brow.

“I’m not engaged to Mr. Baines.” The confession spilled out so quietly I wondered if he had heard me. There was little time to explain before the dance would end. “It’s someone else…a man from Silton.”

Owen’s hands clasped mine as we stepped together, but not apart as we were meant to. He held me there, and I fell out of step with the others. I felt the weight of a million gazes as Owen suspended our dance, right there, in the middle of the room.

“From Silton?” His eyes searched my face with confusion as the final notes of the song rang through the air. The other dancers bowed and curtsied to their partners, but Owen still held my hands tight.

I nodded, but my face burned at the attention we were drawing. I wrenched my fingers away from his, curtsied, and strode as quickly as I could toward the nearest wall. If Owen respected my reputation, he wouldn’t follow me and continue making a scene.

I tried to appear calm as I sat in an empty chair. Two women near me whispered something behind their fans. I felt countless eyes shifting in my direction. Alice would likely scold me for deserting my chaperones, but I couldn’t bear to be in that room a moment longer. Surely there was a retiring room or some other place I could hide during the next dance.

So I stood, uncertain of my destination as I fled that glittering ballroom.