“As I was personally invited to meet him, I wouldn’t dream of being rude and abstaining.”
Her eyes were like jewels when she looked up at him, the cold wind keeping her cheeks rosy. She smiled. All he wanted was to kiss her right then, but he couldn’t. Without the brace, it would be a different story. So instead, he stepped closer and kissed her on the forehead. It had a much more muted satisfaction, but it was an intimacy. “Thank you,” he said as he stepped away from her.
She looked embarrassed and surprised. Perhaps he had embarrassed her—stepped out of bounds, but he didn’t regret it. The taste of her skin lingered on his lips and her scent so close.
“For the kindness you’ve shown me, I will forever be grateful. I will never be your enemy, and if you should need something from me to repay you, you have but to ask.”
“I don’t need to be repaid,” she said.
They stood there and he had to get going, or he would kiss her again—still unable to reach her lips. At this point, he wasn’t sure a kiss would be well received. There hadn’t really been a point where a kiss had been encouraged from her side. The urge came from him, and it came from gratitude. And now he had kissed her. “Good day,” he finally said and nodded his head. “Now go, or you will be privy to how inelegantly I can get into a carriage these days.”
That finally got a smile from her. Perhaps kissing her had been a step too far. The urge had been there for days, however.
Chapter 28
Lord Fortescue was grateful to her, which was understandable—and so he should be for everything she’d done for him. He was grateful because she had seen him at his very worst and had gotten him through it.
The kiss on her forehead had lingered for hours after he’d left. Although having to deal with Cressida the rest of the day had wiped away ghostly kisses. Cressida was inordinately excited about the visit from this Bavarian prince. It would certainly increase her standing in society to be mingling with continental royalty. It was quite a coup, socially speaking.
“I do hope my gowns will arrive from Paris in time. The pink one would be perfect,” Cressida said and the carriage swayed. After hours, all had tired of conversation, but Cressida hated the quiet and would intermittently strike up conversation. “The blue one would be tolerable, but the pink would be preferred. What shall you wear, Octavia?”
“Uhm, I have a red silk gown,” Octavia said. It was her absolute finest, and there was no faulting the material, or the design of it. She hadn’t worn it for a while.
“I find silk can be an aging material,” Cressida said. “My mother prefers it much. And red is... forward. I’m not sure it’s at all appropriate.”
Cressida was attempting to undermine her again. It was never overt in Julius’ company, but it was constant, and Octavia didn’t engage with her. Cressida’s barbs didn’t hit the mark, and it annoyed the woman to no end.
“Curious that Lord Fortescue should drop in on his way,” Cressida continued. “Neither your father nor you know him particularly well.”
“He’s been to the house before, and I think we were near when he unexpectantly needed rest,” Octavia said. Cressida would definitely try to use any information against her, Octavia suspected, even as it would hurt Julius, and to some degree, herself in the process. To Cressida, the victory might be worth the damage to the name she carried. Which was why Octavia would be installing herself in Caius’ house the very moment she arrived in London.
As expected, her situation was becoming untenable. Her home had been invaded, and she was no longer welcome, or safe. Julius owed loyalty to his wife, and she was the future Lady Hennington, which was significant in terms of the family benefit. The truth was that Cressida mattered more in the family now than she did. It didn’t mean Octavia had to act like it was true, but as opposed to before, her unmarried status was now more detrimental to her life.
It was perhaps time to marry. Lord Fortescue came into her mind, but she dismissed him. He was the last person who’d stolen a kiss from her. It had been on her forehead, and it had been driven exclusively by gratitude. He’d just gone through an extremely vulnerable period, and he was grateful—an instinct she fully understood.
And then there was the promise that he’d do whatever she asked him to if the need should arrive, which was good, because if he, in any way, continued to be a threat to her family, she would use that favor and demand he stop. How he felt about Eliza now, they hadn’t really discussed. In the past, he’d said he would be there for her if Caius managed to destroy the marriage again. He was patient and he would wait, but now she had the power to make him give up on Eliza forever. It stopped him from being a threat.
These recent dealings hadn’t simply affected him; he'd been at her mercy, completely vulnerable, and it had brought out a protective quality in her. There was no point in not acknowledging it. But that time was over now, and their parting had punctuated the change. He had left and had gotten to the point where he didn’t need their assistance anymore.
After resting her eyes for a moment, they reached the inn where they would dine before continuing, and it was a mercy to stretch her legs and back—and to be away from her companions for a few moments. They dined and Cressida chatted about new dishes she felt the Denham cooks should
