“I think it would be more comfortable in the garden. We can string lights. The formal ballroom feels too… formal. Then we can have everything in one space, rather than spread out.”
“Shall we dance around the roasting pig, then?” Mr. Fuller said tartly. The man had a habit of being acerbic in his old age. It depended on the weather, Finn knew. His bones hurt and it affected his humor. Except the weather was tolerable at the moment. Mr. Fuller was simply aging, and it was another link with his past and his family that he would eventually lose.
Truth was that he probably had to retire Mr. Fuller before the man suggested he should, perfectly happy to continue until he dropped dead if given the choice. It would be an injustice if he had no leisure in his older age, even if he didn’t appreciate it being forced on him. For now, Finn couldn’t bring himself to being without the closest thing to family he had. At some point, his desire would become unjust.
Chapter 3
THE TOWNHOUSE HAD AN unloved feeling when Octavia arrived, as if the rooms had suffered with the lack of occupancy, and the assault of the summer sun. They weren’t uncared for as such, as the staff kept them in perfect tidiness.
“Has there been any news of my brother?” she asked Mrs. Monty, who’d come ahead to revive the townhouse.
“No, I believe he is still at his estate.”
“Well, how long is he going to linger there?” A general question rather than one expecting an answer. “He must have been away for months, while Eliza has stayed in town. It’s not the time to be careless.” Only a foolish person wouldn’t realize that the staff knew exactly what was going on with the family members, and they had kept as abreast of the Caius and Eliza saga as anyone else.
Caius had his own townhouse now, having inherited his uncle's estate and title. Before Julius, which was a sore point for her oldest brother.
Few people might be in town yet, but Eliza was here. Octavia decided to call on her that evening. It was unfortunate that Caius hadn’t convinced her to go with him, but she could well imagine him determining it wouldn’t be an ideal time as he was busy with the harvest. Caius was silly that way. But so was Eliza, because she was supposed to give the business over to that business partner of hers, but it hadn't fully eventuated. Eliza was still very much involved in her company.
Sitting down on the settee, Octavia sighed. It was nice to be back in London. She loved the hustle and bustle of the city, the parties, the balls, the afternoon calling. At this point, she hadn’t decided what man she would take a liking to this year, but it so happened that there was one man she veered her interest towards. Unfortunately, they had disappointed in the past, and she was starting to fear that men disappointed as a general rule. Surely there had to be some that were good. Men got in their own way too much.
The garden was starting to fade outside the window. No one was here to admire it throughout summer, which was a shame. It should be replanted in autumn with spring plants. Her father wasn’t much for gardening, so it had languished in the state designed by whoever had put it in. As for herself, she had better things to do than redesign a garden.
“Would you like some tea?” Mrs. Monty asked, having returned from directing the footmen carrying her trunk.
“Yes, some tea would be nice.” A bit of rest after the journey would revive her. The clock on the mantle showed it was three in the afternoon. Maybe instead of waiting until evening, she would go catch Eliza at that warehouse of hers.
When it came time to leave, she chose to hire a carriage rather than use her horses that were recovering from their journey. They deserved their rest, so she had one of the footmen procure a ride for her. It was a short journey, so the discomfort wasn’t unbearable.
A drab, black cab stood waiting as she emerged from the house, and she smiled quickly to the driver as she got in. The footman gave instructions on where to deliver her, and they set off. Although it didn’t please her to feel this way, she did feel more conscious of her safety as she crossed the Thames to Lambeth. Even as she understood why Eliza had set up her business here, she didn’t quite understand why she insisted on staying.
The streets were a jumble of activity and it took some time to get through, but they finally reached Eliza’s warehouse and Octavia said goodbye to the hack. A man met her as she walked in, and no doubt he wondered if she was lost.
“Is Mrs. Hennington here?” Octavia asked. “Miss Hennington calling.”
The man looked shocked for a moment, as if he didn’t know what to do. “She’s in her office, I believe.” Then there was an awkward moment when both were in each other’s way, and neither could easily resolve it.
“And where would that be?”
“Sorry, upstairs.” He went to point, but changed his mind. “Follow me.”
Pallets of materials sat in rows. Booklets mostly. There were also chalkboards and books. The warehouse itself was a bit dusty and Octavia sneezed. The upstairs had some kind of printing contraption next to a row of large windows. The office was enclosed in the corner of the space, and she saw Eliza and another woman inside, leaning over the desk.
Eliza looked up and saw her, and for a moment, Octavia wondered if that was a frown on her face before it fleeted. Eliza came to the door. “Miss Hennington. This is a
