Chapter 52 - Fifty Two
The drawing room of the Duke’s private residence was bathed in the warm, golden light of a new morning. Owen sat on the edge of a plush, velvet sofa, his small feet not quite reaching the floor. He looked around the room, his eyes wide with an awe he couldn’t conceal. He gazed at the high ceilings, the elegant furniture, the grand piano in the corner, and the way the sunlight streamed through the tall, clean windows, making dust motes dance like tiny fairies in the air.
He bounced up and down several times on the soft sofa cushion, a wide, delighted grin spreading across his face. It was the most comfortable thing he had ever sat on.
Delia entered the room carrying a tray with a crystal jug of lemonade and two tall glasses. She smiled at the sight of him. "I see you’re making yourself at home."
"Thank you for inviting me here, Lady Delia," Owen said, his bouncing coming to an immediate stop as he tried to look more formal and mature. "I never even dreamt I would be inside the Duke’s residence one day. It’s... it’s amazing."
Delia smiled and poured him a glass of the lemonade. "I’m glad you could come, Owen."
He took the glass she offered and drank it down, savoring the sweet and tangy taste as if it were the finest wine. When he was done, he set the glass down with a satisfied sigh.
Delia sat in the armchair opposite him, her expression turning serious. "Owen, I wanted to ask you about something," she started, "something that’s been bothering me a great deal."
Owen’s cheerful expression immediately fell. He put on a long, pouty face. "And here I was, thinking you invited me over just because you missed my company," he said, his voice full of mock disappointment.
Delia couldn’t help but smile at his childish behavior. She reached over and ruffled his messy brown hair. "It’s not like that, Owen. Of course I missed you."