Chapter 7
CRESSIDA BEHAVED AS IF completely unaware that she’d placed Octavia in the most undesirable section of the supper table. She was sweetness personified, but Octavia knew full well that it was her doing. Until now, she hadn’t known the girl saw her as such a threat. In most ways, it didn’t make sense, was even counterintuitive, but some couldn’t help but be competitive with other women, for any reason.
This didn’t spell well for coexisting after Julian married her. Maybe the girl had heard that she’d been trying to convince Julius to make another choice. If so, her behavior was understandable. It would also mean that Julius had blabbed about her, and that could not be forgiven. She would have to give Julius a piece of her mind, which he rarely enjoyed. Things told to him in confidence needed to stay that way.
It was tricky with wives. Caius and Eliza were very secretive about themselves and their activities. Neither of them could be drawn into conversation about how the relationship was going. Everything was fine, apparently.
During supper, Octavia had observed how Lady Forthill had fawned over Lord Fortescue. At one point, Octavia had encouraged the match, but if he ended up with Lydia Forthill, it would mean he would be around at family events, being part of Julius’ in-laws. That couldn’t be a good thing, so Lord Fortescue taking an interest in Lydia should be discouraged. How could one man be so troublesome?
The dancing started and Octavia searched the room for both Lord Fortescue and James Fervoy, who hadn’t asked her to dance yet. In all honesty, getting a man to pay attention to her wasn’t difficult. Usually it required little more than a smile, and her power of attraction was true. James approached. “Miss Hennington. A pleasure to see you. I understand congratulations are in order for your brother. A fortuitous match.”
“If one could tolerate it.” After the snub at supper, Octavia felt little loyalty. “How are you? It's been an age since I’ve seen you. I hope your summer was splendid.”
“Stupendous. How is your father?”
“As cantankerous as ever. Now, you have been very remiss in asking me to dance,” she said, tapping him lightly on his arm with her fan in admonishment.
“A grave oversight, I assure you. Miss Hennington, it would be my immense pleasure if you would join me on the dancefloor this evening.”
“I would be delighted. You would, by far, be the handsomest of my dancing partners this evening.”
The barest touch of pink colored his cheeks at the compliment. If he didn’t call on her after this, then he was a clod. But it didn’t do to give men too much attention. It gave them the wrong ideas. “Then I look forward to our dance. Farewell until then,” she said with a smile before wandering off. It would never do for the man to be the one to leave the conversation.
“Miss Hennington,” a man said, drawing her attention. Lord Fortescue. Just wonderful. “You promised me a dance.”
Truthfully, she’d expected him to forget about the promise. Perhaps he was a man who followed through with his promises no matter what. Surely he didn’t want to dance with her? That would also be an unwelcome outcome. “Of course,” she said with a tight smile.
“Then I will claim it at the earliest opportunity.”
“That is wise, I’m sure.”
Relenting, she placed her gloved hand in his and he led her onto the dancefloor, where the gathered pairs were preparing for a quadrille. They took their places and waited for the music to start.
“You are my sister-in-law’s landlord, I believe.”
“That is correct.”
The steps started and he took her hand. He was handsome. No wonder Eliza had been flattered by his attention. On some level, Octavia could see that they’d make a handsome couple. Then again, what kind of man accepted a divorcee as his wife? It made her curious. Not that she personally thought divorce was such a sin that a person could not exist in society. Many did, but not this man, apparently.
Divorcees typically had very few good options. Eliza would have been fine with the business she started. And this man who had been interested in her. And most likely, he still was. It hadn’t gone unobserved that his gaze had veered in that direction a few times during supper. People might lie, but their eyes rarely did.
“I believe Eliza expects the business will be handed over to her business partner more and more.”
He didn’t say anything, instead effortlessly moved through the steps. Dancing didn’t scare him, but it didn’t enthuse him either. If not for Eliza, he probably wouldn’t have considered it at all.
“It’s always hard to know the future,” he finally said.
“Oh, I don’t know. When it comes to Caius and Eliza, there have always been feelings that have run deep between them. It was a love match, you see.”
“Well, they ran far too,” he replied. “Deep feelings don’t always mean constancy.”
“Oh, my brother is very constant,” she shot back.
“People who seek an excuse to leave will always find one.”
The steps moved them apart for a moment, and then back together. “I don’t think you understand the nature of their relationship.”
A small smile graced his lips. “There is a sympathetic perspective on every story.”
“Pray tell, what do you mean?”
“A sister is often blind to a brother’s faults.”
Was that enough of an affront to slap him? Because she really wanted to. How dare he say
