From his vantage point, he saw her return to the man she had interest in. And now she was all sunshine and light, as if she was a completely different person.
Before long, he was drawn into conversation about the hunting season. Another activity he didn’t readily engage in—his gamekeeper kept all relevant populations under control sufficiently well without him. Stalking and shooting wasn’t something he was enthusiastic about, but he understood why it was a favorite sport for some seeking to escape the parlors and heated rooms during the autumn.
Easy conversation flowed, and the time came for lunch to be served. The mood of the party was light and joyous. It was a good occasion to throw a party for. Either tomorrow, or the day after, Julius and his bride would start making their way south to Dover, and over to the continent. Italy, he recalled.
The idea of a honeymoon crept into his mind, and then the idea of Octavia next to him, hounding and needling him. His shoulders tensed immediately. Utter insanity. The problem was that he couldn’t think of anyone else either. Eliza had effectively left his mind now, in that regard. But someone like her, calm and controlled, both kind and strong. But he wasn’t seeing anyone like her around. Surely she couldn’t be unique? If that were the case, then Caius Hennington really was the luckiest man in the world, even if he didn’t fully see it.
A bell chimed and people started turning their attention toward a sunroom where a dining table had been set up. It was lovely. Bright and filled with fragrant flowers. Finn wanted a moment and let most people find their seats. When he entered, he was hardly surprised that he saw Octavia sitting next to the target of her attention, James Fevoy, a man Finn had met a time or two, but couldn’t say he knew.
And the glaringly empty seat was the one next to Lydia Forthill. If it was in him, if he behaved like certain others would behave, he would shoot Octavia a filthy look, because this was her doing. But that was not how he behaved.
“Lord Fortescue, come join me,” Lydia said brightly. “You must tell me all about your travels.”
On second thought, would it be out of bounds to throw Octavia a really filthy look? She did deserve it, but he couldn’t bring himself to act so childishly. “Of course,” he said with a tight smile.
Chapter 13
JULIUS LOOKED HAPPY, and Octavia was pleased to see it. Obviously, she didn’t quite understand why he was so happy, but she hoped this marriage was about more than aligning fortunes. Julius took his role as the future head of this family so very seriously.
Beside her sat her father at the head of the table, and James on the other side. She had placed all the pleasant people around this side, including people her father could tolerate, and the specifications were very narrow. Narrow enough to bar even Lord Forthill. Granted, she believed he would actually like Lord Fortescue, but she couldn’t tolerate his presence. It had been much more pleasing to put him with Lydia Forthill, especially as she was now fairly certain he wasn’t falling for her charm. It did suggest that he found their charms rather grating, like she did.
So, he and the Forthills could be in Julius’ domain at the other end of the table. Herself, Caius and Eliza would insulate their father from ‘other people’s idiocy’. And it had the benefit of insulating said idiots from their father’s short temper and cutting tongue. It worked well for everyone.
“I will make a toast,” their father said and stood up. Octavia smiled nervously as she looked around the table. Father rarely gave speeches, and when he did so, he couldn’t help sounding like a judge passing sentence, because that was what he’d been at one point, before he’d retired. “To my son and his pretty bride, I wish all happiness. She is from an excellent family, of course, which no doubt greatly adds to her copious charms.
“So, you have all come here to gawk at them in what is a picture of excited happiness. In the process, I don’t doubt you will eat my food and consume my drink in equally copious amounts. To my son and his pretty wife,” he said, holding up his glass in toast. Everyone guardedly agreed and toasted too.
Octavia breathed a sigh of relief. It could have been much worse. If anyone took offense, they wouldn’t show it.
The main coursed passed quickly. Venison, beautifully prepared. There was no faulting their food.
With his speech done and his meal eaten, her father saw little reason in staying and retired while everyone ate their cream, meringue and damson liquor desert. Dessert never interested him, and neither did the company past what he saw as his duty. Beyond that, he had no interest in the people who’d come to his house.
“Shall we retire to the salon?” Cressida suggested, smiling brightly to the assembled party. It grated Octavia that Cressida took on the role of leading the women, but technically it was her role to take now—irrespective of Octavia being the lead female in this house for more than a decade. It was Cressida’s role now. Still, it was hard to feel that intruders weren’t encroaching on her territory. But it had always been inevitable that Julius marry. Octavia just wished it wasn’t someone she found so irksome.
Octavia joined arms with Eliza as they walked behind the rest of the women.
“How are you?” Eliza asked.
