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The lines on Mr. Perkins' forehead relaxed. “I understand, your lordship. And might I say, it is a noble thing you want to do. I will consult some colleagues so that I may find a way to fulfill your wishes.”
“Thank you.” Owen stood and offered his hand. “You will let me know when it is all done?”
“Yes, sir. As far as the matter of the Grosvenor Square, I will put that into motion immediately.”
Owen bowed his head, then took his leave. Next stop was to see his soon-to-be-former mistress. The coachman knew the way, and they took off down the lane. The buildings turned from cramped store fronts to spacious houses. Fashionably dressed couples strolled down the street. The carriage pulled up to a townhouse. It looked like all the others in the square.
Anxiety gnawed at Owen’s resolve. What would he feel when he saw this woman? Would there be an attraction? Sweat broke out on his brow. This was madness. He cared for Selena. There was no place for anyone else in his life. Even though he knew it was normal for men of the nobility to have a mistress, it felt wrong. Deep in his heart, Owen knew he could not betray Selena. Not after everything she had done for him.
He took a fortifying breath before knocking on the front door. A maid opened the door. Her mouth fell open when she saw him. Somehow, she remembered to curtsy.
“Good afternoon, your lordship.”
“Is Miss James available?”
“Yes, sir.” She opened the door to allow him entrance.
Owen crossed the threshold. The house was tastefully furnished, with lush carpeting padding his footsteps. He studied the room, but nothing looked familiar. The maid walked down the hall, away from Owen, when he stopped her.
“Where is Miss James now?”
“She is up in her bedchamber.” The maid gave him a puzzled look before leaving.
Of course, the girl would not know about his amnesia. Owen was about to stop the maid again but thought not. Surely, he could find his way. It wouldn’t be that difficult. He put a hand on the banister, then ascended the stairs. When he got to the second floor, he could only turn left. Some doors were open, easy enough to see they were empty. The first room he checked was an unused bedroom.
As Owen ventured further down the hall, he smelled perfume. That must be Violet. He followed the scent to the last door on the right. This must be her room. He knocked and waited.
“Come in,” a feminine voice answered from the other side.
The room was decorated in shades of violets and blues. An imposing four-poster bed took up space on the opposite end of the room. There was a sitting area by a large window with a writing desk and chair, plus a settee. Near to the bed was a dressing table filled with vials of different sizes. Seated at the table was a blond-haired woman who looked to be around Owen’s age. Violet turned to him. Her hair was elegantly swept back from her face, accentuating her high cheekbones and sculpted neck. A dark red dressing gown covered her body.
Violet stood. “Owen. This is a surprise.”
“Is it?”
“Yes. You weren’t due home for a few more months. How are you, my dear?” She came over, wrapped her arms around his neck, and drew him in for a kiss.
Their lips met, and Owen felt—nothing. There was no pounding of blood in his ears from the excitement of holding her close, like there had been with Selena. He kept his arms at his sides. Even his cock did not stir from this woman’s proximity.
She pulled away but kept hold of him. Violet studied his face. “There is something different about you.”
“A lot has changed since we last met.” Owen removed her hands from his neck.
“I can tell. By now, you would have had me on the bed with my legs spread.”
The image did nothing to stir Owen’s lust. “I was injured in New Zealand and lost my memory.”
“Everything?”
“Pretty much. But I have discovered quite a bit since I returned to England.”
“How long have you been home?” Violet sat on the edge of the bed.
“Selena took me to Stonegate after my stay at the hospital. We’ve been there for a few weeks. Now, we’ve come to London to clear some things up.”
At Selena’s name, Violet bristled. “What has she said about me?” She put her shoulders back.
“Nothing. Truth be told, I think my valet knows more about you.”
