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“It’s roasted quail. It used to be your favorite.”
Owen looked between her and his plate. A smile slowly formed, then he let out a tiny laugh. “I guess it’s not my favorite anymore.”
She had never seen Owen smile. It was both pleasant and unnerving. “I will make sure Cook does not make it again.” She motioned for the footman to remove the plate.
They spent the remainder of the meal sampling every dish to see if Owen liked it. Selena suggested they have him try an array of food over the next several days, then make a list of his favorites. Owen was grateful for the suggestion.
After dessert, they retired to the drawing room. Selena sat on the couch while Owen took the seat across from her. The couple remained silent for a time. Selena wasn’t sure what to say.
“Would you tell me how we met?”
Owen’s question surprised her, but it was inevitable that he would want to know about their relationship. What should she tell him? The truth would be too harsh. And while Selena had no lost love for the old Owen, this new Owen had her sympathy, if nothing else. There was no reason to be cruel to the man when he had no recollection of their past hardships.
She regarded Owen before she spoke. “We met at a ball in London. You introduced yourself to my family and asked me to dance.”
“Was I a good dancer?”
The question caught her off guard. “You were able enough, but not the most proficient.”
Owen had regarded dancing as a task rather than a pleasurable pastime. He had done the steps with military precision, but there had been no emotion in his dancing. They had exchanged a few words, nothing past the weather or talking about the other guests.
“I don’t remember how to dance. Perhaps you can teach me.”
“Perhaps.” The thought of being in Owen’s arms made her queasy.
“How long after our first introduction did we marry?”
When would the questions end? Selena did not like dwelling on past unpleasant memories. But then she saw Owen’s inquisitive stare, and she continued, just leaving out parts of the narrative.
“You started courting me shortly after the ball. We went on a few carriage rides, you escorted me to an opera and a few other choice gatherings, then asked my father for permission to marry me.”
Owen’s mouth was agape. “That’s it?”
“Yes.” Selena raised her brows. “What did you think it would be?”
He let out a breath. “I don’t know, just—something more.”
“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but ours was not a love match. A lot of the gentry and nobility marry for the connections and financial security.”
“Why did I marry you?”
Why indeed? Even Selena had not been entirely sure of Owen’s motives when he had asked for her hand. Her father had money, but the social connection was not much. It was a mystery.
Selena shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. You never told me.”
“All right,” he leaned forward, “then answer me this. Why did you accept my proposal? If it wasn’t for love, then why marry me? Surely you know your own motives.”
Because I was naïve and thought I could break through your hard exterior.During their courtship, Owen had held himself aloof. Selena, with her youthful optimism, had vowed to change Owen once they married. She’d thought all he needed was love to soften him and they would live happily ever after. Their first night as man and wife had shown Selena that Owen had no heart, but it was too late. Her fate had been sealed.
All of this ran through Selena’s mind just before she answered. “You were the son of an earl. Even a second son was better than most, in my parent’s opinion. Our union aided my father with his business and assured that I would be taken care of.”
Owen leaned back, defeated. Selena sat quietly, waiting for Owen to speak. He chewed on the corner of his lip, deep in thought. What was he thinking?
