Page 46 of Marrying a Reluctant Lady
“My lord?” Mr. Crane asked him hastily, appearing in the doorway in answer to the bell.
“Please bring lemonade for Lord and Lady Walden,” he said swiftly, before Lord Walden had a chance to interject anything else. “And please inform Mrs. Crane that there will be two guests for dinner.” He saw Mr. Crane’s eyes widen and he held his gaze, trying to let him know he also thought it was a crazy idea, but hecouldn’t stop them. Mr. Crane nodded.
“I will directly.”
Mr. Crane hurried off and it occurred to Owen to wonder absently where Barrow was as he had not seen him for quite a while. He pushed the thought aside as Lord Walden cleared his throat again.
“Place could do with fixing,” he told Owen flatly.
Owen gaped. The house was dilapidated, he knew that as well as anybody could. But no visitor had ever flatly stated that the house was in need of repair.
“I will be supervising renovations soon, my lord,” he said lightly. He tried to ignore the rudeness, but it angered him. He looked at Ophelia. She had turned around and was staring out of the window. Her back was tense, her posture rigid and stiff. He longed to go to her, to comfort her embarrassment.
“Good. Capital.”
Owen swallowed hard; his throat tight with anger. The fellow didn’t seem to know the first rules of courtesy. He was just trying to think of some topic of conversation that the baron could not use to insult anyone, when Mr. Crane came in with lemonade and two glasses.
“My lord,” he said, bowing low to Owen. Owen held his gaze, trying to reassure him. Mr. Crane returned the look and then cleared the table and hurried from the room. Owen didn’t blame him.
“So,” Lord Walden said as they all took a seat at the table. “You’re planning to extend as well as renovate?”
“I wasn’t,” Owen said lightly.
“It’s big enough here, eh?” Lord Walden said with a chuckle. “It’s a fine estate. Very fine. Just in need of some fixing. Garden needs some serious work, then the furniture’s mostly a bit old.”
“I am sure you have some grand ideas, Lord Ivystone,” Lady Walden said, clearly trying to return the conversation tosomething less controversial.
“Yes, my lady. Thank you. And will you be holidaying this summer?” he asked, trying desperately to think of something to say.
Opposite him, Ophelia smiled; just a small smile that he could see playing at the corner of her mouth, but it made his heart soar.
“We intend to go to Brighton for two weeks,” Lady Walden explained.
“I see,” Owen answered.
“Have a small holiday townhouse in Brighton,” Lord Walden said before anyone else could interject anything. “Now, that was something to renovate.”
“I would imagine it was,” Owen replied as the silence stretched after Lord Walden’s statement.
“There are many new craftsmen in Brighton, though,” Lady Walden mentioned, “since the Prince Regent had the Brighton Pavilion built.”
Ophelia seized the chance to talk about architecture, and Owen could see Lord Walden resisting the flow of the conversation, but eventually he was pulled along with it. Owen looked at the clock, checking to see how long it would be before dinnertime.
Just an hour. I can manage an hour more.
Dinner arrived after another hour of stilted conversation, and Owen looked at the table in some surprise. Mrs. Crane had managed to produce a very impressive meal, and he wondered whether she had to use some money from the budget for the following week. He pushed the thought aside, glancing at Ophelia. She was so good with budgeting, and he smiled at the thought, then felt his senses swim as she grinned back. He looked down, knowing that Lord Walden, who was sitting across from him, would have something to say if he spent the entireevening staring at Ophelia. He had to drag his eyes away.
Talk around the dinner table was more stilted, if anything, than it had been in the drawing room. Lady Walden tried to talk about parties they had recently attended, but the conversation didn’t flow naturally, and Owen found himself sitting watching Ophelia. That was all that he could do.
“...and you must host a ball,” Lord Walden’s voice interrupted his thoughts. He’d been drifting in his thoughts, not even noticing what was being discussed around him, but that statement caught his interest.
“Us?” he asked at once.
“Of course!” Lord Walden chuckled. “As soon as you’ve got some paint on these walls, and the floors are mended, and the furniture’s a bit more modern.”
“Yes, Ophelia,” Lady Walden said firmly. “The moment the house is restored to its former glory, you must host a ball.”
“A ball,” Owen said slowly. He wondered if they had forgotten how little money he had; if they had any idea what that really meant.
