Page 42 of Marrying a Reluctant Lady
They stood in silence for a moment, and then Ophelia turned as footsteps sounded in the hallway. Mr. Crane appeared, followed by Mr. Barrow and Owen. She felt her heart start to thud as he appeared. His hair was freshly brushed, and he looked impeccably handsome in his dark green velvet jacket and high-necked shirt.
“Aunt Julia!” Owen greeted her warmly. He went forward and kissed his aunt fondly on the cheek, then went to stand with Ophelia. She breathed in, smelling the scent of him mixed with leather from the riding-gear, and her heart thudded faster.
“Owen,” she greeted him softly. “Good morning.”
He turned to look at her and Ophelia could barely drag her eyes away from that green gaze that drew her in.
“Nephew. Have you time?” Lady Julia asked him. Owen turned swiftly to face her as if he didn’t remember she was there.
“Of course, yes,” he said at once. “Mr. Crane? Please fetch an extra cup for me. And a fresh pot of tea too, if you please.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Owen gestured to Mr. Barrow to leave, and then came over to the table and waited for them to take a seat. Ophelia sat down at the place beside his, Julia across from them.
“I am sorry I’m late, Aunt,” Owen said softly. “I was meeting the tenant farmers. Discussing rental prices.” He ran a hand through his hair and Ophelia’s heart twisted. She could see he was bothered.
“I trust you will manage it all well,” Julia said gently. “I won’t stay long. I merely wanted to drop in to wish the two of you well and to inform you that I’d be pleased to host you for dinner next week, should you care to visit me in London.” She glanced at Ophelia, eyes sparkling.
“I am sure we would like to, Aunt,” Owen said formally. “I will inform you as soon as possible of the day when we will call.”
“That’s very good,” Julia said approvingly.
The tea arrived and they sat and talked, but Ophelia could sense that Owen was restless, and, if she was honest, she felt restless too. It was only two hours before luncheon, and she was excited to go on their picnic.
Julia excused herself after half an hour of light conversation, and Ophelia looked up at Owen excitedly.
“So,” he said with a grin. “Are we going to set off? I had thought we could walk up to the stream. Mr. Crane will take the blanket and picnic-things up for us.”
Ophelia felt joy wash through her. “That sounds grand.”
They went downstairs. Ophelia’s thoughts raced with all Lady Julia had said.Be yourself,Juliahad told her.Trust yourself.
She swallowed hard. She didn’t know if she could do that, but she could try. She paused in the doorway to change her shoes to her sturdy outdoor boots and tie her bonnet with red ribbons under her chin. She slipped on her outdoor cloak and blushed as she caught Owen’s gaze on her.
“It’s eleven o’ clock, almost exactly,” he murmured, looking away, as if he was embarrassed to be caught staring.
“Is it?” she asked, clearing her throat. It felt tight, though she couldn’t guess why.
“It is,” he confirmed, gazing at his pocket-watch. “We can walk the shorter way, then take the longer way back again through the grounds.”
“That sounds good,” Ophelia agreed. His gaze lingered on her, and she blushed and frowned, aware that it was far from the first time he’d stared at her. His stare made her heart race, and she didn’t understand why. It made her feel a wash of joy, but it also made her feel annoyed with herself. His presence had such a large effect on her. It was maddening to have her heart thud so fast, and her breath stop—deliciously maddening.
They set out.
The day was warm, the sunshine truly hot where it touched her skin. It was the first strong sunshine of the year and it felt wonderful on her face and arms. The grounds were a tangle of grass, branches and early daisies. Ophelia looked around, studying the lawns and flowery borders as they walked.
“This part of the garden hasn’t been tended for years,” Owen said, sounding shy.
“It must have been grand,” Ophelia commented at once.
“My mother loved the garden,” Owen told her, voice soft. “This part was designed by her. The part that was for her own use—the rose-garden and the jasmine trellis—those have been shut for years. Nobody goes there now.”
“I see,” Ophelia answered, feeling curious. The apartments that the former countess had occupied were all shut too. She wondered what they looked like and if she would see them someday.
“There’s a lot that needs to be repaired,” Owen told her hesitantly as they walked up towards the stream. “Perhaps when it’s all been mended, we can use the gardens again.”
“I would love that,” Ophelia answered instantly. She loved gardens and plants, especially roses. The country estate had gardens and she missed them terribly when they went to London for the Season.
