Miss Octavia Insists (The Henningtons Book 2) Read online

  “It will have to wait until next time,” Eliza said with a smile.

  “It seems everyone is gathered,” Octavia said, gently pushing between them. The subtle pushiness made him smile. A lioness protecting her brood from the invader.

  “Fortescue,” Julius said. “Why don’t you come to supper some night during the week?”

  “I’m sure he’s much too busy for that,” Octavia said with shock that her brother would do such a thing.

  “I would love to,” Finn replied. On one level, he found he actually enjoyed Julius’ company, and on another, nothing he could do would bother Octavia more than becoming friends with her brother. Again, Caius didn’t particularly react. Eliza even seemed pleased.

  “I’ll have an invitation sent around. And I’m sure my sister will behave cordially.” There was lightning communication happening between Octavia and her brother’s eyes. Some kind of challenge, perhaps.

  “Of course,” she said as if it was the most unnecessary suggestion. “It will be an absolute pleasure.”

  “Then we will take our leave,” Caius said. “Don’t bet the house.”

  The narrowed look indicated there was definitely some rivalry between the brothers. Unfortunately, he didn’t fully understand these family dynamics. Love and competition at the same time. Julius’ words about his sister had been both dismissive and very tender.

  “Ah, here everyone is,” Cressida Forthill said, approaching the table. “I was starting to wonder.”

  Finn felt Octavia tense beside him, but her smile never faltered. “Care for another dance?” he found himself asking.

  “No, but thank you. I need some rest,” she said and left them.

  “Father has some people he would like you to meet,” Cressida continued, smiling serenely.

  Caius and Eliza said their final goodbyes, and Finn found himself left with Julius and his intended. “Then I will seek him presently,” Julius said. “Where did you see him last?”

  “Toward the dining room.”

  “Well, then. As the round is finished. let’s see what delight he has in store for us,” he said and rose. “Forthill,” he said with a nod, and Finn was left wondering if he should follow Caius’ leave and end the evening. Truthfully, after this, he wasn’t sure he could handle any more dancing and flirting. His meager tolerance had been worn out.

  Chapter 9

  “HOW COULD YOU INVITE him to supper?” Octavia demanded as she found Julius in the dining room. It was close to midday.

  “Not so loudly, please.”

  “Why shouldn’t I?” Octavia said just as loudly. “You invited that man around when we’re supposed to be pushing him away.”

  “Because your efforts are unnecessary.”

  “How can you say that? It’s pure arrogance on your part. Your belief that Hennington men are naturally irresistible and can expect no competition is simply delusional.”

  “Maybe it’s Eliza I have greater faith in.”

  “She may not show it, but she’s been very angry with Caius, for years. Her trust was utterly broken. If you think their relationship is rock solid, you are delusional. There is still ample opportunity for Caius to stupidly scupper this marriage.”

  “He isn’t the young man he was when he left.”

  Really, judging by Julius’ choice of fiancée, the notion that the Hennington men were wise was immediately overturned. On this thing, she felt torn. She wanted to be supportive of Julius’ choice, but Cressida was simply not the person she would choose. Not that there was a contender standing in the wings. Her brother was onerous, difficult and stubborn. She should be grateful he’d found anyone at all. And maybe it was a good choice. In terms of family alignment, it was a very good match. And truthfully, Cressida’s snobbishness matched Julius’, so they were well suited in that regard.

  “The least you could do would be not to tempt fate and invite that man to everything.”

  “I invited him to one supper. It is hardly anything. He’s quite good company. I like him. And who’s to say that having him around won’t remind Caius not to take anything for granted. It might actually serve them well.”

  It was hard to argue the logic. The fact that Eliza had another choice, a very good one, was probably a good reminder to Caius to hold what he cared about very closely.

  “Reasonable people are quite rare,” Julius continued. “The man is also very good at making investments.”

  Octavia rolled her eyes. She should have known there would be some selfish reason for why Julius wanted to associate with this man.

  Julius buttered some toasted bread. “I find the choices he’s made in that regard rather inspiring. And I cannot tell you how rare that is. He’s an interesting man.”

  First Eliza and now Julius. The man wasn’t that charming. Granted, Eliza’s loyalty stemmed from the man standing by her throughout a very grim period. To Eliza that said much about his character, but Octavia wasn’t quite as convinced. Men were sometimes very honorable when it served what they wanted, and in this case, he’d wanted Eliza. Her loyalty could be completely misplaced.

  With a huff, she left the dining room and returned to her tea in the sunroom. Right now, she felt a little betrayed by Julius. Clearly her brother couldn’t see how attractive Lord Fortescue was. Lydia Forthill certainly could. The girl had been vying for his attention throughout the party, and Octavia was pleased to say he hadn’t seemed all that enthusiastic about it.

  And then there was the issue of how to deal with the rudeness of the Forthills. Octavia had a forgiving nature, but it only went so far. That wasn’t true. If people acted callously, or stupidly, she wasn’t all that forgiving at all. So what should she do about the cut they’d delivered to her? She certainly wasn’t one to slink away and lament it. They didn’t know her if they expected she would take this lying down. And she certainly wasn’t going to be Cressida’s whipping post when Julius and her married. No, that was not happening at all, even as Cressida seemed to be setting up their future relations in that direction.

  No, there had to be consequences for their actions. She just wasn’t sure how she wanted to mete it out yet. But would she go so far as to ruin Julius’ and her engagement? Julius seemed intent and keen on marrying her, and she understood that he did so to improve the prospects of the family—his children. It was an aim she understood. Ruining his plans because his in-laws had behaved atrociously was petty. Revenge was best when it was elegant rather than petty. Fundamentally, although she would be quite happy to rub Julius’ face in the dirt a time or two, she didn’t want to harm his prospects.

  Mr. Tennyson appeared and Octavia looked over. “What’s happened?” she asked. Rarely did he disturb her when she had her tea, and would only do so if direct action was required.

  “Lady Warwick has come to call,” Tennyson said with his typical solemnity.

  “Oh,” Octavia said with surprise. Normally she wouldn’t meet callers this early, or in the sunroom, but it was Eliza. “Please, bring her here.”

  Mere moments later, Eliza appeared, looking too informal for her station. Her dress was much too simple and her hair was tied back in a braid. This wasn’t the kind of social calling one normally did. “Eliza,” she said and rose to kiss her sister-in-law on the cheek. “How are you?”

  Her cheeks were rosy and her eyes clear. She looked happy. “Well,” she said. “I hope you had a marvelous time last night. It was a lovely party. When are they going to formally announce the betrothal?”

  “Ideally never, but I doubt I’ll be so lucky.”

  “Some of their behavior was a little curious.” So Eliza had noticed the slight. She didn’t always pay attention to such things.

  “They’re a lovely family,” Octavia said tartly. “Adorable, especially as we are to be tied to them for perpetuity.”

  “They seem well matched in some regards,” Eliza said carefully.

  “In that they are both dreadful snobs. Yes, they are well-matched in that regard.”


  “I suspect they’re trying to enforce the pecking order,” Eliza said, as if she was trying to explain away their behavior. Clearly she was worried that Octavia had taken the cut to heart. Sometimes Eliza was so very innocent. A true paradox, innocent but strong as steel when she needed to be. In all that had happened, she’d managed to keep her heart from darkening. She really was a jewel—and maybe even too good for Caius.

  “How is my brother?”

  “Well, he has some compendium he wished to attend this morning. It wasn’t something that particularly interests me, so I thought I would come see how you are.”

  “As good as always. Tea?”

  “I would love some.”

  Tennyson had brought another cup and Octavia sat forward and poured the tea, topping up her own cup as well. “The weather is turning. It’s getting colder in the mornings. I find I quite enjoy the dark, rainy days after a long, hot summer.” It wasn’t particularly dark today, light gray perhaps. “And how is Mrs. Broadman?”

  “She’s traveling at the moment, and she’s taken her children with her this time.”

  Which meant there was no reason Eliza shouldn’t stay with Caius. At a guess, Octavia believed she had the previous night. “Speaking of, have you and Caius spoken any more about taking a trip to the continent?”

  “Not recently.”

  “You should go. I think it would do you both good. You’ve both worked very hard in the last few months, so some time away to explore would serve you well. Who knows, it might serve as marvelous inspiration for you.”

  “Well, I don’t have time so much to create any of the booklets, these days. I am so focused on the management of the business.”

  “Perhaps you need to bring a third party into the business, someone well suited for those tasks.”

  “Well...” Eliza said with uncertainty. “It would be difficult to find the right person.” Octavia wasn’t sure that was true at all. Eliza was struggling to let go. This was her baby, a business she’d grown from nothing at all. Caius clearly wasn’t pushing her to step away. Then again, if Eliza decided she wanted to walk on hot coals, he would probably encourage her in that too. “Now, I did come here to speak to you about something. Lord Fortescue.”

  Octavia rolled her eyes. “What about him?”

  “He’s a good man, a good friend. You don’t need to be so...guarded around him.”

  Guarded was entirely the wrong word, but Eliza couldn’t bring herself to say that Octavia had been rude, which she most certainly had. “It does no man harm to receive a bit of rude treatment every once in a while. Does them good. It stops them from thinking so highly of themselves, and Lord Fortescue thinks very well of himself. Probably too well.”

  “I’m just saying it’s unnecessary.” Which was actually quite encouraging as Eliza felt he provided no threat to her and Caius’ marriage. But it also showed that she liked him sufficiently to not like him being treated with a bit of abrasion. “He is a good man.” Yes, she’d already mentioned that. “I believe he’s looking for a wife. Not in the most apparent manner, perhaps.”

  “I think he still has hopes for you.” He’d as much as said so, but there was no point highlighting his directness in stating it to Eliza. “I suggested he try his luck with Lydia Forthill. She seemed welcoming of the idea.”

  The slight frown on Eliza’s face showed she didn’t enthusiastically embrace the idea, which now confused Octavia. Was that because it concerned Eliza to see him turn his attention elsewhere, or was it the direction he would turn it to?

  “She is very pretty,” Eliza said. “But I’m not sure it would be a good match.”

  “Can you think of a better one?”

  The question seemed to stump her. “I’m afraid I don’t know the complement of women well enough to say. Maybe someone a little more... Who am I to say?” She remained quiet for a moment. “Judging by past behavior, he isn’t necessarily seeking someone who’s overly concerned about their own advancement.”

  The statement was obviously true as he tipped his hat to a lone woman who was about to be decimated by a divorce. It made Octavia wonder what it was in Eliza that had attracted him so. Perhaps it was that quiet strength. Or maybe it was that Eliza cared and protected the people in her inner circle, people she saw as family—which had also driven her here today to ensure Octavia wasn’t devastated by the Forthills’ cut. Or was she here to make things easier for Lord Fortescue? Was he a part of her inner circle now too?

  “We should definitely find him someone appropriate to marry,” Octavia said. “As soon as possible.” Nothing would dispel him as a threat as getting his own bride to fuss over. Lydia Forthill was perhaps a choice made in bad faith. “I suppose we could think of someone. The quiet girls tend to be hard to spot, but they might suit him better. You know him more than I do.”

  “I don’t know him all that well, actually. He’s been very kind and he fixes everything in the warehouse that I ask him to. That’s not enough to say I know him.”

  Maybe setting Eliza to the task of finding him a wife was a poor outcome here.

  “I know. I’ll talk to Lady Balham. She’s notoriously good at finding matches for men. She’s responsible for quite a few successful marriages. A gifted matchmaker.”

  “I’m not sure Lord Fortescue would readily admit he’s looking for a wife.”

  “Well, the wonderful thing about men is that you don’t have to pay any attention to what they say. They don’t know their own minds half the time. Sometimes, one must simply do what’s best for them.”

  Eliza looked uncomfortable, but Octavia quite liked this idea. And not solely for the reason that Lord Fortescue would despise it. He’d thrown the gauntlet, so he could live with the results of it. If she did this right, he might just come to the attention of the most persistent matchmaker in society. Only marriage would get him out of this, unless he picked up and ran. Either way suited Octavia.

  Chapter 10

  FINN STARTED RECEIVING invitations, stacks of them. But there was only one he was really interested in—Julius Hennington’s. Why, he wasn’t entirely sure. They seemed an interesting group of people. Although, partially he also wanted to be there because Octavia Hennington really didn’t want him to be.

  Perhaps it was frivolous, but he found he enjoyed this... spat.

  As the sun went down, he took himself off to the club, intent on dining there again. Suppers alone were starting to grate. It had never used to, but he was noticing the stark silence. If he could undo this awareness, he probably would, but he liked company, and he liked to be able to leave it behind when he’d had enough.

  “Good evening,” the doorman said as he arrived, and he felt the warmth inside as he walked in. The club did all it could to be comfortable and welcoming, and he was being seduced by its sedate charms. “Welcome,” one of the barmen said as he approached. The room was paneled with wood and the floor covered with oriental rugs.

  “A whiskey,” he requested and then took a seat at one of the reading tables.

  “Ah, Fortescue,” said a man Finn barely recognized. “Good to see you. I believe my wife sent you an invitation to supper one night.”

  Finn barely hid his grimace. “Yes, unfortunately, it seems I’ll be leaving London soon, and can’t accept,” Finn lied. He had no plans, but he was starting to wonder if coming to London had been a mistake. It seemed he was being inundated with requests for his presence, and he didn’t have the energy or inclination to be tolerant. “I’m honored by the invitation, of course.”

  “That is a downright shame. Your name is being mentioned in certain circles.”

  “Oh?”

  “You are one of the most eligible bachelors in the city this year.”

  “I’m not sure where that idea comes from.”

  “Simply a natural consequence of being unwed.”

  A damned nuisance. Being inundated with requests for his time wasn’t something he wanted, or had bargained for. Social engagements were some
thing he wanted to accept at his own pace. Once or twice a week, perhaps—with people he enjoyed engaging with. He sighed, trying to think how he could enforce this. Maybe he should just ignore them and damn the rudeness. It wasn’t as if he’d given any indication he wanted to attend suppers and events with people he barely knew. They weren’t associations he’d encouraged.

  “Damned shame,” the man said. At least he had no interest to carry on the discussion now. He’d been sent on his mission, probably by his wife, and now there was nothing else to gain. It showed the man wasn’t particularly interested in the association either.

  Grabbing the discarded paper, Finn read for a while and discouraged other approaches. Really, behavior like that shouldn’t be encouraged.

  “Fortescue?” a voice said and Finn bent down his paper.

  “Howard. I didn’t realize you were a member of this club.” The man sat down and shifted until he was comfortable. They’d known each other at Oxford, and Finn hadn’t seen him since. Time hadn’t been kind to his hairline.

  “I don’t come often. How are you? It’s been years.”

  “Well. I’ve only recently started coming myself.”

  “I understand you’ve inherited your title. I heard something to the like.”

  “Yes, my father passed, unfortunately.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. It sounds like you had a good relationship.” Howard shifted in his seat again.

  “Mostly.” A wedding band graced the man’s finger. “And I think I heard that congratulations are in order for your marriage. Belated.”

  “Yes. I married Elizabeth Bartley of the Devon Bartleys. We’re in town for her younger sister. I felt I’d got away scot-free from having to do a season when I married Lizzie, but here we are, designated to go to every ball possible.”

  “I’m trying to avoid it myself.”

  “Well, when you marry, you marry the whole family, and their problems.” Howard sounded tired. On the surface, he wasn’t a good advertisement for marriage. “You should come to supper one night.”