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CHAPTER6
The last week had been like a dream. Owen had begun to hope that he could have a life with Selena. He knew she was hesitant about showing any affection, and he vowed to give her time and space. Over the last days, they had fallen into a routine which was amicable. He had made headway with familiarizing himself with his finances, with the aid of the estate manager and his London agent. It appeared he was wealthier than he had first thought.
Then there was his time with Selena. She was patient and attentive, but Owen could tell she was keeping her distance, to an extent. Today, when she had taught him how to dance, it had been the first time she had let herself go. The exhilaration of taking her in his arms, holding her close—it was better than he could have hoped. When they had tumbled onto the couch, he had waited to see if she would lean into him, but instead, Selena had shut herself off once again. He understood her hesitation and didn’t blame her, but all he wanted to do was kiss her and promise that everything would be fine. But he couldn’t predict the future.
Owen left the music room after Selena made her departure and went to his study. He rang the bell for Richards.
“Yes, sir?”
“Come and sit down, Richards.”
The butler’s face turned white. Poor man probably thinks he’s getting sacked.
Owen leaned back in his chair. “I have had several discussions with Mr. Steele regarding the staff wages.”
Richards raised his brows, waiting.
“It appears I have been a tight-fisted miser, and I intend to rectify the situation. So I have appropriately raised everyone’s wages and will give each servant an extra six months’ salary in hopes of making up for the hardships you and the others have had to endure.”
The butler’s mouth fell open for a second before he found his voice. “That is more than generous, your lordship.”
“No, it is not. It’s what is due to the staff who have stayed when most people would have left. Please give my gratitude to everyone. From now on, things will be different.”
“I will let them know, sir, and thank you.” Richards bowed and left.
Owen got up and paced the length of the room. No matter how long it took, he would try to right all the wrongs he had done in his old life. With any luck, he would not return to his former self. So far, no memories had returned. Perhaps it was for the best.
He paced the room, restless. After walking the length of the study three times, Owen stopped, his gaze wandering to no point in particular. That’s when he noticed something under the couch. It looked like a piece of paper. Owen picked it up. It was a map of New Zealand, and there were areas marked. He spread the map on his desk. One of the marked spots was not far away from the base where he had been taken after his injury.
Where had the map come from? Then Owen recalled his military bag had been sitting in that spot. It must have fallen out when he had dropped the bag on the floor. Just what he needed—another mystery to add to the pile. He opened a drawer and put the map with the piece of paper he had found with Longfellow’s name on it.
Selena did not come down for dinner that evening. Her lady’s maid explained her mistress had a headache and would take her meal in her room. Should he go to her? No. If she wanted to be alone, he would respect her wishes. Just when he thought they had made progress, Selena retreated.
The morning of the ball arrived. Owen was reviewing the mail and found a letter from London from Mr. Hamilton, his agent. He had asked Hamilton to inquire about an architect for Selena’s greenhouse, and he had found a candidate. Happy for an excuse to see his wife, Owen had Richards find Selena so he could tell her the good news.
He had seen little of his wife the previous day. Selena had gone out to make social calls, which had kept her away most of yesterday. The only time he had seen her was at dinner. She had been pleasant, telling him the local gossip she had heard, but the distance was still there.
A knock on the door disturbed his thoughts. “Enter.”
Selena came in. She wore a yellow muslin day dress with her hair swept up in a simple bun. “You asked to speak with me?” Why wouldn’t she look at him?
“I have news that might interest you.”
She met his stare with an arched brow. “Yes?”
Owen waved the letter in front of him. “I received word of an architect by the name of Rondal who would be ideal to design your greenhouse. He has done several throughout the country, including some work at Windsor.”
“My greenhouse?”
He walked over to her, unable to restrain himself. “Yes, dear Selena, your greenhouse. I thought you said it was your dream.”
“It is. I just thought…”
“That I would not listen? Would not care about your wants or needs?”
She averted her gaze. No, she would not shy away from him. Owen lifted her chin, so it forced her to look at him.
“I listen to everything you say because I want to make you happy.” Do I make you happy? That was what he wanted to ask her.
