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CHAPTER12
Owen knew his words gave Selena little comfort. Had he given her empty promises in the past? He would show her with deeds, instead of words, that he wanted to make a life with her. If he had to beg on his hands and knees, he would. The more time he spent with Selena, the more he knew there was no one else he wanted to be with.
But he could not argue with the point she had made about his mistress. Obviously, something had attracted him to Violet to make him choose her. This trip was a test, and he needed to succeed to win the prize—his wife.
At last, the tall buildings of London loomed in the distance. The pounding in Owen’s pulse matched the clip-clop of the horses. As the carriage hurried through the streets, Selena pointed out spots of interest. Her tone was neutral, like she was speaking to a tourist who was seeing the city for the first time. In a way, he was. When they had left from the hospital, it had all been overwhelming. Now Owen could take in all the sights and smells.
They entered a wealthier district. The crowded structures gave way to sprawling townhouses with neatly trimmed lawns separating the properties. Small parks dotted the landscapes. Well-dressed men and women strolled down the walks. Children being chased by their nannies ran among the stylish Londoners.
“Bran and Sarah should arrive tomorrow.”
Owen turned toward Selena. “I beg your pardon?”
“I said Bran and Sarah will be here tomorrow.”
“Good. I have a scheduled appointment this afternoon with Mr. Perkins, my solicitor.”
“Will you be home for dinner, or will you be out?”
“Of course, I will be back. Where else would I go?” His words were clipped.
Selena lowered her head, but not before Owen saw her grimace. Blundering idiot. It seemed already they were falling into their old roles. He the titled lord gallivanting around the city, and she the humble wife waiting for him at home.
“My apologies. I did not mean to sound harsh.”
“It does not matter.”
Owen remained silent. It did matter, but he would leave it for now. They pulled up to the townhouse. It was a corner structure with perfectly pruned trees lining both sides of the walk leading up to the front door. By the time they went up the stairs, the front door had opened, as if by magic. A footman stood by the door, his back ramrod straight, eyes staring straight ahead.
It would be like the first time he’d been to Stonegate. The servants didn’t know what to expect of him. Like before, the staff was lined up to greet them. Selena made the introductions of the butler and housekeeper, who introduced the rest of the staff. Besides Tom and Katie, there were two maids, the cook, and two footmen.
Selena took him on a quick tour of the house before showing him to his bedchamber. Tom had already unpacked his clothes since he had arrived earlier in the day. After seeing that everything was in order, Owen went in search of Selena. She was in the drawing room at the writing desk.
“I am leaving for my appointment with Mr. Perkins.”
Selena set down her pen. “I will keep dinner waiting until you return.”
“I hope I’m not that late.” He tried to sound jovial, but they both knew that it wasn’t the meeting with the solicitor that had Selena worried. It was him seeing his former lover. Without another word, he left. Best to get it over with.
The carriage took him through the bustling streets of London. It was all so new—and loud. The noise was enough to drown out one’s own thoughts. Already Owen could tell he preferred the quiet of the country. What had he ever seen in this place? Had he been trying to escape something, or had he been in search of something? The answers lay within these old walls. Someone from his past had to know what had changed him. With Tom’s list of his favorite establishments and Bran’s help, Owen was sure to find the answers he was looking for.
The conveyance pulled to a stop in front of a nondescript brick building. The placard on the door said Perkins and Associates. Owen entered the establishment. There were several desks in the front room. All the clerks were working diligently. One man stood when he entered.
“Can I help you, sir?”
“Yes, I have an appointment with Mr. Perkins. Lord Fernsby.”
The man bowed. “I will let him know you have arrived, your lordship.”
While he waited, Owen glanced around the room. The place was neat and appeared in good repair. It would be interesting to see the type of man he had chosen as his solicitor. As if on cue, the young man returned.
“Mr. Perkins will see you, sir.” He motioned him through the open door to an interior office.
An older gentleman rose. He wore spectacles and had a full head of white hair. Although he appeared old, his eyes sparked with intelligence, and he walked around the desk with the agility of a younger man.
“Lord Fernsby, it is a pleasure to see you again.”
“Thank you, Mr. Perkins. It is good to finally meet you. Even though we have met in the past.”
