Page 64 of Marrying a Reluctant Lady
They agreed and went to organize some clothing for the walk. For Ophelia it was more difficult—being seen in town in a plain dress in simple linen was not something she could do as a lady.
“I have a cloak here,” Leonard said swiftly. “It belonged to my aunt, and she forgot it one day. It’s not perfect, but it will cover almost the entire gown.”
“And we can buy some more fabric in town as soon as we find a shop,” Owen agreed. “Then you can have some new dresses made up.”
“Oh! That would be grand,” Ophelia sighed in relief.
Owen smiled at her fondly. She had been so brave—he would almost not guess that she had been close to burning alive just two days ago. He knew her, and when she got a fearful look on her face, her hand tensing in his, he knew she was thinking of it. Otherwise, to anyone on the outside, she might have been at Leonard’s to take in the London scenery.
They were about to go to the hallway when Mr. Hargreave walked into the room.
“My lords? My lady? There are visitors downstairs.”
“Oh?” Owen felt his heart thud. He looked at Ophelia, whose gaze moved around as if afraid. He went to her and took her hand, squeezing it gently.
“Who is it?” Leonard asked directly. He sounded a bit annoyed at the intrusion too.
“The man gave his calling-card. He is Baron Walden, my lord,” Mr. Hargreave said, passing the card to Leonard carefully.
Owen shot a look at Ophelia, who paled.
“I don’t know if we...” he was about to tell Leonard that they would rather not receive the guests, but Ophelia interrupted first.
“Let them come up,” she said swiftly. Her voice was tight and Owen, who knew she was afraid and trying not to show it, felt a rage knot up inside him. She was struggling with so much fear as it was. Why did they need to bother her?
“Only if you want,” Leonard began awkwardly, but Ophelia nodded firmly.
“Let them come up. We need only talk to them for five minutes. Then we must go shopping.” She glanced at Owen, and he saw a glimmer of steel in her gaze that made him smile.
“Yes. They need only stay a while.” He nodded and Leonard turned to the butler.
“Show them in, please, but remind them that we are ready to go out.”
“At once, my lord.”
Owen stood beside Ophelia. He could see how fearful she was, her eyes wide, her face expressionless, but he also could feel that she needed to do this, and that she wanted to do it by herself. He stood beside her, not touching but letting her know he was there if she needed him.
He heard footsteps in the hallway and looked up to see Lord and Lady Walden.
“My dear!”
Lady Walden ran straight to Ophelia. There was no big smile, no bright word to say. She ran to her daughter and hugged her close and Owen could see the relief on her face as she shut her eyes, crushing her daughter to her chest. Behind them, Lord Walden stood, clearly a little at a loss as to what to say.
“My lord,” Owen greeted him guardedly.
“Lord Ivystone.” The baron cleared his throat. “Well. Well, we won’t stay. We needed to see Ophelia, that’s all.”
“My dearest. I thank God that you are alive,” Lady Walden murmured. Owen wanted to smile. She had evidently wanted more than simply to see Ophelia...she was truly distressed, and he was glad to see it. At least she could be truly distressed.
“Mama. I’m fine,” Ophelia murmured softly. “Owen saved me.” She looked across at Owen, who moved instinctively closer.
“I am grateful, my lord,” Lady Walden murmured. Her blue eyes were wide as she gazed at him, and Owen felt his heart twist. She genuinely did care for Ophelia, her social ambitions were clearly secondary—or they were now, at any rate. “I truly am. The thought that Ophelia was so close to death...” she trailed off.
“I am grateful I could save her,” Owen said simply.
Beside him, Lord Walden cleared his throat.
“Well,” he said slowly. “We just wanted to see that Ophelia is well. We ought to let you go out.” He glanced at Leonard, who inclined his head.
