Miss Octavia Insists (The Henningtons Book 2) Read online

  Finn smiled. As they had been friends, he didn’t feel as justified being rude. “Unfortunately, I am going to be leaving London soon, so I can’t accept any invitations at this point.” This did solidify the fact that he needed to leave for a while. Technically, he was being driven out of town. Hounded, might be a more apt word.

  Saying that, having an uncertain schedule was going to serve him well.

  “You are always welcome. Are you dining tonight?”

  “I am.”

  “Then perhaps we should dine together, unless you have other plans?”

  “It would be my pleasure.”

  Howard checked his watch as if he was making determination of what his options were, then he replaced it into his waistcoat pocket and smiled. “I hear Rutledge has gotten himself into a bit of hot water with his estate.” Rutledge, another classmate, had always been impetuous, and made quick decisions that often turned out to be disastrous. So this wasn’t entirely unexpected. No doubt the man was cursing his ill luck.

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “I’ve been trying to tell him he needs to change some of his farming practices, but you remember, you cannot pin him down to tell him things for the life of him. I’ve made some changes, and have reaped productivity rewards for it.” Howard had always been a farmer at heart. He enjoyed the work and was studious. No doubt, he had the best land management strategies of anyone. It, unfortunately, wasn’t a topic Finn could get enthusiastic about, but he was skilled at hiring good people.

  The supper was enjoyable, going over what they’d heard about their classmates over the years. It entailed gossiping like fishwives, but there were acquaintances in Howard’s circle of friends that Finn hadn’t heard about in a long time. It seemed a lifetime ago since he’d thought about these people who’d been important to him at one time.

  “Why don’t you come over for supper tomorrow night?” Howard suggested.

  “I already have plans with Julius Hennington.”

  “Oh?” Howard said with surprise. “A difficult lot from what I hear. I don’t know him, of course. Well connected. Sizeable estate, too.”

  Finn hadn’t really paid attention to the size of the Hennington estate.

  “Wasn’t there some scandal about the brother’s wife? I recall something from years ago.”

  The statement grated him. It was unfair that Eliza was still tarred by that scandal, but it would never entirely go away, and people who didn’t know her well still perpetuated it. “I have met her. She’s a lovely woman.” Instantly, he disliked Howard, which made him wonder about his own reaction to hearing these old accusations. Maybe it was the unfairness that made him so defensive of her. There had always been something in him that sympathized with the underdog, especially the unfairly treated.

  “I’m afraid I must return home,” Finn said. It was unfair of him for judging Howard on something he brought up just like anyone else would, but he still judged the man for it. “It’s been a pleasure, of course,” Finn said and rose. The supper was done. He could have sat around and chatted for another hour, but he’d lost his enthusiasm for it. “Until next time.” It could well be that the next time he saw Howard, he wouldn’t care, but right now, he did.

  Not lingering, he left the club to emerge on the dark streets of nighttime London. London was never safe, but particularly not for lone figures walking after hours. Finn knew how to hold his own if he had to.

  The evening, however, made him wonder how much of his regard for Eliza Hennington had to do with the injustice done to her. Clearly, he liked her, but his protectiveness might stem from how the world had treated her, including the family she’d belonged to. Perhaps it had colored his view on the Henningtons too. Julius was amusing, and Finn enjoyed his company, but it was perhaps fair to say that his view on Caius Hennington, and by extension, his sister, was colored by how Eliza had been treated in the aftermath of the scandal.

  Like he’d just responded to Howard, his judgment had perhaps been a little harsh. Still, Octavia Hennington was deeply aggravating. Aggravating to the point where he did respond to her maneuvers. Typically he let things like that flow off his back, but she got under his skin. A tiny bit, but enough that he couldn’t deny he reacted to it.

  Chapter 11

  TAKING A DEEP BREATH, Octavia entered the salon where her brothers and their guests were waiting. She smiled brightly, as she was expected to do. Why had Julius been so careless to invite Lord Fortescue? Eliza was even speaking to him as Octavia walked in, and Caius seemed utterly uncaring, standing over by the fire with Julius.

  “Octavia, you finally join us,” Cressida said with a hint of rebuke in her voice. Perhaps she should have been here serving when Cressida arrived. It was Julius who’d invited her, and he could be responsible for entertaining her. If Cressida thought she had a natural slave and companion in her sister-in-law, she had better think again. Octavia wasn’t her brothers’ lapdog, and she certainly wasn’t going to be for their wives.

  Octavia ignored the statement, and the underlying implications. “You look well, Miss Forthill. That’s a beautiful dress.”

  “Thank you. I just had it made. It’s the latest fashion from Paris.”

  Oh, and how she didn’t care. It was a nice dress, but she’d only said it for something to say. Unfortunately, she was stuck with the woman now, because Julius wasn’t taking care of her. “I’m trying to encourage Caius and Eliza to take a trip to the continent. They like Paris, so going to enjoy the city would do them good.”

  Now Cressida didn’t care about the conversation. “We’ve been speaking about Italy,” she said. “Julius has a soft spot.”

  Smiling tightly, Octavia grated at being told what her brother’s preferences were from someone who barely knew him. Further to her displeasure, Lydia Forthill walked into the room. “Another guest,” Octavia said, having been unaware that Lydia had been invited. “I hope you’re well, Miss Lydia,” Octavia said as the Lydia joined them.

  “Of course. Never better,” she replied sweetly. Lydia’s eyes immediately sought Lord Forthill. Their intention was transparent. It seemed the Forthill sisters had set their intention of the title of Lady Fortescue for Lydia. For the fact that it would tie Lord Fortescue to the family for eternity, she couldn’t care less. As it was, this couldn’t be a tolerated match.

  Lydia looked lovely, and Octavia suspected a great deal of thought had gone into her appearance that night. Her dress was light green and made of layers of the thinnest silk. It was a stunning dress, the layers flowing as she walked. No expense had been spared on the Forthill women’s wardrobes.

  Curiously, neither of them asked anything about her. An oversight, Octavia was sure.

  “I understand Lord Forthill will be leaving London for a while,” Cressida said. “Is he perhaps returning to his estate?” As if she would know.

  “I have heard a rumor that something unfortunate has happened to his estate due to constant underinvestment and neglect. Only a rumor, so I have no idea if it is true.” Having no loyalty to protect Fortescue’s reputation, she felt little qualms about engaging in the little falsities. Well, perhaps she didn’t feel good about it, but the look of concern on the women’s faces showed their dismay. And really, if she were to discourage people who were solely interested in him for the size of his estate, she would be doing him a distinct favor.

  If she were a man, she could be called out for such a statement. Perhaps it was bad form. Sometimes, winning made her lose sight of the broader context. Then again, Lord Fortescue’s wealth and position would survive a carelessly cast aspersion. Only an idiot would believe such a rumor.

  Eliza’s laugh drew Octavia’s attention and she left the Forthill girls behind. Really, Caius should be doing something. Smiling, she approached and kissed Eliza on the cheek before giving her hand to Lord Fortescue. “Good evening,” she said. No doubt the Forthill girls were upset behind her back. “Such a lovely evening.”

  “I am honored to be
invited to your beautiful home.”

  General and expected platitudes. They both played their parts.

  “Lord Fortescue, you know my sister, of course,” Cressida said, having joined them. Lydia angled herself in the best possible light.

  “Has Mrs. Broadman returned from her journey?” Octavia asked, a conversation the Forthills had no interest in.

  “Yes, it was a very successful tour.”

  Oh, great, so the business would be growing again. On one hand, she was proud of Eliza doing so well, but on the other, it seemed to require more of her attention. “That is wonderful. I was just telling Miss Forthill how you and Caius were considering a trip to Paris.”

  “I adore Paris,” Lydia said. “I hope to go again myself someday.” By that she meant her honeymoon. “Have you been, Lord Fortescue?” Her expression was both wistful and coy. Clearly, Octavia’s petty statement hadn’t put either of them off.

  “I went as a young man.”

  “Did you do a tour?”

  “Yes.”

  Octavia hadn’t known this, but then why would she know?

  “You must have gone to Italy, then,” Cressida said. “Julius is very keen to return.”

  “Supper is ready to serve,” Mr. Tennyson said as he entered the room.

  Lydia Forthill ducked in and placed her arm in the crook of Lord Fortescue’s arm. “I’m famished,” she said with a smile. The action was brazen, but it would likely mean Fortescue would take the seat next to her.

  “I think someone has a soft spot for Lord Fortescue,” Eliza said.

  Octavia snorted. “The whole family, apparently. I doubt he’ll be able to sustain the assault. He’s leaving London. Perhaps to get away from the sustained campaign.”

  Eliza chuckled and chided her at the same time. “You can’t say such things.”

  “I wouldn’t doubt if it’s true. He is the most eligible bachelor of the season.” And Octavia had made sure to point that out to the right people. Shortly after, it turned out that Lord Fortescue was leaving London. It had to be cumbersome to be such a sought-after prize. Lydia Forthill had considerable competition. If she’d thought of it, she would have invited some of the most attractive contenders, but she hadn’t known people had been invited for matching purposes.

  Of course Lydia sat next to Lord Forthill on Julius’ left, with Cressida on his right. Octavia took Caius’ left and Eliza his right. It accommodated Lydia in a placing they hadn’t originally planned for. Or maybe Julius had known, but hadn’t shown the foresight to invite yet another guest to make it even numbers.

  The soup course was served and it was a familiar and comforting taste. As soon as it was finished, Julius clinked his wineglass with a small spoon. “Now I need to make an announcement,” he said, looking nervous.

  This was a moment Octavia hadn’t looked forward to. Cressida was beaming.

  “As most of you are aware, Cressida has agreed to make me the happiest of men by becoming my wife. The engagement is to be announced in the papers in the morning, and the banns posted. We are to marry in one month.”

  “Congratulations,” were heard from several parties around the room. Lydia was dabbing her eyes with the napkin, being so overcome by emotion for something that everyone knew was happening. Octavia wanted to roll her eyes, but it was an inappropriate moment. This was Julius’ moment, and he had decided he wanted to make his life with Cressida Forthill. “Congratulations, brother,” Caius said and held up his glass for a toast.

  “We are naturally very excited about this and hope you will all celebrate with us. An engagement ball is planned.” Not something Julius would have promoted, but finally the ballroom would get a proper airing. “You are all most heartily invited.”

  “You will come, won’t you?” Lydia said pleadingly to Lord Forthill, as if she would be personally hurt if he didn’t. This time, Octavia couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes, but she looked away while she did it.

  “Well, I...” Fortescue started, looking slightly trapped. “If possible, I will try to make it.”

  Oh, and he succumbed. Octavia wasn’t sure her opinion of him could sink lower. But then men didn’t see past the Forthill women’s charms to the hardened and manipulative creatures underneath.

  But speaking of a ball, she would have to see that James Fervoy was invited. Really, instead of focusing on Lord Forthill and his succumbing to Lydia’s charms, she should direct her attention in a more delightful direction. There had been a few light and playful correspondences between her and James in the last week. It was an interesting development, but now it was time for him to show some initiative.

  “Who doesn’t love a ball?” Caius said tartly.

  “Well, it’s Julius’ engagement, so you can’t even think of crying off,” Octavia said. “And really, if you don’t dance with your wife, I’m sure others would be all too keen to.”

  “Octavia,” Eliza chided.

  “She is much too pretty to leave alone,” Octavia countered with a wink.

  Chapter 12

  MANCHESTER WAS RAINY and gray outside the window as Finn made his way to the offices of Hollers, Smith and Stanley. The invitation to come hear their proposal on railways in Africa had been something he’d initially dismissed, but after mulling it over, he’d become more intrigued. Rail would increase the speed of both people and goods movement across the continent. This particular proposal was more toward the North East side, an area he didn’t normally invest in. Although he knew quite a few people who were utterly fascinated by Egypt and its long past.

  The heavy rain kept the streets sparser than they normally were. No one traveled around in weather like this unless they had to. At times, he wished he’d stayed home, but suspected he would regret it if he didn’t come hear this proposal.

  In the end, he’d foregone the Hennington engagement ball, even after Miss Lydia Forthill’s fervent request that he attend. No doubt the girl would chide him if given the opportunity. Going would have given her the wrong message, and probably her family as well. If he’d been genuinely interested in her, he would have made the effort, but he didn’t want to suggest that he was.

  With a wife like her, he’d be hounded to attend every season for the rest of his life. The idea was mortifying. The amusements of polite society weren’t for him, and the little time he’d spent in London this year had been more uncomfortable than not.

  Upsetting Julius Hennington by not coming had been a risk he’d been prepared to take, but he couldn’t be too offended, because an invitation had arrived to attend a house party post the wedding to send them off on their honeymoon. It sounded acceptable, and potentially like it would be a gathering without dancing.

  As of yet, he hadn’t accepted the invitation, although he liked Julius, and actually enjoyed his observations with regard to some of the people he knew, and their intention related to their business interests. Julius’ friendships with people in the foreign office provided some interesting tidbits about what was going on within the larger empire’s interest.

  During their evening around the cards table, they’d spoken about Africa, and they had mutual interest. But he also found Julius enjoyable to spend time with. Unfortunately his sister came as part of the package, along with her mission to keep him away from Eliza Hennington. It was almost flattering the degree to which she thought him a threat. Did she not see how Eliza looked at her husband?

  For him, that ship had sailed. Even if her marriage wasn’t perfect, even if it failed, he would never be the one she wanted to be with. It was both disappointing, as well as encouraging—that love actually meant something. A marriage should be something one doesn’t get over quickly. And that was the reason he could not encourage Lydia Forthill—he didn’t feel that way about her, and although he could be cordial and respectful to her, he would never love her.

  The carriage arrived and his footman opened the door with an umbrella ready. The building he entered was finely appointed, a collection of offices f
or various companies. The entrance sought to make a good impression and the inside was decorated with foreign marble and ornately carved wood. Hollers, Smith and Stanley couldn’t be faring too badly if they could afford offices like this.

  Mr. Hollers met him and greeted him like a treasured friend after they’d only met once before. “Awful weather we’re having,” he said as he led Finn through to an office. The room he was taken to had a large mahogany table and dark paneling on the wall. A fire roared in the grate, so it was warm at least.

  Two other men had been invited to attend. Mr. Cockroft, who’d made significant money selling industrial boilers, and the elderly Sir Reiner, whom anyone who invested knew as a stalwart in business. If Reiner was interested, then it was a good group of men to be included in.

  The proposal was well prepared, and they discussed the rail extension they were planning down into the Sudan. They spoke about the goods that the railway would move and the companies it would support.

  It was interesting, but Finn found his mind wandering when it came to some of the details. Reiner seemed to take in every detail, carefully noting things that he wanted to remember in a small leather-bound notebook. Maybe this was him in the future, curating his investments with meticulous interest. It wouldn’t strictly be a future he was opposed to, but it wasn’t one where he wanted to live miserly by himself in a large house.

  The tug and pull of the competition between the Hennington siblings had proven inordinately interesting to him. And as annoying as he found Octavia Hennington, it was admirable how fiercely she tried to protect her brother. Julius had said she was afraid Caius would leave again. That was something he perhaps understood but didn’t have a great deal of experience with. Who would he miss if they went away? Mostly his butler. That wasn’t a good state of affairs, was it? Granted, Mr. Fuller felt like family—a man Finn had known all his life. Fuller had done more to care for him than anyone else had.