Miss Octavia Insists (The Henningtons Book 2) Page 21

  A consequence of being such a liberal person with her thoughts was that she was utterly useless at keeping secrets. “The night will have to unfold,” she said cryptically, but Rose already knew. She knew her well enough to discern that there would be an announcement.

  Again, Rose leaned in to kiss her. “He must be very worthy then. Congratulations. I am inordinately pleased.”

  Finn was chatting to some of his friends across the salon. Octavia hadn’t met a single one of them yet. He always seemed so solitary, but perhaps his friends were disappearing into marriages one after the other too.

  “You will have to come tell me about it,” Rose said, having followed the direction of her gaze. “Is Annabelle coming?”

  “I believe so. I’m sure she’ll be here soon, but please, have a drink and enjoy the evening. I must meet my brother,” Octavia said, seeing Julius arrive with Cressida, and Lydia in tow. Octavia went to greet them. Her brother kissed her on the cheek, and then Cressida. It felt practiced and icy. At no point had Cressida warmed up to her.

  “Octavia. You look lovely as always,” Julius said, which only intensified Cressida’s disapproval. Octavia had to worry if Julius’ marriage would turn out to be an unhappy one. On some level, they seemed well-matched as they cared about the same things, but Cressida’s strong disapproval would grate on Julius if it continued. They might bicker all day long, but family was family. Hopefully, Cressida would calm down. The unfortunate truth was that Octavia would probably have to stay away to keep the peace.

  “I see you are here,” Cressida said, as if she wouldn’t be invited to her own engagement announcement—although Cressida didn’t know that. “Dear Caius and Eliza must be here too,” Cressida said, looking around to see them. They were over by the sofa. Caius insisted Eliza stay off her feet as much as possible, and Eliza was trying to bear his overprotectiveness. “It will be so lovely to see them.”

  “Octavia,” Lydia said curtly. The girl hadn’t said more than two words to her since Prince von Zweibrücken decided he preferred her company to either of the Forthill sisters. The man had left a week back and Octavia felt it was right to confess that her heart had become entangled. Perhaps it always had been. It was hard to discern the exact point in which her heart had become so. It could even be the moment she’d seen him injured in his room, so vulnerable and helpless. It had felt so wrong seeing him like that. There had always been something formidable about him, something unstoppable and dangerous. From the start, something about him had thrilled her.

  “This is a lovely house,” Lydia said, taking in all aspects of the salon. “I love the African art. Lord Forthill is an accomplished man. The decor could use a woman’s touch. I’ll be sure to tell him.”

  “I’m sure he would appreciate that,” Octavia replied.

  They left her without another word as Cressida insisted on saying hello to their host. Lydia was placed front and center, and no doubt flattery would flow.

  “Now, what a curious invitation,” Melville said, appearing at her side.

  “Is it?”

  “I didn’t foresee that Fortescue was the type to plan suppers with your friends. It seems quite a few of them are here. Curious indeed. But to answer your question, I have to be frank and say I’m not all that surprised. I take it your father will not be attending?”

  “Too far to travel.”

  “Has Lord Fortescue had cause to see him of late?”

  Octavia didn’t answer.

  “I suspect uncle gave him hell.”

  “Well, he survived.”

  “The match must have his approval, then. It wouldn’t surprise me if your father had shot him otherwise.”

  “I doubt he would be that worked up about it.”

  “Well, it would be something he’d enjoy, but all’s well that ends well. How is Julius’ new bride taking the news?”

  “She is not aware yet.”

  “I can see that. She’s still trying to garner interest in that horrid sister of hers.”

  Normally, Octavia didn’t approve when Melville said such things about women, but the description was well-earned in this case. “They won't be pleased.”

  “Well, I am pleased for you,” Melville said and kissed her on the cheek. “I think I saw this coming.”

  “Really?” Octavia said, because she’d felt like strangling Fortescue much of the time when Melville had kept them company.

  “It shall be an interesting evening.”

  Hopefully not. Octavia greeted her other close friend as she arrived, and they both joined Rose while their husbands found other conversation. Congratulations were given again, and they confirmed that the banns had been posted at the local church close to Wilkeston House. Telling her friends made this all seem broader and more real. There was a larger context than just her and Finn, and after tonight, everyone would know.

  Some time later, they were invited into the dining room and Cressida’s mouth drew into a slim line of disapproval as Octavia took the seat opposite Finn at the head of the table, her friends and Eliza beside her. In determining the seating arrangement, neither she nor Finn had particularly claimed the Forthill sisters, and it was just desserts as they ended up in the middle of the table.

  “I have some words,” Finn said and stood as everyone else was seated. His nerves made him curt. Most people wouldn’t perceive it, but she did. “An announcement, actually. About the upcoming nuptials between myself and Miss Hennington.” His eyes came to her and he lifted his glass. “To my soon to be wife, Octavia. The future Lady Fortescue.”

  Everyone joined him in holding up their glasses. Even the Forthill sisters, who looked furious. But right now, Octavia didn’t care about them. Finn might right then have been as handsome as she had ever seen him. There was no nervousness about him now. He looked absolutely pleased and whatever else was, this was always about the two of them.

  Octavia took a deep breath. She was happy. Her friends and family here to celebrate her engagement to a man she loved. Nothing could be better.

  Congratulations came from around the table. Julius seemed pleased, even as he was the one with the greatest hopes for a royal match. Octavia knew he liked Finn. They got on well together. Caius was a little more circumspect. They would get on perfectly well once Caius forgave him for his willingness to steal Eliza away at one point. Eliza, on the other hand, was probably the match's greatest supporter. She approved wholeheartedly.

  The supper continued with a joyous energy and congratulations kept coming. An excellent match, they said. They ate and drank, and enjoyed the evening, until it was time for the women to retire to the salon while the men enjoyed their port and tobacco.

  Rose and Annabelle went to find the privy and Eliza took her seat. Now the evening was starting to wear on her, and Octavia knew they would leave shortly.

  “So, I suppose you should be congratulated,” Cressida said.

  “I suppose I should,” Octavia replied.

  “Not only did you chase away the prince, but you stole Fortescue as well. You do like to get around.”

  Stole was a curious word. It implied that he belonged to them, which had never been the case. And they certainly hadn’t charmed the prince. “I’m simply a difficult person,” she said with a shrug.

  “I hope you’re pleased. You really are the most selfish of creatures.”

  Octavia’s smile was barely more than a grimace at this point. There was no point arguing with this woman, she reminded herself. “I am very happy.”

  Cressida’s smile was putrid. The hate was not going to end anytime soon, Octavia conceded.

  “You do have a habit of bamboozling men. I wonder how you achieve that?” Lydia said tartly. It was a thinly veiled aspersion on her character. They would, of course, assume that she’d manipulated them in some way, because that was a tactic they expected would be deployed. It said more about them than it did about her. One could not steal a person, but there was no point haggling with these women. They would always
see her in a certain light.

  They would never understand that their beauty and inherent superiority weren’t the sole virtues by which they were considered. They would always believe that some kind of trickery was involved.

  “I simply told him how handsome he was,” Octavia said with a shrug. “Can you believe it’s that simple?”

  “I’m sure it wasn’t quite that simple.” They prevented themselves from going that one step too far and making accusations, even as they believed she’d done something unscrupulous. And how could she argue when the truth was that she wasn’t an innocent anymore? Obviously, that had happened after the engagement, but Octavia doubted the Forthill sisters would care.

  As it was, however, Cressida had to be careful, or she would incur Julius’ displeasure. If that was something she would risk in aim of her vindictiveness remained to be seen. It would be to her detriment. Frankly, Octavia didn’t care if everyone knew there had been some degree of passion between her and her fiancé. Obviously, there would be disapproval, but Octavia was used to incurring disapproval. Finn wouldn’t care. Julius probably wouldn’t, but Caius was still touchy.

  “Simple as that, I just stole him away.”

  “He’ll never be happy with you. You’re too... ill-considered. Everyone thinks so. Even your brothers.”

  That was downright unkind. “Yes, I’m sure my brothers discuss their opinion with you.”

  Cressida’s displeasure showed the comment hit a mark. It seemed Julius refused to entertain her malicious opinions. And Caius would never speak to her about family, probably on any topic.

  Leaving them behind, Octavia joined her husband-to-be as the men joined them. “I hope you haven’t run into any difficulties,” he said quietly.

  “Nothing I can't handle. My thievery is both indiscreet and offensive. I hold you under some spell.”

  “Then let’s hope it never ends,” he said and kissed her quickly. It was the first time they’d kissed in view of others, and Octavia blushed. “To indiscretion and offensiveness,” he said and held up his glass of whiskey in a mock toast.

  Octavia smiled, but there was that slight worry in her for her brother. It seemed her worry had shifted from one brother to the other. Was there any point when she could stop worrying about them getting themselves into trouble? Hopefully, her fears were unfounded, but she was worried Julius had chosen very badly.

  But tonight was not about her brother and his decisions. It was about her and Finn, and about this, she had no qualms whatsoever. Above all else, she got the love match she insisted on, and it was better than she’d dared hope. It was now a mere three weeks until they married, and she hoped it wasn’t the longest three weeks of her life.

  “I love you,” he said into her ear and she felt nothing but deliciousness. All she wanted to do right now was kiss him as deeply as she could, but it would be scandalous. Would it be worth it, she wondered. No, best not to. Really, they could wait. It was a mere three weeks until they were married.

  Epilogue

  Octavia kissed Finn’s nose as he lay sleeping on her with their limbs entangled, completely naked. Dawn was cresting and it was time for him to leave again, down the perilous path to the garden where he snuck in at night to come to her. They hadn’t intended on this happening quite so often, but when night fell, all she wanted was him with her, and he couldn’t stay away.

  The urgent desire between them only got better and better. Her body ached for him to arrive, and when he did, they just about ravaged each other.

  So many days, she’d looked exhausted, taking long naps in the afternoons. If Eliza noticed, she didn’t say anything. As it was, sleep couldn’t compete with how badly she needed him to be with her, to touch her and to make her feel so utterly wonderful. She’d had no idea it could be like this between a man and a wife.

  Come that afternoon, they would be married, and this sneaking into her window each night wouldn’t be necessary. They would be on their honeymoon and they could be together all day long, not having to pretend they didn’t spend all night together.

  Finn stirred and kissed her neck. Heat soared in her again. It was a little like the madness the poets spoke about. Her want for him was incessant, and so overwhelmingly powerful. The feel of his skin to hers, them utterly naked like this, there simply wasn’t anything better. “It’s dawn,” he said, his voice gravelly with sleep.

  “Would it be so awful if you stayed? We will be married today.”

  Shifting up and laying down on her again, he looked into her eyes. “Today we marry. You have much to do, and there’s no need to start the morning with scandal. I’ll see you at the church,” he said and kissed her.

  “Maybe just stay a little while longer,” she suggested and wound her leg around his, cradling him between her thighs and grinding to him. The lovely heat reasserted itself. Would she ever get enough of him, or would they want each other like this constantly?

  “You’re trying to bamboozle me and I’m powerless against you,” he said and kissed her. As she relaxed into the kiss, he suddenly drew away from her and sprung out of bed. She felt cheated. “But you will have to wait until your wedding night, Miss Hennington.”

  Walking silently, he pulled on his clothes. “And after tonight, I’ll stop having to come to you like a thief in the night, sneaking out with the dawn light.”

  “You’re so devious, my lord,” she said teasingly as she rose to come to him. The warmth of him met her searching hands, and he took her face in his palms, stroking her cheeks with his thumbs.

  “I am utterly bespelled by you,” he said softly. “I would brave a pit of vipers to come to you. I love you, Octavia Hennington. From today, you’ll be Lady Fortescue and you’ll be mine.” Leaning closer, he kissed her again and she felt the heat of his body to hers. On some level, she felt like she couldn’t breathe unless he was kissing her. She didn’t want him to go. One more day apart. Well, part of it. It would be an insanely busy day with the preparation, the wedding itself, and then lunch after, before they set off to the continent for a whole two months.

  Moving to the window, he opened it and cold air seeped into the room. It assaulted her naked form, but she still wouldn’t leave him until she had to. Would it not be wonderful that they could always stay together from tonight on?

  “Alright, fine, you are just too sensible,” she accused and held his hand a moment more as he swung his leg out the window. Taking her by the back of her neck, he drew her into another kiss. But he was right, it would be a tumultuous and trying day, but also utterly exciting, and she would enjoy it much more with an hour or two more sleep. “I love you,” she said. “Don’t fall.”

  As he stepped out of the window, she closed it to conserve the room’s heat, but she stayed and watched as he climbed down to the garden where he looked up at her and blew a kiss. Maybe this was the moment where he was the handsomest she’d ever seen him. He looked happy and excited, so different from the man she’d first met. How in the world had she been so lucky?

  As he disappeared out of sight, she knew she should get back into bed and get as much sleep as she could, but she took a moment and looked around the garden in the first light of dawn. It was a new day, a new chapter of her life. Not that she hadn’t utterly loved every moment of the last month. It had been thrilling and mischievous, and so utterly rewarding. Better than she’d even imagined it could be.

  There was no doubt she was in love with him, and he was in love with her. Who would have thought after how they’d started?

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