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“Good evening, your lordship.” Selena curtsied.
Owen fidgeted. “I beg your pardon, but must we be so formal? I understand the servants must show respect, but I thought at least my wife might be more familiar with me.”
“If you like, Fernsby.”
“No.” He came up to her. “Call me Owen. Please.”
He did not touch her, but he was close enough that Selena noticed the sorrow in his eyes. He had no one but her. She would give him this concession. “Very well, Owen.”
The tension left his shoulders. “Thank you.”
Selena was about to speak when Richards announced dinner was ready.
Owen offered his arm, and they went into the dining room. He held out the chair for her to sit. Someone had taught him manners while he had been away. Before, he never would have cared if she was seated, had he come to the meal at all.
“I hope everything is to your liking.” Selena put her napkin in her lap. The footman served the first course of turtle soup.
“I suppose it is,” Owen said after taking a taste of the soup. “I don’t remember what my preferences were, but my chambers are comfortable. Of course, anything is nice compared to the hospital.”
“How long were you there?”
“Let me see.” He leaned back in his chair. “I woke up in the hospital in New Zealand and stayed there for several weeks. Then there was the trip back, which took nearly a month, then another three weeks in London. When I saw the bed upstairs, it was a welcome change.”
All that time in those ghastly uncomfortable ward beds. A pang of pity hit her. And worse yet, to have no recollection of anything must have been difficult.
“Did Tom show you around the house?”
“No. By the time I bathed, shaved, and dressed, it was time to join you.”
“I can give you a tour tomorrow, if you like.”
“Yes, I would appreciate it, but first thing tomorrow, I need to speak with the estate manager. Tom told me his name is Victor Steele.”
“Yes. Mr. Steele has handled the management and finances of Stonegate in your absence.”
Selena had tried to gather information about Owen’s holdings, but the older man had been tight-lipped. Probably afraid to say too much, lest it get back to his boss. In the past, Owen had known where every cent was spent. Many times, he had berated her for spending what he thought was too much money on clothes or supplies for the household.
“I plan on reviewing everything with the man. Is he trustworthy?”
Selena fumbled with her words. “I don’t know.”
“How can you not know?”
“I’ve had little interaction with Mr. Steele to make such a judgement.”
Owen put his spoon down. “Surely he went over things with you while I was overseas.”
“When I asked, he said you had given him strict instructions not to let me know about anything of major importance.”
Owen huffed. “I sound like a right twit, not allowing my wife to have a say in the running of things in my absence.”
Selena did not answer. Instead, she focused on the next course. She bit into the meat, which was cooked to perfection.
“Ugh. What is this?” Owen put down his fork and knife with a frown.
“You don’t like it?”
“Heavens, no.”
