Chapter 24 #2
Owen scrubbed a hand over his face. “Emma is impossible to read. I’ll admit my pride came in the way of properly greeting her at first, but now…
now I do not know if she is willfully maintaining distance out of a mistaken sense of the disparity between our stations or because she is not interested in renewing the sentiments we shared in our youth. ”
“Have you asked her?”
“No.” He couldn’t bear living through such a rejection again.
He’d entered into the last proposal so confident in both Emma’s affection and her answer that the rejection had been a blow from which he’d never fully recovered.
Not truly. It had broken him in an irreparable way, and reconnecting with her brought light to the old cracks, opening them again.
If he was to mistake the situation a second time, would those cracks break entirely?
Tom chuckled. “Is that not the easiest way to learn the status of her heart? Simply ask her how she feels.”
“It might be the simplest, but it is by no means the easiest. Asking the woman if she might care for me could very well be the most frightening thing I’ve ever done in my entire life.”
“You’ve faced down armies. A tiger.”
“My statement stands.”
Tom chuckled, shaking his head. “We’ve overcome much together in our years, and each challenge made us stronger, not only as men but as a unit. Facing the fear of the jungles, disease, some of the food we were forced to endure…it strengthened us. We became better for having faced them.”
Owen considered the challenges in the army, both in war and the culture, living so far from home for so long.
Tom’s fingers drifted over the jagged scar on his cheek.
“I did not intend to stand in the way of the gunfire the day I saved you and Kentworth, but I had to make a decision in the moment, and it was the right one. If I had not pushed you out of the way of the blast, you would probably not be here today, and Kentworth would not have had another year of life.” He swallowed hard, tapping his knee where the amputation had taken place.
“I lost some things that day, but I don’t regret taking that leap.
I learned much about myself and the ones I love through the challenges I’ve faced over the last two years, Captain, and I am a better man because of them. ”
“I didn’t think you’d want me to mention that day.” He hadn’t been sure he’d be invited over the threshold, in all honesty. But to know Tom hadn’t held a grudge these last few years for the losses he’d endured provided Owen an inexplicable relief.
“Well, I’m certainly allowed to talk about it.”
Owen laughed. “Very well.” But he quickly sobered. Was Tom correct? Was the challenge worth the possibility of growth? Was talking to Emma worth the risk of another denial?
“So, you did not suffer in my company for half a decade and nearly die only to wither away an old man here.” Tom peered at him closely. “Or maybe what you need is your men behind you. Am I to back you up, then?”
“No. If I’m to do this, I can certainly do so on my own.”
Tom gave one small nod, as though to convey good soldier. His questioning glance was ripe with curiosity. They’d reached a point where Owen could no longer postpone the inevitable reason for his journey. He pulled the watch from his pocket and dangled it from his hand.
Tom sucked in a breath. “That belongs to Kentworth.”
“He would have wanted you to have it.”
“You were our commanding officer. He left it with you for a reason, Buckley.”
Owen shook his head, admiring the light from the flames glinting on the gold watch. “You saved both of our lives.”
Tom dropped his gaze to the fire before them, a furrow appearing between his brows.
“Not a day goes by that I am not grateful for your sacrifices,” Owen said gently.
“Kentworth mentioned you often after you went home. Until he grew sick, he consistently reminded me to be grateful for my second chance in life.” Owen rubbed a thumb absently over the brass embossed casing.
He pulled out a sealed letter and passed it over.
“He asked me to personally deliver this, and if I am not mistaken, I am certain he wanted you to have the watch as well.”
Tom stared at the letter.
“I can open it for you if—”
“No.” Tom took it, clearing the emotion from his throat. “It’s only strange receiving a letter from the dead.”
Owen nodded. He sat back, waiting for his friend to read through the missive.
When Kentworth contracted the ague, he didn’t have long.
Unlike some of the other men they knew, it had taken him swiftly, and with his passing and Tom’s departure a year before from the injuries sustained while pushing both of them out of the way when a building was blown to pieces, Owen found himself alone.
He would quite literally not be alive if it were not for those men.
Tom folded the letter and placed it on the table, lifting his tankard and taking a long pull of his drink. “He only wanted to give his thanks again. If you express more gratitude, I’ll be glad to see the back of you. It’s in the past now, Buckley.”
Owen swallowed his words. “You understand why we feel—”
“The past.”
Silence settled around them but for the popping and crackling of the fire. “Then I’d best be on my way. But before I go, can I ask for some advice?”
“If I have any to give,” Tom said.
“My school…I’m hoping to find a location shortly.”
Tom sat up further, pushing himself from the seat and readjusting his foot on the stool. “You mean to start it? The charity school?”
“Now that I’ve inherited my uncle’s money, I have the funds to begin. I wrote to Hamm about investing, and he is interested so long as he only has to contribute funds and not time. My new bailiff is working on estate options close to Buckley Place in Derbyshire.”
“It is a good thing you’re doing.” He squeezed the pocket watch and looked down at it. “Giving lads an education who can’t afford it. Giving them the option of staying out of the army if they choose.”
Owen’s heart raced. “I want you to come on and help.”
“Help how?”
“Administration, mostly. You’ve a good head for numbers, and I’ll need a sound mind to manage the student applications.
It will be difficult work selecting boys.
They’ll all be worthy, but we won’t have room for everyone, so I need a man I can trust to make the call.
You’d manage the staff and teachers, as well as oversee hiring and all of the servants.
” Owen paused, inhaling and steadying his shaky hands.
“It is a large role, Tom. Essentially, I am asking you to run the school.”
His mouth remained a thin line, nothing about his expression giving him away. “Where would you be?”
“Around. I would oversee everything as a whole, and while I hope the school is near Buckley Place, I would not wish to leave the estate while my aunt is in this fragile state. So I cannot reside within the facility. You would be the senior officer living on the premises. It would require relocation. A few of the properties we’ve looked at have cottages nearby, dower houses or the like that we can renovate for your use entirely, but I could not guarantee it.
If the best option is an estate without something of that kind, then you would only be granted rooms within a separate area of the house—rooms for you and both of your sons, of course, if they should wish for employment as well. ”
Tom’s attention drifted to the wall. “Are you offering me charity, Owen?”
The use of his given name was enough to shock Owen into sitting up. He’d never heard it on Tom’s tongue. “No. You are the man I want at my side in this endeavor. There is no one else in England I trust more.”
Silence sat thickly in the room, muffled only by the whoosh of Owen’s pulse in his ears. He watched emotions flick over Tom’s face, one after the other, as he considered what Owen brought to him.
Finally, Tom let out a long sigh and shook his head. “I’ll scare the boys.”
“No, you won’t.”
“I scare my neighbors.”
“If it worries you, wear an eye patch.” Owen tilted his head, giving it consideration. “I imagine it will only give you notoriety. Consider the stories they will concoct.”
A low, rumbling laugh came from Tom’s belly, rising in volume and speed.
“Promise you will at least consider it. Speak to Mrs. Danvers. Ask your boys. I could use a good man like you.”
“Don’t worry. Annie’s heard every word. She’s probably already packing our trunks.”
“It isn’t true,” she called from upstairs.
Tom pointed toward the stairwell. “Good woman, but she can’t keep to herself. Worries over me too much.”
“It sounds as though she loves you quite dearly.”
Tom lifted an eyebrow. “That is true, too.”
Owen pressed his hands to his knees and stood. “I’d better leave. But please think about what I’ve said. It would be a fair relief to have you at my side.”
“I’ll consider it.” Tom ran his hand over his dark hair. “Will you come for dinner tomorrow? I’d like you to meet the boys.”
Owen thought about Emma, but even if he wanted to return to Briarstead now, he couldn’t. Philosopher needed a few days of rest before he could make the return journey. “I would like that.”