My gaze turned to Mr. Coburn. “Your daughter.”
He nodded curtly, avoiding my gaze. The coincidence was too wild to comprehend. Mr. Coburn’s ill daughter was Owen’s patient that died. Mr. Coburn had boasted that she was recently engaged. And her pending marriage was to be with Jasper. I stared at Mr. Coburn in shock and was surprised to see tears pooling in his eyes. I never expected him to be so … softhearted. But all things considered, he was helping to plot a murder.
I could hear Miss Lyons sobbing at the tree beside me. I almost pitied her, but then, between sobs, she said, “He does not love me! He loves her!” A dainty finger pointed in my direction. I nearly audibly gasped. She turned her cold blue eyes on me, her accusation even colder. She desired a way of escape, and felt no qualms in convicting me in the process.
My eyes darted between her and Jasper. She was not backing down on her claim. It was a natural response, defending herself, but my situation was growing increasingly dire by the second. Her words, though somewhat understandable, shocked me nonetheless.
“Oh, do not look at me with that prodigious surprise!” she rasped. “I have seen the way he looks at you.”
Jasper gave a low, husky laugh at this, leaning toward Miss Lyons with a smirk. “I applaud your attempt, Mademoiselle, but I witnessed you with him at the ball last night. I overheard the rumors of a proposal from his own sister.”
“You were at the ball?” I asked sharply. My question was answered as I recalled the image of a man in a very tall top hat obscuring my view of Owen and Miss Lyons. A chill settled between my shoulder blades.
“Dr. Kellaway invited me himself. He hoped it would be a … token of apology. I took it as an opportunity to descend upon the property unnoticed.”
It was a sure plan, for Lizzie and I were the only two who could have identified him. I looked across the clearing at Owen. He was tied to his tree sitting down, his head slumped forward, chin against chest. He was breathing, to my relief, and I thought I saw him moving.
“Help is coming soon,” I stammered. “You will be outnumbered.”
Instead of looking concerned, Jasper shrugged his shoulders. “Then we had best make this hasty.” He peeked at Owen, who was stirring noticeably now. “What opportune timing.”
Miss Lyons’s sobbing grew to an excruciating volume.
Jasper reached Owen’s tree an instant later and knelt down beside him with a sneer. “Good day. How was your slumber?”
I could see that Owen’s eyes had opened. The sight caused a surge of unrest to rise within me. He was tied tightly to that tree, hindered from his blow to the head, and without anything in the way of weapons. I could envision no remedy to our situation, and it terrified me.
He blinked rapidly, releasing a soft moan. He was still unaware of his surroundings, I could tell. He looked oddly at ease, his scowling gaze shifting from Jasper to the rope at his hands. Then his eyes found mine, and the time for composure was gone.
“Annette?” he breathed. He looked as if the devil himself had landed between us, sheer terror crossing his face. He began vigorously pulling against his restraint. “Release her, now!” he yelled, his voice desperate. Jasper stared from Owen to me, looking perplexed as his smile faltered.
My throat tightened. “I’m sorry, Owen,” I said, not expecting my strength to crumble so quickly. “I had to follow you.” A tear slipped from my eye, something that was becoming an unwelcome habit.
Owen’s jaw clenched as he momentarily gave up on his efforts of escape. His eyes lingered on me for a moment, flickering to the ropes around my wrists and waist. He then glanced up at Jasper. The look in his eyes could have sliced through a boulder. “Release her. Release them both, or I swear I will make you regret every blasted moment of your life.”
Jasper’s smile only grew, transforming into a fit of hysteria. “How inattendu! He does love this one.” He gawked at Mr. Coburn, pointing a finger in my direction. “It was an unfair presumption on my part, I confess, but I cannot say that I’m disappointed. She has proven quite vexing. I shall delight in killing her.”
I thought I had seen Owen uncollected before, but not to such an extent as this. Something within him snapped, the last and final straw laid. He pulled desperately against the ropes, yelling, pleading, as Jasper walked toward me. I bit down my tears, not willing to give him the satisfaction of seeing my fear. I watched Owen, his futile efforts unceasing, until Jasper stood between us. “Would you prefer pistol or dagger?”
Owen cursed at him from across the clearing.
My thoughts collected on Peter and Charles. What would they do without me? Where would they go? Back to live with Aunt Ruth? The idea stabbed at my heart. No. Owen would look after them, take them to live with him at Willowbourne.
“Very well, I will choose,” Jasper said, pulling the shiny dagger from his jacket. He held it up, letting the blade catch light. “The pistol would have been far too loud, you see. I do not wish to alarm the neighbors.”
“How considerate,” I said with mock civility. I hadn’t abandoned hope yet, surely help was on its way. We were no more than a mile from the house. What was taking so long?
Mr. Coburn piped in, his voice uneasy. “Jasper, perhaps—perhaps we might … reconsider whether it is entirely … necessary to commit the, um … the crime.” He was standing near Owen, wringing his hands together uneasily.
Jasper whipped to face him, stepping away from me for an instant. I breathed a small sigh of relief. Every second of delay was precious. I locked eyes with Owen, trying to communicate somehow without words. His eyes held everything from anger to desperation to regret.
“Is this a coward that you are becoming, Coburn?” Jasper scoffed. “I never took you for a coward. We are avenging your daughter. Not to do so would be cowardice of the most unrespectable sort.”
Mr. Coburn stared at the ground.
“And to murder a woman for the mistake of a man is respectable?” Owen said with disbelief. “That is dishonor of the most disgusting sort. If you must murder someone, then your business is with me. A duel. Release me and you will answer! Fair game. You choose the weapons.”
Jasper gritted his teeth. “Enough of this. Time is wasting away!” Once in front of me again, he took his dagger slowly to my throat, pressing it there, not firmly enough to cause pain, but firmly enough for me to vividly imagine what this dagger—this man—was capable of. I felt its cold edge, a chilled breeze against my skin.
He faced me, holding my head against the tree with one hand. “I am going to enjoy this,” he said, his eyes dark, lost of amusement.
My breath came rapidly, as if my body knew that soon it would take its last. “And afterward you will enjoy your hanging.”
He pressed the blade against my throat, making me cry out. I couldn’t see Owen, but I could hear him, desperately calling my name, pleading with Jasper not to kill me, thoroughly naming the consequences he would inflict if he did.
“Coburn, subdue him somehow!” Jasper screamed, returning his gaze to my face. “If a hanging is where this ends, then I will welcome it. My love and I will then have our marvelous reunion,” he snarled.
I don’t believe such reunions exist where you are going, I wanted to say. But I owed it to my brothers to hold my tongue. Making him angrier now would not be an intelligent move, no matter the satisfaction. “Would she wish you to do this?” I asked, my voice strained from the pressure at my neck. His eyes narrowed, but I continued, “Become a criminal for her sake, and blame her innocent physician for the cruel hand fate dealt her?” It was my last hope, plucking at his conscience with guilt.
He hesitated for the length of a blink. “Of course.”
My stomach dropped.
In hysterics once more, he inched closer to my face, holding the dagger taut. “Au revoir,” he whispered.
I squeezed my eyes shut, preferring my last sight to be of the back of my eyelids rather than this man’s haunting countenance. The seconds stretched on and on. I co
unted to ten in my head. Nothing. Tears were slipping from my eyes despite my effort to control them. In my mind I said farewell to Peter, to Charles. To Owen. Owen, who I knew would look after my little brothers, repair their tiny hearts after they shatter. Raise them to be gentlemen. I paused my thoughts, silence filling my ears like a sound. Owen?
I could no longer hear him.
The same moment my eyes flew open, the dagger fell from my neck. I blinked away the tears clouding my vision and gaped at the scene before me. Jasper was being ground into the dirt, Owen on top of him, throwing his fists into his face, sounds of crunching accompanying each movement.
Miss Lyons gave a high-pitched scream.
All I could do was stare, absolutely shocked.
After several more strikes, and another for good measure, Owen took Jasper by the collar, jerking him to his feet. I watched his eyes dart around him, one already swelling. His nose was bent grotesquely and bleeding. Surely broken, explaining the repeated crunching.
“Coburn!” he screeched.
“Your coconspirator abandoned you!” Owen barked, thrusting him back by his collar. “He released me himself. Now, we can settle this like men, or you can follow him off this land while some of your face remains intact. Be assured that I will not hesitate to dismantle whatever body part necessary should you choose to return. Or if you fail to leave within the next two seconds.”
The beating of horse hooves reached my ears just as Edmond and Mr. Kellaway burst into the clearing, pistols in hand. Their eyes fell upon the scene before them, surprise crossing their expressions before they dismounted and set to untying Miss Lyons and me. Owen clearly had control of the situation. Without a backward glance, Jasper retrieved his hat from the dirt and fled, holding a hand to his bleeding nose.
Edmond finished untying my ropes, concern on his face. “Are you hurt?”
I shook my head numbly, rubbing feeling back into my wrists. How was I alive?
Then Owen was there, pushing past Edmond, close enough to touch. Seeing his concern and fear tugged at the weak strings that were holding my emotions together. Needing stability, and acting on strange instinct, I threw myself into his arms, everything about the day’s events catching up to me.
Without hesitation he slipped an arm around my waist, the other holding my head against his chest, as if he meant to keep me near his heart and never let me go. I could feel his hands shaking as he held me, and when he pulled away to look at my face I was surprised to see tears in his eyes. “You stubborn girl.” He ran his hand over my hair and pulled my head to his chest again. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice husky with emotion. “I’m sorry.”
Everything came pouring back to me—I had almost run away this morning. Owen had kissed me. I felt incredibly shy and confused as I recalled that particular event. It took a host of efforts, but I pulled my head back to look at him and found my voice. “That man was mad. You couldn’t have expected this to happen.”
Owen drew an audible breath. “If the other man, my patient’s father, hadn’t released me … ,” he shook his head, cutting off his own words.
For a strange reason I felt a smile tug at my lips.
“What?”
I pressed down a laugh, placing a hand over my mouth.
“Annette?” He looked confused, concerned by my sudden change of mood, no doubt.
“He is the man from my neighborhood. The one with the revolting eyes,” I said. The wild coincidence of the situation now struck me as hilarious. Mr. Coburn, the man who I had despised, and still didn’t particularly find agreeable, had quite possibly saved my life.
Owen still looked confused, so I explained the connection, lightening his expression to a smile. “To repay him for his deed today, we shall only refer to him as slightly revolting from now on.”
My laugh came out as a snort. I knew the laughter was only coming as a replacement for crying, so I wasn’t surprised when I ended up doing both. Owen wiped the tears from my cheeks and wrapped me in his arms again, cradling me as if I was the most precious thing in the world to him. I was enveloped with comfort and security, and at that moment I finally believed that he truly cared for me. That he loved me.
But it doesn’t matter, I reminded myself. I had nearly left this morning, firm on my decision to remind my heart of its place. My brothers needed me to love them, and them alone, for I was the only one who did. I could not have Owen vying for my heart that already belonged to my brothers, who needed it so desperately.
But are they happy? Are you happy? I pushed the questions away, because I knew it was my heart that posed them.
I was suddenly very aware of where I stood, leaning against Owen the way I was, clutching his shirt in my hands like a child. It had been so long since I had felt comfort like this, or since I had felt so achingly loved. But it was an unfair, painful thing to prolong this moment. Because I was never going to feel it again.
I moved away from him too quickly. I could see by the flash of hurt in his eyes. I looked away immediately, but I knew in my bones that the pain in his eyes would haunt me always, and I felt my heart crack a little more. This crevice ran deep, and I doubted that I could ever find a way to fill it.
Gathering my resolve, I bit my lip to keep my tears inside and walked toward the trees where Edmond and Mr. Kellaway waited with Miss Lyons and the horses. Edmond was looking between Owen and me, a secretive smile touching lightly on his lips.
The men walked ahead, holding the reins as we started back to the house. Miss Lyons was riding on the horse beside me, deliberately avoiding my gaze. My head ached from thought, making my eyelids droop with the rhythmic motion of the ride.
By the time we reached the house, everything was hazy. Up the stairs, through the hall, into my room, Lizzie leading me by the elbow. My bed could not have been a more welcome sight. I will only sleep for one hour, I resolved.
But then my head hit my pillow and I slept for eight.
A
Chapter 21
You poor thing!” Mrs. Kellaway exclaimed as I told her the details of the morning. She had insisted that I take a meal with her in the sitting room as soon as I awoke. But she was certainly devouring my words faster than her food. She had already spoken with Owen and Miss Lyons, hearing their sides of the story, but mine was the piece of the puzzle missing.
“He held a dagger to your throat?” she said in quiet awe, a chunk of roasted duck hanging off the edge of her fork.
I nodded.
She gasped, shaking her head. The meat fell to her plate. “Thank the heavens that Owen was present to stop him.”
I nodded again.
Her eyes were glued to my face, her expression unreadable. “You are not still planning to leave, are you?”
The question broke me from my thoughtless state. Was I going to leave? The idea was much less endearing now. For me to run off the land defiantly, besting my heart, being superior to its dreams. I was at an equilibrium, battling with myself over what decision to make over this very subject. And what about Peter and Charles? I had never seen the two of them so happy. Maybe the way to keep my promises was different than I had so narrow-mindedly determined before. But maybe it wasn’t.
“Perhaps we will stay a few more days, if that is fine.” It was the best response I could manage. I was afraid, and I didn’t remember how to be brave.
Mrs. Kellaway smiled, her eyes bright. “It is my hope, and the hope of everyone in this house that you will stay even longer. But it is ultimately your choice, and I hope you make it correctly.”
Make it correctly?
“I know for certain that one heart will break if you leave here.” She leaned forward and hovered a finger above my chest. “If not another.” Her smile turned secretive, matching the expression Edmond had displayed in the woods.
I had no idea of how to respond, and Mrs. Kellaway must have sensed as much, so she gave my hand a pat and suggested that I find my brothers who had been very worried about me.
; I was grateful to leave, wanting to console my brothers as well as myself. I found them very close by, only a turn away from the room I exited, in apparent search for me. I extended my arms the moment I saw them, putting a smile on my face. They hurried to me with relief. Peter clutched my hand and Charles nestled against my side.
“I am just fine,” I assured them in the softest tone possible. “Not to worry.”
Charles lifted his gaze, small creases lining his forehead. Those creases I had seen so many times only now struck me forcibly. A little boy of five should never have so many reasons to frown, enough reasons to be worried and afraid. I had seen the same expression on Peter often. A realization came over me, filling me with guilt. Since arriving here, this was the first time I had seen that look on either of their faces. We had been here for weeks now, and not once had I seen those creases of worry. How could I possibly tear them away from this place?
“Were you afraid?” Peter asked, his eyes full of interest.
“Yes, but I am fine now.”
“Owen said you were very brave,” Charles remarked.
I looked down at him, eyebrows drawn. “You have been with Owen?”
“While you were sleeping? Yes.”
A surge of gratitude erupted inside me. “What—how did you pass the time?”
Peter squeezed my hand eagerly. “He let us ride the horses! I got to ride the little black horse and Charles got to ride the brown one. I enjoyed it very much.”
I laughed. “I’m glad you did.”
“But I still missed you very much,” Peter said with a little smile, melting my heart.
I pulled them both into my arms and gave the tops of their heads a light kiss. “I love you both very, very much.”
Charles’s voice was muffled against me as he said, “Owen said that he loves us too.”
“What?” I pulled away so I could see his face, heart pounding.
His blue eyes gazed up into mine, not a hint of dishonesty there. “Uh huh.” He nodded. “He told us that we were the best boys in the whole world and that we need to be good gentlemens to you our whole lives. And then he told us that he loves us.”
Mischief and Manors Page 26
