“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 for 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
