“Only if you wish to marry.”
The statement made him laugh, but she wasn’t entirely sure why. And Julius would probably not be happy with her for denigrating the whole city. “Unfortunately, things are not better on the continent.”
“Well, that is disappointing to hear,” she said.
“You believe no marriage is better than a bad one?” he asked.
“Of course. We get one chance to marry. People should give some consideration to who they wish to spend the rest of their lives with. I would think that would be fundamental to a happy life.”
“But you require a man who is beautiful, wealthy and gallant. Stylish and with pristine character. An impossible standard,” Quentin stated.
“Quentin, you have spent too much time considering my requirements in men.” The statement embarrassed him and she hadn’t intended on it. “I know you have my best interests at heart, but believe me, my standards would lower considerably if it was the right man.”
“Really, which of your standards would you lower?” the prince said.
“Can I say how happy I am that this is our topic of conversation,” she mentioned. “And yes, likely all of them.”
“Even pristine character?” he asked, and she noted that he had actually remembered each of the things Quentin had accused her of caring about.
“If the intentions were right.” After all, Caius could be accused of having been less than honorable, leaving his wife based on a wrongful accusation, but she knew the hurt that had driven him to react so.
“A criminal?” the prince asked.
“Are you taking this as a challenge on how base a man I would consider?”
“Some crimes are justified, are they not?”
“In very rare circumstances. Intelligent men find ways around resorting to criminality.”
“Very true,” he said. Surprisingly, he seemed to enjoy this discussion. Julius would likely be mortified. “You are not saying very flattering things about your countrymen if you cannot find one to marry with such low standards.”
“No, you are extrapolating wildly from this conversation.”
“But even with your supposed low standards, you cannot find a husband.”
“And for the record, the crux of the conversation was finding the right husband, not simply a husband.”
“Well, it would please us all if dear Octavia could manage,” Cressida said, attempting her most regal stance. “And as much as I dread stealing you away from listening to all of Miss Hennington’s woes, supper is about to be served. Would you do me the honor of taking me in?”
“Of course,” he said, not that Cressida had given him a choice. The blatant dismissal burned, but Octavia closed her eyes and reasserted that nothing Cressida did bothered her—even if inescapably insulting. On the other hand, no doubt to Cressida’s chagrin, Octavia’s seat was opposite the prince.
Lydia was already seated next to him and talking about how fine the horses her family bred. They regularly won awards, apparently. The prince seemed to listen intently. “And do you like horses, Miss Hennington?”
“No, beastly creatures. I can’t abide them.” It wasn’t actually true. While she had no real affinity for horses, she didn’t think them beastly. But she certainly wouldn’t breed them for sport.
“Do you wish your carriage was drawn by swans, do you?” Lydia said with a light, tinkling laugh. It sounded quite angelic, along with her blond hair and pretty face.
“Or are you a proponent of steam?” the prince asked.
“Steam is the gateway to the future,” Octavia replied. Lord Fortescue certainly thought so. It might have been him who’d said so. She couldn’t recall.
“And we will not lose something by iron crisscrossing the land?” he asked. Obviously, there was a contingent of the population who objected to the impact on the aesthetics of the countryside with all the rail being deployed. And that all sorts of people would be traveling through their districts.
“If it will replace long carriage rides, it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make,” Octavia countered.
“But as an unmarried woman, you don’t actually have any land,” Lydia said. Was that outright hatred Octavia saw in her eyes?
“I do, actually,” Octavia said. It was a portion of land that she’d inherited from her mother, a portion that stayed with the female line of the family—a stipulation made generations back resulting from a bad marriage. It was an eminently sensible precaution, in her mind.
Her rebuttal didn’t please Lydia at all. Octavia now wondered if the Forthill sisters intensely disliked her, or whether it was simply that the prince was speaking to her? She smiled at the prince. “There are no horses on my land presently.”
The prince smiled back. A nice smile, too.
Chapter 31
NEVER IN HIS LIFE HAD Finn read the society pages, but they now had some value. His pride forbade him from rushing to the society tattle like some eager debutant, but he sought news of Olivia. That prince being in town was quite the celebrated event at the moment, and the society reporters dissected the man’s every step. And beside him seemed to be either Julius Hennington, or Octavia. Suddenly, she was a noted beauty. Obviously, she was a beauty, but there were many in society that grudgingly admitted it.
It felt so strange that they had no real relationship after they’d been so constantly together. There was nowhere he fit into her life now that he was largely healed. The rules of society now kept them completely separated, with only a few means of seeing her. Either at the events she attended, or he could call on her—which would mean seeking an audience at Caius Hennington’s house. The man may not be all that excited about him coming calling. But then he wouldn’t know if he was denied entry until he actually tried, so that is what he would do.
Calling on women wasn’t something he’d done to any significant degree. Eliza had been the last woman he’d called
