“But as it stands,” he continued and Octavia gritted her teeth. “Your and my opinion are entirely unimportant on other people’s relationships. Character and intent speak for themselves, irrespective of what either of us thinks about it.”
Everything she feared was real. This man was waiting for an opportunity to pounce. Caius had to be warned, because Fortescue couldn’t be allowed to interfere with Eliza’s and Caius’ happiness. “There is also something to be said for not interfering in other people’s marriages. I believe it's extremely frowned upon.”
“I don’t think we were discussing interference of any kind. Merely that relationships take the course of reflecting the character of the two people involved. History is the best predictor for the future.”
If she were a man, she would call this man out, maybe even insist that her brother’s honor be avenged. “Well, I find that arrogant assumptions often leave people disappointed, as I can assure you, you will be. Because when it comes down to it, Caius has something no man can compete with.”
“And what is that?” This was amusing him, and that made her even angrier. How dare he be so callous about something so important? In fact, she wanted to hit him with something larger than her fan.
“Eliza loves him,” she stated matter-of-factly. For while Eliza might have been flattered by this man’s attention, she loved Caius. “Simply a fact. You should place your attention elsewhere. Lydia Forthill is a lovely young woman. You should make sure to dance with her. Lady Forthill would be very disappointed if you don’t.”
“Except that would send a message I’m not prepared to send. Would it perhaps not be crueler to get the young woman’s hopes up when I don’t actually have any intention with regards to the aforementioned young woman?”
This man had the audacity to toy with her. “Because she is a much more suitable match and a much better pursuit than entertaining ambitions for other men’s wives. It is deeply frowned on, you see, and you will be seen as an untrustworthy man in this society.” Well, two could play this game.
The expression in his eyes changed. “Let me make this clear, Miss Hennington. I don’t interfere with other people’s marriages, but if some walk away from theirs completely of their own accord, I have no qualms seeing the jewel that their idiocy has left behind.”
The man could certainly be sharp when he wanted to be.
“Something that isn’t going to happen, I assure you. I have the benefit of knowing both of the parties referred to within this conversation much better than you do.”
“As I said, their actions will speak for themselves.”
Oh, how she wanted to say that Eliza was with child right then and watch that smugness melt from his face. Why wasn’t she with child yet? Surely Caius wasn’t so slow in moving that it was something they weren’t... doing.
His hand at her lower back felt burning hot as they swung around and then broke apart again. How she wished this dance would end now. But now, they squared off again, hands meeting in front of them.
If it wasn’t for the fact that this man was interested in her sister-in-law, she would be impressed by a man who actually knew what he wanted. In this case, however, he was simply not going to get it. It was too bad for him that he’d set his sights on someone who wasn’t available, and a part of a family who protected her marriage. If only Octavia could get Julius to take this threat seriously, but he was off with his insipid fiancée. It was deeply disappointing. Equally, Caius was utterly ignoring this threat, when he should be chasing this man out of town.
Chapter 8
WHEN THE DANCE BROKE, Finn led Octavia Hennington back to where he’d found her and bowed before taking his leave. If she hadn’t pressed him into it, he would never have danced with her, and it seemed the intent was to warn him off.
Having had enough of dancing, he took himself to the cards room, which was thick with tobacco smoke, and away from the colorful displays and hopeful young women.
“Managed to escape her?” a man asked. Julius Hennington. Finn had seen him earlier when the Forthill family had been receiving. Personally, Finn wasn’t sure of the wisdom in aligning oneself to this family. Granted, they were prominent, and probably not worse than many others. In the time or two he’d met Cressida Forthill, she hadn’t left the best impression on him.
But judging from how Octavia had just treated him, perhaps this was a family with a comparable sense of entitlement.
“Who?” Finn asked.
“My sister. Please, have a seat,” he said, indicating the spare chair at the table.
“I’m not much of a player.” It had never been an activity he’d invested a great deal of time in. Mostly, he’d just now sought the cards table to get away from the mercenary eyes traveling the other room, seeking matches for their young wards. But he took the offered seat and drew out his tobacco pouch. “A whiskey, if you’d be so kind,” he said to the waiter who approached him. “Miss Hennington was a cordial dancing partner,” he finally said and Julius chuckled.
“I doubt that. She’s on the warpath when it comes to you.”
“She did warn me off,” Finn said succinctly.
“I’m surprised she didn’t run you through with a spit and roasted you over the fire.”
“She didn’t mince words.”
“Don’t pay her any mind. Her intentions are good, but at times, she tackles her tasks with vigor.” Tackled was probably a good word for it. “She takes it upon herself to protect us mere men from our own foolishness.”
That still couldn’t mean she approved of how the Forthill women had treated her tonight. If she’d been a proponent of Julius’ marriage
