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Tom did not meet his stare. Owen waited until he was in his nightshirt, and Tom was ready to leave before addressing the valet.
“Tom, I am going to ask you something, and I want your honest answer.”
The valet swallowed the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. “I will do my best, sir.”
“I don’t want your best. I want the truth.” Owen spat out the last few words. Everyone walked around on pins and needles with him, and Owen was tired of the averted stares and half-truths.
Tom had one a hand on the doorknob, ready to bolt at a moment’s notice. Christ almighty, they were all scared of him. Owen sighed heavily as he plopped onto a chair
“Damn it, man, I will not attack you. I merely want to ask you a question.” He held his head in his hands, breathing deeply, trying to tamp down the frustration that threatened to erupt. Finally, he looked back at the valet. “I was a real bastard, wasn’t I? That’s why everyone scurries away from me. That’s why my wife seems terrified to be in my presence.”
He silently pleaded with the valet to answer him. After a minute, Tom removed his hand from the doorknob and turned fully to face his employer, but he still looked ready to bolt at the slightest provocation. “You want the truth, sir?”
“God, yes.” Owen stood, suddenly restless. “I want a straight answer from someone.”
Tom tapped his fingers nervously on the door before speaking. “Very well, but you may not like what I have to say.”
“I realize that, and I will hold no ill will toward you, Tom.”
The valet met his stare. “Before you left, you spent most of your time in London. I accompanied you. You were rude, arrogant, and let no one forget they were beneath you. You are wealthy, and you liked to use that money to gamble and pay to keep your mistress.”
Owen was speechless.
“You were prone to fits of temper, at me or anyone, depending on how deep in your drinks you were. A few times, you ended up in a brawl, but you always came out on top. If you wanted something, you took it, no matter what. You enjoyed coming home and boasting to me about your exploits.”
“What about Lady Fernsby?” The words barely passed his lips.
“Her ladyship stayed here. You explicitly said you did not want her at the London house. I believe your exact words on your wedding day were, ‘She is only good for breeding.’”
Owen flinched. He was the worst type of cad—or had been. No wonder Selena wanted nothing to do with him. The way he had so callously cast her aside was heart-wrenching. It appeared he had a lot of things to make amends for.
“Thank you, Tom.”
“I am sorry, sir.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for, I do.”
He walked over to the valet and extended his hand. Tom looked at him like he was mad, but he must have seen the softened expression on Owen’s face as he grasped the proffered hand and shook it.
“I want you to make me a promise, Tom.”
“Yes, sir.”
“If you see me exhibiting any of my past tendencies, you will tell me? I don’t want to be that man again. I will need your help.”
“Of course, sir.”
“It seems I have my work cut out for me, but I plan on being a good master and husband.”
“I will help however I can, sir.”
“Thank you, Tom. Good night.”
“Good night, sir.”
Now Owen was certain Selena was holding details back from him. He would get the complete story, eventually. It would take time to repair whatever damage he had done over the years. First thing in the morning, he would meet with Victor Steele. He had to get a grasp on what exactly his fortune and holdings were.
He also needed to find other people, friends, acquaintances—anyone who would talk to him. If Owen had spent most of his time in London, there were things Selena would not know about. It was a puzzle, with lots of missing pieces. If he worked hard, Owen might be able to put his life back together, the right way. He owed it to Selena. Owen wanted to earn her trust, even if he could not have her love. The few times he had touched her, Owen had felt something, a stirring in the pit of his stomach. Even if he developed feelings for her, he would not force himself on Selena, nor would he make her feel obligated to share his bed. In the end, if she wanted to leave, he would let her.
