Page 6 of Mischief and Manors (Change of Heart #1)

CHAPTER 6

A fter lingering for a few frustrated moments, I stepped—or rather stomped—up to where Lizzie stood waiting for me.

“Are you unwell, miss?”

“No,” I said in a quick voice, my mind muddled with anger. My brothers were not going to have anything to do with that man if I could help it. I would keep them as far away from Owen and his influence as possible. If they observed him while we were here, they would return worse than before. Aunt Ruth would not keep them, and nor would Mr. Frampton. I had been here less than an hour, and already my hopes were dashed.

Lizzie must have read my thoughts. “He really isn’t as disagreeable as he seems.”

I was surprised by her chosen description of ‘disagreeable’ for a member of the family she worked for. If Aunt Ruth had ever caught word of one of her servants speaking ill of her (which I had witnessed on many occasions) they would have been dismissed instantly.

Recognizing her folly, Lizzie scrambled to redeem herself. “Believe me, miss, he’s actually quite a respectable gentleman.” Her eyes widened in sincerity.

I cast her a skeptical look. “I have yet to see that side of him.”

“I’m certain you will.”

“Doubtful,” I mumbled under my breath as she began walking down the wide corridor.

She stopped at a door halfway down. “Your bedchamber, miss.” She threw the doors open and stepped aside, allowing me to lead the way into the room. I stopped in surprise. It was at least three times the size of my bedchamber at Oak Cottage. The lofty windows, draped in gold curtains, framed a breathtaking prospect of the grounds and thick woods behind the home. On the wall beside them was a vanity and ivory chair, with a four poster bed and writing desk on the opposite side of the room.

“Lizzie,” I turned around, stunned, “I cannot possibly?—”

She flashed a reassuring smile. “I was instructed to prepare the finest guest rooms in the house for you and your brothers.”

I walked to the bed and sat down, wringing my fingers together. I swallowed hard against the urge to refuse the accommodations. “Please send my gratitude to Mrs. Kellaway.”

“There will be no need for that.”

My eyes flew up at the sound of Mrs. Kellaway’s voice. She stood in front of Lizzie with a broad smile. My spine straightened to match hers.

“It is the very least I can do,” she said as she walked over to the writing desk. She moved the chair in front of me and sat down.

“Mrs. Kellaway, this room is beautiful, but my brothers and I are quite accustomed to—lesser accommodations. This is hardly necessary.”

She shook her head with a laugh. “Would you have me place you below stairs? It is an honor to have the children of my dearest friends as my guests. You must allow me to spoil you just a little.”

I looked down at my lap, a smile tugging on my lips. “Well, thank you. You are too kind.”

“It is nothing.” She smoothed her auburn hair, clasping her hands together and leaning forward. “Now tell me, what brings you here today of all days? I assumed that my invitation had been ignored or rejected, so you can imagine my delight at your arrival.”

I took a deep breath. “My aunt sent us. She insisted that we see a new piece of England and experience a change of scenery. It was very kind of her.” I smiled with as much cheer as I could manage. It wasn’t a complete lie. I certainly couldn’t tell her Aunt Ruth’s true purpose for sending us here. Mrs. Kellaway shouldn’t have to be burdened by it, or by any knowledge of our aunt’s true character.

“Remind me, what is your aunt’s name?” she asked.

“Mrs. Ruth Filbee.”

“Oh, yes. We have met.” Her face scrunched with distaste. “You say she sent you here…as an act of kindness?”

I nodded, upholding my smile with effort.

Mrs. Kellaway gave a slow nod. “I see. How…uncharacteristic of her.”

I decided it would be best to ignore that. So I just continued smiling like a ninny until I noticed Mrs. Kellaway’s expression turn solemn. She looked down at her hands and wrung them together, turning her knuckles white. Her sudden change of mood surprised me. A sheen of moisture pooled in her eyes.

“I do want to apologize sincerely for inviting your parents to visit that day.” Her voice cracked. She swiped a tear from her lower lashes before it could spill. “Had I not, they might not be…” she struggled to finish her sentence.

I remembered what she had written in her letter about feeling responsible for the accident. “No, Mrs. Kellaway, there is no need to apologize. Please, do not blame yourself.”

If Mrs. Kellaway blamed herself, then I could very well blame myself. I swallowed against the emotion in my throat.

She looked up, seeking reassurance in my eyes. “You don’t blame me?”

“Of course not.”

She relaxed visibly, as if a tremendous weight had been lifted from her shoulders. “I cannot convey to you how much those words mean to me. Thank you.” She exhaled sharply and wiped a stray tear from her cheek. “I hope you have been well all these years. Do you enjoy living with your aunt?”

I hated lying to her, but she was too kind, and I knew she would worry if she knew just how awful it was. I lied only partially once again. “It is sufficient. We have what we need.”

She studied my face for a long moment. “Please know that you and your brothers are welcome to stay here as long as you would like.”

I wanted to stay forever. This place was beautiful and Mrs. Kellaway’s kindness was as reassuring as it was unfamiliar. For the first time in years, I felt calm. Safe. But my ears captured a slight hint of obligation in Mrs. Kellaway’s voice.“I don’t want to be a burden,” I said in a quiet voice.

She shook her head. “You could never be. I have been hoping that you would come! I wanted you to come. Will you be staying at least the remainder of the summer?”

I nodded with a smile. “If that is all right. I don’t wish to trespass on your hospitality.”

“You could not trespass even if you wanted to, my dear. It is a very large house. There is plenty of space for everyone to enjoy.”

“Besides your son, will I meet any other members of your family?” I asked. Hopefully the rest of the family was more like Mrs. Kellaway and less like Owen.

“At the moment, my parents are keeping me company here. They are in town today, but you will meet them this evening. My husband is away with my eldest son Edmund, my daughter Alice is visiting a friend at a nearby estate. My youngest, Simon, is studying at Oxford. My entire family, besides Simon, will be returning in a fortnight or so.”

Oh. I hadn’t realized they were returning so soon. “You must promise to tell me if we make your home overcrowded,” I said. “I know we accepted your invitation later than planned.”

Mrs. Kellaway laughed. “There are more than twenty rooms. It will not be too crowded.”

My brows lifted. Twenty?

“While you are here, you and your brothers should enjoy the house and the grounds. You will love it here. Please, don’t hesitate to ask me—or Owen—for anything you need.”

I thanked her with a genuine smile. But I had no intention of asking Owen for anything.

“I have assigned Lizzie to be your maid during your stay,” she said, throwing a glance in Lizzie’s direction.

My head spun at the thought of having my own maid. It was proper, and if I was going to spend the summer living in this elegant, perfect house, I ought to make an attempt at being elegant myself, no matter how difficult it proved to be.

I threw a thankful smile in Lizzie’s direction just as a scream split the air from the main floor. I jumped. Mrs. Kellaway leaped to her feet.

“What was that?” I asked, my voice panicked. Images of my brothers working mischief led by Owen flooded my mind.

“I don’t know.” She cast me a worried glance. She hurried from the room and I followed, praying that Peter and Charles didn’t have anything to do with it.

We raced through the corridor and down the stairs. The shrieking continued—it was the voice of a woman. I cringed as the sound of mischievous giggling traveled into earshot. “That’s my brothers.”

Mrs. Kellaway frowned. “I told them to stay in their room.”

That certainly didn’t mean they would listen. I raced ahead of Mrs. Kellaway and followed in the direction of the sounds. I rounded a corner and found that the giggles were coming from what appeared to be the kitchen.

I heard a particularly loud, wicked giggle followed by a horrified screech. Oh, my . Even I hadn’t known Charles was capable of sounding that devious.

I burst through the door, hoping that my interference would tame whatever mischievous rant my brothers were in. As soon as I stepped into the room, I stopped, perplexed, staring at the scene before me. A petite woman—I assumed she was the cook—stood backed into a corner. Peter and Charles stood in front of her, each holding a steaming hot pan.

“We want food!” Peter pleaded. “We don’t want to wait for dinner.”

The cook tried to move, but my brothers held the hot pans closer.

I ran through the door, apologizing frantically to the woman. My brothers turned around in surprise. I snatched the pans from their hands, returning them to the stove with the other pots. “What on earth are you doing?” I snapped. My voice shook with panic.

Peter looked down at his feet. “We’re hungry.”

“That does not give you reason to torment this woman!” I lowered my voice only slightly. “If you act this way while you are here, you know how Aunt Ruth will punish you. Do you understand? Apologize to her. Now!” I turned to set the pans down and saw Mrs. Kellaway and Owen standing in the doorway. My face burned with mortification. I had hoped they wouldn’t witness such horrific behavior at all, especially not on our first day.

“I am very sorry,” I said. “I can usually prevent this sort of behavior. I-I should not have left them unattended.” I glanced at the cook who was clutching her chest and leaning against the wall. I turned to Peter and Charles. “Go on. Apologize.”

Charles bunched his sleeves into his hands and followed Peter to the corner. Peter’s cheeks were ruddy as he hung his head. I found it amazing how quickly they could transform from devious to shameful.

“I’m sorry,” they said together, glancing back at me for approval. I nodded and gestured for them to come to me.

“Now apologize to Mrs. Kellaway for tormenting her cook.”

“We are sorry for tormenting your cook,” Peter said quietly.

Mrs. Kellaway stepped forward, a pained look on her face. I cringed. If there was anything that could make her reconsider allowing us to stay, it was this. She met each of their gazes in turn. Several seconds passed. I nearly drowned in the silence. “You mustn’t ever do that again,” Mrs. Kellaway said in a firm voice. “It is far too dangerous.”

They both nodded.

“Do we still get food?” Charles asked. His question earned a laugh from Owen, but Mrs. Kellaway’s face was still stern. Mine was still as red as a strawberry. I didn’t dare look at Owen.

“I thought you were feeling ill,” Owen said, raising a teasing eyebrow at Charles.

Charles patted his belly. “I got better.”

Owen’s eyes glinted with amusement. “Yes, it appears you did. I will find something for you boys to eat.”

“No,” I protested. “I will do it.”

Owen’s gaze shifted to me. “Not to worry. I will find something for you as well.”

I glared at him. Was he assuming I was incapable? I had been caring for my brothers for the past five years on my own. “Thank you, but I’m not hungry.”

“Are you certain? Hunger can often have adverse effects on one’s mood, for example, making one more easily provoked.” His lips twitched upward.

Mrs. Kellaway interrupted before I could respond. “Owen.” She stared at him harshly. “Allow Miss Downing to prepare their food if that is what she wishes. She is our guest.”

“We could do it together,” he suggested, throwing me a persuasive smile.

“That sounds like a suitable compromise,” Mrs. Kellaway said.

There was no polite way to refuse, so I mumbled, “very well,” in a tone that was sure to give Owen satisfaction. I wanted to scrape the grin off his face.

Mrs. Kellaway escorted the cook from the room before waving me forward. I hesitated to leave my brothers with Owen, but they still seemed fascinated by him. I kept one eye on them as I joined Mrs. Kellaway by the door. Her voice was just a whisper. “I heard you mention something concerning about your aunt…that she might punish your brothers?”

Drat . I took a slow breath. “I told you a bit of a lie upstairs,” I confessed. “The true reason our aunt sent us here is because she was overwhelmed by my brothers’ behavior. She told me if they did not return well-behaved she would send them to an orphanage in London.” I debated telling her about my proposal to put her mind at ease, but stopped myself. I didn’t want to breathe a word of it to anyone. It felt like a deep secret, and I was still sorting out my feelings on the matter. “I…I don’t know if my aunt was serious in her threats, but I do want my brothers to improve their behavior.”

Mrs. Kellaway’s face fell before her brow contracted with anger. “How dare she make such dreadful threats to two young children! Based on my first impression of her, I confess it does not surprise me that she would be so wicked. Fortunately, I have plenty of experience in the matter of improving impish behavior.” Her eyes flickered to Owen. “We will sort this out. Not to worry. We will ensure that Peter and Charles meet your aunt’s requirements before you leave here.”

“They must,” I agreed. It was a relief to have an ally and confidant. “I am going to do everything I can.”

“You need not do it alone.” Mrs. Kellaway’s face lit up and she turned abruptly. “Owen, Come here!” She waved him over and turned to me with wide eyes. “I know precisely what they need. Your father was a great man and it is a shame that they didn’t have the privilege of knowing him. I think all your brothers need is a bit of guidance from a gentleman.”

I did not like where this was going.

Owen stepped up beside us. “Yes, Mother?”

“Annette and I must ask a favor of you,” Mrs. Kellaway said.

I found myself shaking my head. I didn’t want to be included in her request.

“Peter and Charles are in need of an instructor to help them become well-behaved little gentlemen while they are here. It should not be very difficult. Your example alone should be enough, but please take this matter seriously.”

I squeezed my hands into fists. I wanted to protest, but couldn’t find the words.

Owen nodded with a smile, placing one hand over his heart. “I too was once reformed. I would be glad to help.”

How could Mrs. Kellaway not see through his act? Why had I not kept this to myself? My plan to avoid Owen would be much more difficult if he was now my brothers’ instructor.

“I’ll leave the matter in your hands then,” Mrs. Kellaway said. “It is imperative that you succeed.” She turned to leave the room, but stopped to speak one last time. “Dinner will be in two hours, so keep that in mind when giving food to the boys. Soon the servants will need to resume preparations.”

I watched helplessly as the door swung closed behind her.

Owen’s voice prickled over my spine. “Come now, Annette. I thought you were the one who insisted that we do this together.”

I froze. His mother had given away my Christian name, and now he thought he could address me so improperly? I turned around. “Call me Miss Downing. And before we fetch any food for my brothers, I want to know how you plan to help improve their behavior when yours is…questionable.”

He frowned. “Questionable?”

I shrugged. “I should like to know if you are qualified to be their instructor or not.”

Owen leaned against the table and folded his arms. “I plan to keep them on two very short leashes and bring them with me everywhere I go. My constant presence will turn them into perfect angels.”

Could he ever be serious? I walked over and stood behind my brothers, casting Owen an exasperated look. “In that case, I will speak with your mother about dismissing you from your duty.”

He chuckled. “What is wrong with leashes?”

I considered his wry grin. “They are not dogs.”

“Have you tried it before?”

“No. I am not that barbaric.”

He laughed before finally responding seriously. “Why is their behavior in such desperate need of improvement? Most young boys have an impish side. I don’t think there is a way to banish it completely.”

I took a deep breath. “Our guardian—our aunt—requires that they become well-behaved before we return home.”

Owen watched me carefully. “Was that her purpose in sending you here?”

“Yes.”

He appeared to be deep in thought, but didn’t pry any further. Instead he asked, “How are their dinner manners?”

“In need of improvement.”

My brothers exchanged a grin.

“Then we can begin tonight at dinner,” Owen said in a nonchalant voice. Before I could speak again, he returned his attention to my brothers. “What are you hungry for?” He turned to rummage in the cupboard behind him. “Bread, pears, oranges, and oh . . .” he grinned slyly, “almond biscuits.”

“Yes!” they exclaimed in unison.

“I thought so.” Owen grabbed the jar of biscuits. He looked at me expectantly with that teasing glint in his eye. “You said you wanted to help me.”

I walked over and snatched the jar from him. “I’m surprised that you cannot open a jar without assistance,” I said, unlatching the top.

“Why are you surprised?” he asked in a flirtatious voice. He folded his arms, as if to draw attention to them.

“Because you are a grown man.” I pulled two biscuits from inside the jar, handing them to Peter and Charles. “Although I could be convinced otherwise.”

Owen’s eyes widened, but he looked more amused than insulted. “I see I have already done something to earn your dislike.”

I gave him a passive glance. Perhaps I was being too harsh. “I would not call it dislike.”

He took a step toward me, reaching inside the jar I held. “What would you call it then?” He withdrew a two biscuits, taking a bite of one.

“Caution.” I met his gaze. “I’m not certain I want my brothers to learn from you.”

His brow twitched. For a moment, guilt poked at my heart. Had I truly offended him this time?

“Perhaps my own behavior is still in need of improvement,” he said with a sigh. “I’m sorry to have given you such a poor first impression of my character. I will do all I can to change your mind.”

Oh.

His sincere eyes gazed into mine, completely disarming my attack. Was he referring to his first impression ten years ago, or his first impression today? That was a very important distinction.

Owen handed me one of his biscuits. “Would you like one?”

At his offer I realized that I hadn’t eaten anything since our midday stop. They did look delicious. I was about to accept, but then my stomach growled loudly in its own response.

Owen’s eyes widened in a mixture of surprise and amusement. “That is answer enough.”

My face burned, an embarrassed laugh slipping past my lips.

“I’ve finally earned a laugh,” he said with a victorious look.

I wiped the smile from my face. “Do not congratulate yourself. We Downings laugh very easily.” I raised my eyebrows at Peter and Charles, who were laughing in affirmation of my words. They had already finished their biscuits, so I looked again to Owen. I was surprised to see him staring at me, a thoughtful look behind his eyes. Why did he always do that? I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, eager to escape it.

I took a bite of my almond biscuit, wiping a stray crumb from my lower lip as I stared at the floor. “Well. I suppose we are finished here. Thank you for your help.”

I glanced up. The intensity of Owen’s eyes had softened. “I have only one more question.”

“What?”

His amused smile returned. “Why are you still covered in vomit?”

My gaze shot down to my dress and I laughed, realizing to my dismay that I still hadn’t changed. Owen laughed too, and I noticed just how much I liked the sound. His laugh was low and rather contagious. Peter laughed alongside him, watching his every move. It seemed that Owen had already influenced the boys without even trying.

I still didn’t trust that he would transform their behavior in such a short time, but did I have any choice but to try?