Mischief and Manors

Home > Other > Mischief and Manors > Page 12
Mischief and Manors Page 12

by Ashtyn Newbold


  “If it will make you accept my apology, then yes, I am.”

  I pressed my lips together to hide my smile and forced a thoughtful expression onto my face. I couldn’t let him think that I was so willing to accept. “You give yourself far too many reasons to apologize.”

  He gave a solemn half smile. “Another one of my faults. But a fairly new one. I don’t think my manners have ever been in such disarray as they are when I’m with you. But still, I have no plausible excuse for my behavior.” He looked at me intently, seeking forgiveness in my eyes.

  I hesitated for several seconds. “Fine. I forgive you.” It would have been impossible not to.

  His half smile grew into a full smile. “Thank you.” Then he turned and walked over to my brothers who were busy splashing their fingers in a fountain. He caught their attention by sitting down on the edge of the fountain beside them.

  “Now. Part two of your lesson: what do you suppose a lady likes more than anything in the world?”

  Charles looked up, the sunlight reflecting off his golden curls. “Her brothers?” he guessed, earning a chuckle from Owen.

  “In the circumstance of your sister, then I believe you are right.” He winked and folded his arms. “But your sister isn’t like most ladies in that regard.”

  Unable to prevent myself from inquiring what exactly he meant, I walked over to the fountain and took a seat beside Peter. I leaned forward and cast Owen a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”

  “You know what is truly important,” he said. “You don’t obsess over beauty, fashion, money, or titles. You care about your family, the well-being of others. In the few days that I have known you, I haven’t once seen you worry about yourself. I haven’t once seen you try too hard to be elegant and refined. You know who you are, and you won’t let anyone distort that. I have never met a young lady like you, Annette.” He drew a breath. “And I can’t imagine that I ever will.”

  He was looking at me with such a strange expression that I had to look down. It bothered me how easily he could make me blush. I had found pride in my ability to brush off any kind words from any gentleman without any response but a curt “thank you.” But Owen wasn’t just any gentleman. I couldn’t deny it.

  I shrugged and dared myself to look at him. “I have never had a desire to be like other young ladies. In fact, I find most of them very annoying.”

  He threw his head back and laughed his infectious laugh. “And there we have another way you differ from them. You speak your mind.”

  I scowled half-heartedly. “Not always.”

  “Oh? Then is there something you wish to say to me?” The insinuating tone in his voice made another blush creep up my cheeks.

  “Hmm. It appears that there is. Charles, Peter, cover your ears for a moment.” He leaned forward and winked at me.

  I gasped in outrage and he laughed, seemingly very pleased with my reaction to his teasing or flirting or whatever it was. “You’re awful,” I said with a scowl.

  His eyes widened and a grin lifted his lips. “Oh, I see you have graduated from atrocious.”

  A small laugh escaped me and I sat back in surrender. He was immune to my insults by now.

  Owen turned his attention to my brothers again, resuming his tutorial tone of voice. “Anyhow, the answer I was looking for, when I asked you what a lady likes more than anything in the world, is … compliments.”

  Peter’s brow furrowed. “What is a compliment?”

  “To compliment someone is to flatter them with kind words. To tell them of something that you like about them, whether it be of their appearance or conduct. But don’t be mistaken into thinking that you should pay a compliment to every pretty girl that passes by. Give compliments only to those who truly deserve them.”

  He stood up and walked in front of me where I sat on the edge of the fountain. His body acted as a shield from the sunlight, trapping me in his shadow. I looked up at him. Nervousness fluttered in my stomach for a reason I couldn’t name.

  “Now, I know your sister doesn’t particularly like compliments,” he paused to shoot me a relentless smile, “but she is certainly one who deserves them.” He waved my brothers over. “So, come here and practice your compliments. You may say something about her beauty, her kindness, or whatever it is you like about her.”

  I watched with amusement as Charles trudged to his feet and stifled a giggle. There was no possible way that he would take this seriously. He stopped beside Owen in front of me and flashed me a gap-toothed smile. “Your eyes are green.” He giggled and looked at Owen for approval.

  Owen laughed and knelt beside Charles on the grass. He was facing me, his line of sight directly even with mine. He looked back at Charles briefly. “Almost. But you must tell her more about her eyes.” He took a slow breath and moved his gaze to me. “Tell her how beautiful they are, and how they make the rest of the world disappear. How any man would have to be blind not to lose himself within them.”

  I scolded my heart for how wildly it was jumping around in my chest. This is only another demonstration. Surely he is not serious, I told my heart.

  Charles giggled again. “I don’t want to say that!”

  Owen didn’t move his gaze from my face. “Don’t worry. That one was from me.”

  As much as I willed myself not to blush, I couldn’t control it. How did one respond to that? Thank you? I certainly couldn’t let him assume that I welcomed his flirting—for I was now quite sure that was what he was doing. I clasped my hands together tightly in my lap and pretended to be deeply interested in them.

  Owen finally looked away from me and I could stop holding my breath. He patted Charles on his back. “Give it another try.”

  I forced a smile to my face to hopefully diminish my blush. Charles looked up and chewed on his lip, apparently struggling to find another kind thing to say. After a few moments, his face lit up and he said quickly, “You are the kindest sister I ever met.”

  My smile grew and I pinched his chubby cheek as I had done so many times. “Thank you, Charles.”

  Owen nodded approvingly. “Well done.” Then he waved a hand for Peter to stand.

  Once in front of me, Peter grinned and, with much less of a struggle than Charles, said, “You are very funny, and you have a pretty smile.”

  Owen slapped him on the back. “Two compliments at once, well done. You are a natural.” He paused. “Although … you might add more detail to your description of her smile.”

  My stomach lurched. Now the teasing would begin in earnest.

  He moved even closer to me, kneeling on the grass as he was, until he was so close that I could smell the fresh scent of his jacket and all the masculine smells I remembered of my father—the woods, fresh air, and that familiar smell that I called sunshine.

  “But first, you must take her hand,” he said. His eyes were locked on mine as he spoke. He reached out and uncurled my right hand from my left, and held it between both of his.

  My heart very nearly escaped my chest.

  “The simple touch of a hand will help convey the earnestness of your words.” His gaze flickered back to Peter quickly before settling on my face again. “But the true task lies with your words. For your words must convey the earnestness of your heart.”

  I felt my cheeks grow warm. My hand was starting to sweat in his.

  He slowly drew a breath and released it. “As for Annette’s smile, you might add that it is one of the rarest and most beautiful kind. It is the kind that can lift any spirit and erase any doubt. One glance at a smile like that and any reason had for sorrow is forgotten. It can charm, it can tease, it can tempt. It can compete for a man’s heart unknowingly. And it will always win.”

  My blush was too hot for him not to have noticed it by now. If he was going to continue speaking, he would have to do it without looking at my face. I quickly dropped my gaze to my lap and held perfectly still. Why wouldn’t he stop? Couldn’t he see that his words were very unnerving to me? And good hea
vens, what were Peter and Charles thinking of all this? Surely they didn’t understand as I did that Owen was not serious. Silence stretched for longer than I expected. I definitely could not think of a time that I had felt more awkward than I did in this moment. Or rather, these moments.

  When he spoke again, his voice sent a ripple through the air so tangible I thought I could reach out and touch it. “A humble lady,” he began, “may still doubt the truth of your words. She may require further assurance of your earnestness. In such a case … ,”

  I glanced up just as he shifted my hand in his. Then he lifted it slowly and pressed his lips against the back of it. My breath refused to come. Chills spread through my entire arm.

  His lips lingered there for a second longer and then he raised his head, looking into my eyes again. “In such a case she may need a kiss to finally convince her.”

  I wanted to glare at Owen, but my defenses were uncharacteristically weak. All I could do was sit in the proceeding quiet, willing my heartbeat to slow and my cheeks to cool. Owen’s eyes were serious, but slowly a ghost of a smile built on his lips, working to belie his eyes. Surely he was not serious. Certainly.

  To my relief, Peter released a giggle that sounded deafening as it pierced the taut silence. “I will never do that!” he exclaimed between giggles.

  I exhaled sharply in what sounded like a failed attempt at a laugh. My hands were shaking and my heart refused to calm itself. I couldn’t let Owen have such an effect on me! He wanted a reaction, so I needed to give him the opposite.

  Slipping my hand from his, I glanced at Peter, who was giggling wildly. At least somebody thought Owen’s remarks were amusing. I smiled and took a steadying breath before saying, “So Peter, all you ought to do is tell Aunt Ruth what a lovely smile she has, and she will be so flattered that she won’t even imagine punishing you.”

  He jerked back in disgust. “But her smile is not lovely!”

  “Charles? Perhaps you should tell her, then.”

  He widened his eyes and shook his head. “Never.”

  I laughed and was surprised that I didn’t hear a laugh from Owen. With a lighter mood in the air, I sneaked a glance at him. He was still looking at me in his penetrating way, but it was only for a second longer.

  He drew a deep breath and flashed his familiar smile and when he laughed it seemed like a delayed reaction. “Annette is right. Flatter your aunt, and she will love you so much that she will give you a big, wet kiss on your head every night.” The teasing gleam in his eye was back.

  A loud laugh bubbled from me as I watched Peter and Charles’s reaction. They reared back in disgust and shook their heads, absolutely revolted.

  Owen stood and put a hand on each of their shoulders. “Very well,” he sighed. “Just a small kiss.”

  Charles stepped away from Owen, giggling and shaking his head vigorously. Peter threw Owen’s hand off his shoulder and said, “No, no, no. Disgusting.”

  Owen laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m teasing. Although, I do not know your aunt, so I suppose it could happen.”

  I shook my head along with my brothers. “No. Our aunt wouldn’t willingly go near any of us with affection. No matter what kind things are said to her.”

  I meant it as a lighthearted comment, but I saw a flash of sadness in Owen’s eyes as he looked at my brothers, then at me. But he didn’t say anything about it. Instead, he cleared his throat and said, “Do you boys have any questions?”

  They shook their heads.

  “Good. Now I want you to listen carefully. If there is one thing that I want you to remember from this lesson, it is this: Never mistreat a lady. Ever.”

  My brothers stared at him in awe, surely committing every single word to memory.

  “Not with insults, not with physical harm. Do you understand?” Owen’s voice was soft, but had a firmness that could not be argued.

  Peter and Charles each gave a dignified nod that seemed to satisfy him.

  “Now for your assignment. I want each of you to give a compliment to Grandmother, and my mother, Mrs. Kellaway, today.”

  Peter and Charles nodded in agreement. I was somewhat surprised to see how excited they seemed to be, as if it were an exciting secret mission that they were allowed to be a part of, instead of what they would have usually seen as a boring assignment.

  “Can we do it now?” Charles asked.

  Owen waved a hand toward the house. “Go on.”

  Their smiles grew and they raced off across the lawn. I turned toward Owen, who was now sitting beside me on the fountain. He was grinning as he watched them run, and my heart warmed a little to see it.

  “Thank you for doing that,” I said. “They obviously enjoyed every moment.”

  He returned my smile. “I enjoyed myself too.” His gaze went back to Peter and Charles who were already halfway to the house. He was watching them with a look that cried out affection in every feature of his face. “They are good boys,” he said. “Amazing boys. You are raising them better than anyone else could have, and I hope you know that.”

  Something inside me lifted at his words. Something heavy and painful that had been aching for so long. “Do you really think so?”

  “Without a doubt. Don’t listen to anyone that tells you otherwise.”

  I thought of the pie man, Mr. Coburn, and Aunt Ruth. Had I listened to them? A small lump made its way up to my throat and I had to swallow hard to get rid of the feeling. “Thank you.” My voice cracked.

  He gave me a look so gentle that it felt as if he had wiped away the tears I felt within me, all with that one look. I wondered if I actually cried, if he would wipe away the real tears too. I hoped he would.

  I promptly stopped myself. That could and would never happen. I had promised myself long ago that I wouldn’t cry again. And I intended to keep that promise. So I stuffed the emotions down into my heart, as deeply as I could. But it felt as though everything that I had buried deep within my heart was coming too close to the surface—dangerously close. And I wondered suddenly with a strike of fear if anything else would even be able to fit.

  “Would you like to take a walk?” Owen’s voice broke into my thoughts.

  I gave him a grateful smile and nodded. A walk would be a nice distraction. So I stood and took his arm without hesitation.

  We stepped out of the water gardens and started toward the west side of the grounds. It was a hot day, but the soft breeze was enough to keep cool. By now, my bonnet had driven me completely mad, so I slipped it off and held it instead, enjoying the warm feeling of the sun on my face. The last signs of my sunburn had finally faded, and I was grateful to be able to comfortably enjoy the sun again.

  “Are you ready for my first question?” Owen asked with a crooked smile.

  Oh, no. I had nearly forgotten about my “payment.” Actually, I remembered quite clearly, but was hoping that he had forgotten. I should have known he wouldn’t forget something like that. My stomach fluttered, but I tried to sound calm.

  “I suppose,” I said. I was proud of how normal my voice sounded.

  He looked heavenward and mused, “Hmm … what shall I ask you?”

  I stopped walking and turned to him with a look of surprise. “You haven’t already planned a question?”

  “Oh, I have. I was only attempting to build suspense.” He flashed his teasing smile.

  I shot him a scowl, making him chuckle. My stomach was fluttering even more now that I knew he had planned the question. That meant it must have been a personal one that I wouldn’t want to answer. I swallowed my worries. It will be fine. I don’t have to tell him anything I don’t want to.

  We started walking again, my heart beating faster with every step. Finally Owen said, “Very well, I will ask my question. Don’t worry, it is an easy one. I want to know, Annette, why do you despise the color pink?”

  My stomach dropped. This was certainly not an easy question. I turned to him with the most convincing look I could muster. “It simply isn’t pleasin
g to my eye.”

  He lifted an eyebrow in deep skepticism.

  I cringed. I should not have entertained the idea that he would accept an evasive answer like that.

  “I can see it’s much more than that,” he said. “You seemed repulsed by it. You looked almost … afraid of that rose I gave you.”

  Oh, yes. The rose. I drew a deep breath and looked at the rose garden up ahead. Could he read my mind? Is that how he always knew the most personal questions to ask me? I cleared my throat. “It is my least favorite color, and it always has been. Nothing more.” I looked up at him, hoping to convince him with the false sincerity in my eyes. It didn’t work.

  He tipped his head and gazed into my eyes for a long moment. “You’re lying.”

  “What?” I asked, momentarily taken aback. “No, I’m not.”

  He smiled knowingly. “You are. And you are terrible at it, by the way.”

  “I am not!”

  “Most people are. It’s simple to see once you discover how to sort out their lies.”

  “And how do you sort out their lies?” My voice came out heavy with doubt.

  “Everyone does something that gives them away.” He said it as if he wanted to end the subject right there. Perhaps that would have been best, but my curiosity tugged at me, forcing me to inquire further.

  “Well, what do I do?” I tried to keep my voice casual.

  He turned to me with an amused expression. “Are you admitting that you’ve lied to me?”

  “If you’re the expert you claim to be, then you should know if I have.”

  He let out a sound that was a mixture of a sigh and a laugh. “If I tell you, then I won’t be able to discern when you’re lying anymore.”

  I sighed. I needed to know. It would bother me all night. This called for extreme measures. “Fine. Tell me, and on my word of honor, I won’t lie to you ever again.”

  He eyed me carefully, and paused for several seconds before saying, “Very well. We have a deal.” Then he turned his head, trying to hide his growing smile. “It’s your nose.”

  I gaped in surprise. “What about my nose?”

 

‹ Prev