Page 5 of Mischief and Manors (Change of Heart #1)

CHAPTER 5

M y brow furrowed into a scowl.

After I had fallen from the tree I recovered quickly, but it was not among my fondest memories. Owen Kellaway did not exist among my fondest memories. After the tree incident, I had avoided him for the remainder of our visit, keeping to my room with a book or my dolls, trying to forget about that odious boy.

Seeing him now, ten years later, I knew that I must have never forgotten his face, because I could identify all the things that had changed. His hair was darker than the golden of my memory, but still lighter than brown. His jaw was much more solid, his brows and lashes dark.

His eyes had not changed. They were still blue, and they were still mischievous.

He hardly looked at me before pulling a chair close to Charles. “I assume this is the patient?”

“Y-yes.” I frowned at his abrupt tone.

His concerned gaze roamed Charles’s pale face, and he took his wrist to feel for his pulse. I sat silently, wondering why he hadn’t acknowledged me yet. Because he is atrocious, I reminded myself.

He must have felt the severity of my stare, because his gaze turned toward me. “Has he traveled far by coach before today?”

I was surprised by the direct question without any attempt at an introduction. “No. Today was his first time.”

Did he remember me from all those years ago? There was no way of knowing. It had been a short visit, and I had grown up a great deal since then. It would be better if he didn’t remember. I was embarrassed about the whole ordeal, and I had no wish to remind him of it.

He nodded and turned toward Charles again.

My eyes narrowed as I watched him bring a glass of liquid to Charles’s lips.

“What is that?” I inquired, unable to prevent a slight edge of distrust from creeping into my voice.

Owen turned his head abruptly. He folded his arms across his broad chest. “I can assure you that it isn’t poisoned.” His deep voice carried a hint of amusement.

Was I amusing to him? Well, then. I gathered my wits and looked him straight in the eye. “I don’t recall asking you if it was poisoned . I only want to know what it is that you are about to administer to him so I may give my approval.”

He raised one eyebrow. “I don’t understand what I have done to lose your trust so quickly.”

“I don’t understand why you refuse to tell me what is in that glass.” I felt my own eyebrow rise to match his. “Is it a tincture?”

He pressed his lips together. “No. It is a secret . Even to myself.” He brought the glass to his face and squinted at it closely. “I am fairly certain that it isn’t dangerous.”

My eyes widened.

He moved the glass to Charles. “I suppose there is only one way to find out.”

Before I knew what I was doing, I jumped from my seat beside Peter, reaching for the glass, trying to snatch it from Owen’s hand. A sharp, cutting pain reached my ribs at my sudden movement and bit my lip to keep from crying out. It was an old injury that still caused me pain.

Owen chuckled as he lifted the glass away from my grasp. “It’s water,” he said through his laughter.

I withdrew my hand and scowled at him. My cheeks burned with anger. How nefarious could he be? He had not changed a bit. In fact, he may have become worse than before.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed. “That was a cruel joke. But now, if you please, would you allow me to tend to this poor boy?” He made no effort to hide his amusement now. It gleamed in every feature of his face.

“No, actually. That is quite enough.” I lifted Charles and moved him to the other side of me. “I am capable of administering a glass of water to him myself. You may take your leave.”

Owen frowned, staring at me in silence for a long moment. “Who is your employer?”

I reared back in surprise. “My employer?” My cheeks burned. Did he think I was a nursemaid or nanny? My dress was plain and soiled, and my hair was pulled into a tight knot. It was possible that he could have mistook me as such. How humiliating. I hardened my scowl and stared directly at him. “These are my brothers. We traveled here today by invitation of your mother.”

His face fell. His eyes flickered over my face with recognition, and he set the glass of water on the tea table. “I didn’t know my mother had invited guests. The footman sent me with very little information. Forgive me, my manners are gone from me today.”

I was shocked to see that he looked truly apologetic. But then he gave a broad smile, causing a dimple to dent one of his cheeks. That was another thing that hadn’t changed. “It’s as if I’m fourteen years old again.”

I barely caught his wink.

My heart pounded a little harder. Did he remember me? While he was distracted, I took the glass of water and instructed Charles to take a sip.

When I looked up again, I found Owen’s gaze focused on me. “Tell me . . . have you ever climbed a tree?”

So. He did remember. But he wasn’t absolutely sure. I decided to make him wonder a little longer. “Of course I haven’t.” I tried to look absolutely appalled by the idea. “Perhaps a nanny or nursemaid would engage in such activities, but not a lady.” I gave him a pointed look.

It seemed to work. His knowing smile faltered, the change almost imperceptible. But he was still watching me. Could he tell I was lying? Finally he spoke again, changing the subject. “We have not given our introductions, have we?”

I lifted my chin. “We have not. But it seems I was beneath your notice, so I don’t think introductions are necessary.” I ran my thumb gently over Charles’s arm, comforting him and myself at the same time. I had never been so bold, especially with a handsome man. It was nerve-wracking. My bold interaction with Mr. Coburn had unleashed a monster.

Owen sighed. “That was my mistake. I was told only to rush to the drawing room to help ‘an ill boy.’ I made a poor assumption.”

I eyed him carefully. His ‘poor assumption’ was further evidence that I would fail miserably in London, and that Mr. Frampton truly was my only hope. I did not have the appearance of an elegant lady. I had the appearance of a girl who chased mischievous children around all day. That was far more accurate anyway.

Owen stood, moving in front of me at the settee. “My name is Dr. Kellaway. You, however, might remember me best by my Christian name, Owen.” He seemed to be searching my face for clues.

I put on a confused expression. “Remember you? I don’t believe we have met, doctor.”

His head tipped to one side. There was a faint smile on his lips that told me he was not entirely convinced. I held perfectly still, hoping he could not see in my eyes the same little girl who fell from the tree. He would find out who I was eventually, but for the moment, I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. First he had mistook me as a nursemaid, then he had proceeded to terrorize me with that glass of water. I could justify a little retaliation.

“What is your name?” he asked.

“Miss Millicent Durbin,” I replied casually, daring him with a look to question it. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Peter jerk his head to me. I begged him silently to keep quiet.

Owen’s smile grew as he reclaimed his seat. “That is not your name.”

“I find it awfully presumptuous that you claim to know better than me what my own name is.”

He pressed his lips together, his eyes brimming with laughter. He looked down at his boots. “I apologize, Miss Durbin .”

I crossed my arms and maintained my cool demeanor.

Charles reached out a finger and tapped Owen on the shoulder. “Doctor Kelly-fay, you said her name wrong.”

My stomach dropped.

Owen tipped his head back with a laugh, lifting an eyebrow in my direction. “Did I?”

Charles gave a quick nod before I could stop him.

Peter nodded in agreement. “Her name is not Millicent,” he said before snorting into giggles.

Now both Owen’s eyebrows were raised. “Hmm. How interesting.”

My face was hot under his gaze.

“I didn’t think you looked like a Millicent.”

I scolded myself for noticing how his smile moved him from ordinarily to absurdly handsome.

“Do you wish to disclose to me your actual name?” he asked.

“No, thank you.” I smoothed my hands over my gown, noticing the vomit that still stained the lower part of my skirts.

“You do seem much too old to be playing pretend,” he said.

I glanced up sharply. “You do seem much too old to be pestering a woman you only just met. Regardless of your assumption that I was a nursemaid, you should not have taunted me with that glass of water. I take the safety of my brothers very seriously.”

He looked down. “As you should, and I do apologize. But why do you refuse to tell me your name?”

I shrugged one shoulder, shifting my gaze to Charles who was looking much improved, observing the interaction with a dimpled grin and wide eyes.

“You cannot conceal it from me forever,” Owen said.

It was true, and I hated that he was right. But because it bothered him so much, I was going to conceal my identity for as long as possible.

He sighed, as if giving up for the moment, and turned his attention to my brothers. “Since I cannot know your sister’s name, may I ask your names?”

I noticed Peter sit up a little straighter. “My name is Peter and this is my brother Charles.”

“Peter!” Charles whined, his light brows drawing together. “I wanted to say my name!”

Owen laughed. “Peter, Charles, it is a pleasure to meet you both.”

They stared at Owen with quiet awe on their faces. Of course they were going to be fascinated by him. He was one of the only men they had ever spoken to. But I didn’t fancy the idea of this man becoming their exemplar.

“And since we are friends now, you may call me Owen.” He gave them each a warm smile. Distracted as I was, my thoughts were not clear when Owen turned to me and said, “And you may call me Owen too. After all, it is what you called me before.”

I shook my head. “We were children then, I couldn’t possibly—” I stopped myself, realizing my mistake too late.

Owen grinned in victory. “I knew it was you.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, blocking out his grin. I wanted to cover my ears too, because he was laughing.

“I am sincerely sorry about the tree,” he said.

My eyes flew open. “I cannot believe you forced me to do that. I was only eleven years old. I could have broken an arm or a leg or?—”

“But you didn’t,” he said through a laugh. “Remind me . . . what was it we were doing alone in that tree?” He threw me a wink.

“ You were throwing acorns at a woman passing below us.”

“Ah, yes, that was it.” He smiled at me teasingly, a sight that I sensed I would see more than once during our visit.

“You’re atrocious,” I said with a half-hearted glare.

“I’m atrocious too!” Charles exclaimed.

Peter pointed at himself with a serious look. “I’m more atrocious than Charles.”

“You are not!” Charles glared at him.

Owen laughed again and widened his eyes. “Well, if you two are atrocious, then it must be a very fine thing to be. Well done.”

These three would get along quite well. Too well. I doubted that Owen could help improve their behavior. His own behavior was still in need of improvement. I hadn’t even noticed Mrs. Kellaway enter the room again until I heard her voice. “How is Charles?” she asked Owen.

A young maid with dark hair stood beside her. I straightened myself on the settee and tried to appear more content than I felt.

“He seems to be feeling much better,” Owen said. “Being out of the carriage was a cure in itself.”

Charles smiled and nodded in affirmation.

“I am glad to hear it.” Mrs. Kellaway glanced at me. “May I show your brothers to their room?”

I gave a hesitant nod. I didn’t like to entrust them to any care besides my own, but Mrs. Kellaway’s kind countenance put me at ease. She took Charles by the arm and pulled him up from his place on the settee. She waved a hand for Peter to join them. When she turned to me again, she gestured at the young woman beside her. “Lizzie will show you to yours.”

The maid nodded and walked out the door to the entry hall to pick up my trunk. “Follow me,” Lizzie said with a smile, heading toward the staircase.

About halfway to the top, I heard another set of footfalls behind me.

“Miss Durbin?”

I turned my head to see Owen standing at the base of the staircase. My feet froze as he made his way up the steps toward me. Lizzie continued up the stairs, but stopped to wait for me at the top.

“Yes, doctor?”

He frowned. “We already had this discussion. I would prefer that you call me Owen.” He grinned and leaned casually against the banister, as if amused about something.

I stood in silence for a few seconds before awkwardness overtook me. “What are you looking at?”

He scrunched his face in disgust. “Something smells awful.”

I gaped at him. He must have noticed my complete shock, because he pointed at the large stain that Charles had inflicted on my dress. I forced a laugh. “Yes, I suppose I should change.”

“I suppose you should.”

“Is that all?” I asked in a flat voice. My head ached from the events of the day, and he was not making it any better.

“No. That’s not the only reason I followed you up here.”

“What is the other reason?”

“There are three reasons, actually.”

I raised my eyebrows, inviting, or rather, daring him to continue.

“The first reason, of course, was to inform you of the vomit of which you were abashedly unaware.” His eyes danced teasingly. “The second reason was because I noticed your sunburn.”

Of course he did. Exasperation rose in my chest. “I am aware that I should stay out of the sun, and that my complexion will suffer, and that I look like a boiled radish. I thank you for your concern.”

I turned to leave, but he stopped me, climbing up to the stair just below mine. He laughed. “You do not look like a boiled radish. The red is fading already. I wanted to offer you a potential remedy. I have plant ointments that might ease the discomfort and help heal the skin.”

I looked down, embarrassed that I had assumed he had come to lecture me. “Oh. That is all right. It doesn’t cause me discomfort.”

“You shouldn’t be ashamed, you know. There should be nothing wrong with a young lady enjoying a bit of sunshine every now and then.”

“Most people see many things wrong with that.”

A smile crept over his lips. “I hope you never try to be like most people . I find them excessively boring in comparison to you.”

I hardly knew how to respond. Was it flirtation or a harmless compliment? My throat was dry as I searched for the right words. He was still looking at me, and I felt a hot blush creep onto my cheeks and tingle on the tips of my ears. Unfortunately I was not accustomed to conversing with handsome gentlemen. I had never realized the effect one could have on me. It was bothersome.

“Hmm. I can see it now,” he said with a tilt of his head.

“See what?”

He leaned closer with a grin. “Boiled radish.”

My jaw dropped and I stepped back in outrage. What a cruel tease! As infuriated as I was, my embarrassment was equal. He had noticed my blush, and now it was burning even hotter.

He chuckled to himself as he withdrew my bonnet from behind his back. “My third reason. Unless your brothers have a taste for female fashion, I believe this is yours.”

I reached forward and snatched it. I remembered leaving it on the cushion beside me in the drawing room. Owen continued to laugh, but I was not amused. Did he not realize what an exhausting day I had just endured? Emotion clawed at my throat. I wanted to sleep or cry or disappear.

Why could Owen not have been one of Mrs. Kellaway’s children who were away for the summer? He was going to ruin my plans for my beautiful, wonderful trip. I just knew it. He would view me as an amusement for him to toy with, tease, and flirt with. Who knew what other mischief he had up his sleeve? He hadn’t changed one bit since the day he had dumped those acorns on that woman. Except I was his new victim.

He would help accomplish one thing though: He would help me see Mr. Frampton’s virtues with fresh appreciation. After enduring weeks in Owen’s disagreeable company, my decision to accept Mr. Frampton’s proposal would be much easier.

“Well, Millicent , it was a pleasure to meet you,” Owen said.

I didn’t correct him. In fact, I didn’t say a word as he sauntered back down the staircase.