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“You don’t remember us, do you, Owen?” Hughes spoke.
“No, I’m sorry.”
The man appeared the same age as Owen. His golden hair was long, brushing his shoulders, and he had friendly eyes, which matched his welcoming smile. They were about the same height, but Owen had more bulk than his visitor. Mrs. Hughes was petite, shorter than Selena, with ebony-colored hair which drew attention to her crystal blue eyes. She, too, smiled.
“We grew up together,” Hughes continued. “My estate is only a few miles down the road.”
“Were we friends?”
The gentleman pondered the question, the answer not being easy. “In our childhood we were friends, but we drifted apart over the years.”
“Why?”
Hughes glanced over at Selena, as if silently asking permission to speak the truth. She went up to him. “It’s fine, Bran. You can tell him the truth.”
So, they were on a first name basis? Some deep, dark part of Owen recoiled at the idea. His wife seemed more at ease with this Hughes fellow than with him. The sudden need to pull her away from Hughes built up inside him, to claim his wife as his and no one else’s.
“I think his lordship and I should speak in private.” Hughes looked at the couple.
Selena agreed. “Let’s go to the study, Sarah.” The ladies left the room.
Both men studied each other. Hughes crossed his arms across his chest. “I must say it is odd.”
“What?”
“You look the same, yet different.”
“So I have been told.”
Hughes chuckled. “Please don’t take it as a slight. You and I have not spoken for years. We travel in the same social circle, but our friendship ended ages ago.”
“Then why are you here? To see the freak who lost his memory?” Where had that outburst come from? It was the first time Owen had shown anger toward anyone since his return.
Hughes dropped his arms and stood to his full height. “Selena wrote us yesterday, saying it might be a good idea to call. She said you had a lot of questions, some that she could not answer. Since we knew one another in the past, she thought I could be of service.”
Owen’s shoulders slumped. He felt like a heel. “Forgive me. It was good of Selena to write to you.” He motioned for Hughes to sit. “Brandy?”
“Why not. And please, call me Bran. That is what you used to call me.”
“Then you must call me Owen.”
They settled down with their drinks. Bran took a sip before he started. “I’ll start at the beginning. I am not a titled noble like yourself, but my family has been successful. We own several properties in and around London, which allows us to live comfortably. My family’s success allowed us to move out here. You and I met at boarding school when we were ten years old.”
“Then we are the same age?”
“Yes, thirty-one.”
Christ, he hadn’t even known his own age. Of course, he hadn’t thought to ask anyone.
“How was I? I mean, was I nice or…?”
“Or were you the spiteful, calculating bastard you turned out to be?” Bran paused. “At that time, you were like any normal boy of that age. We got into mischief occasionally, but you did well at school and were liked by all.”
“Then what happened? How did I become this horrid man that Selena described to me?”
“I don’t know what exactly happened, but I know it started when you joined the military. Your father bought you a commission. When you left for training, you were the courteous, fun-loving Owen I had always known. But when I saw you a year later, you had changed into someone else.”
Owen swallowed, afraid to hear the rest, but knowing it was necessary. “Go on.”
