Caring was a quality he’d started to notice of late—particularly how rare it was. Society was filled with politeness and etiquette, but true caring was more rare than he’d realized. Mostly, he hadn’t cared, having been perhaps too young to realize how important that quality was.
But his energy really was flagging and he bid the company goodnight. His room was dark, but the fire kept it warm and he left it dark, luxuriating in the feeling of taking the brace off. He was getting better at not using his back when he undressed. Obviously, he could call for help, but after all the help he’d received of late, it was nice to manage himself.
With a groan of relief, he lay himself down on the bed and closed his eyes. Perhaps he was pushing himself a little too hard. The truth was that he wanted to impress Octavia. It may not have been a truth he wanted to own, but he was too honest with himself to deny it. Too much of his attention and thoughts revolved around her at the moment. That could be because between her and her father, she was the prettier one to look at. Was it simply familiarity that drew his interest? Because any chance to argue with her and he was happy to take it.
It could also be that she slipped from his mind when he returned to London. Or even that he was simply grateful to her for caring for him. He didn’t know. What was true was that she was no longer his enemy in his mind. Thorny and pushy, yes, she would always be. She may even insult him to his face exactly as she had before, but he would never see her as an adversary again.
Sleep claimed him.
*
It was shortly after dawn that he woke. It was going to be a long day of travel, so he wanted to get as much of it done while he still had energy. Otherwise, he would spend it here and then feel unwell as he traveled. No, he needed to leave at the earliest opportunity. None of the family would rise and he didn’t want to wait. They would understand under the circumstances.
The maid came to tend the fire. “Could you tell Mr. Tennyson that I’m preparing to leave?” he asked as the young girl finished her task. She nodded and curtseyed before quietly leaving the room. “And then they can have their games room back,” he said to the empty room.
Most of his morning routine was finished by the time Mr. Tennyson attended him. Finn was half-dressed and Mr. Tennyson helped him put the brace on. “Your carriage is being prepared,” the man said. “Do you wish to breakfast before you leave?”
“No, I’ll spend my energy on the travel as much as possible,” he said. “Could you pass my regards and gratitude onto his lordship, and both Julius and Octavia? I’m not intending to be rude by leaving so early, but I must conserve my energy as much as possible.”
“Perfectly understandable. I’ll let them know.”
“Thank you,” Finn said as the last strap of the brace was put in place. “And hopefully someday soon, I can retire this device of torture.”
“It serves you well to wear it.”
“I am aware, but I’ll tell you that after this, I will never regard a corset the same.”
“As you say, my lord,” Tennyson said. “Shall I prepare a hamper for you?”
“That would be much appreciated. And thank you for your consideration and care.” Yet another person to be grateful to. “It’s been very kind of you all to put me up. I have never had to be so dependent on others.” And rarely had he been so free with his thoughts either.
“A pleasure. If you’re ready, I’ll have your trunk prepared and carried out to the carriage. It will take but a few moments.”
“Thank you,” Finn said again and got out of the man’s way. The house was utterly quiet, the only noise being the standing clock in the salon. It really was a lovely house, and this had been where Octavia had grown up with her brothers. It wouldn’t have been the softest environment, and she was a product of that.
Finn opened the main door and stepped outside. It was cold, but it was a clear day, which would be good for travel. Even in the time he’d been here, he’d grown so much stronger, recalling having to lie down for most of the journey here. If it now became too cumbersome, he would do the same, but he suspected his strength would last for most of it. A good chunk of it, anyway.
The carriage was driven around and the horses looked strong and restless. They knew they were heading out to traverse the land, encounter new smells and sounds. He wondered if they disliked London. He imagined they would.
It pulled up and footmen came out of the house with his trunk, and then Octavia, hastily dressed with her hair down. He hadn’t seen her so informal before.
“You’re leaving,” she said, even as he’d told her yesterday.
“Thought I wouldn’t waste energy waiting to go. Again, thank you for taking care of me.” There were lines on her face from sleeping, and her cheeks were red from being warmly snuggled in bed. “You didn’t have to come see me off.” But he was inordinately touched that she had.
“Heal well,” she said, clearly feeling
