This afternoon, he would go. They would either receive him, or they wouldn’t. Alternatively, he could write a letter, but he wasn’t a natural letter writer. His writing was curt and business-like. Although he didn’t think Octavia would be offended, it simply wasn’t as much fun as talking to her—teasing her.
In fact, he was having trouble focusing on the letters he had received from his agents. At first glance, there was nothing devastating, hence they struggled to keep his attention. Something about this business with Octavia felt very important.
Time seemed to pass very slowly until it was time to go to see her. A level of excitement warmed his blood. It had been a few days since he’d seen her.
Feeling restless, he decided to walk. It wasn’t far, but it would divert him for a while, and maybe he would drop in to one of the coffee houses on the way.
It was cold when he left the house, but it wasn’t raining. Winter was starting to set in. It generally meant there were fewer people on the streets. How was it that he had never truly been this bored and restless before? It felt as if there was no purpose to anything if it didn’t have to do with her.
Remedying it was fairly simple. Well, it was simple if she agreed, and that was where the crux was. They could have a life together, but she had to agree with it. Octavia could not be coerced or unduly impressed. He wouldn’t be the first who’d wished to woo her. Many had tried before him, but none had succeeded.
The vision of a life together was very attractive, where they were together and discussed things, argued about things that didn’t matter, even started a family. It felt as if it would be a life where he would be part of a pair. There were marriages like that, where the relationship between them was the center of their worlds. There were plenty of marriages that weren’t like that—marriages that had loyalty but no affection. Not to mention the ones that didn’t even have either.
There was the chance that he could have a marriage that consumed him in every way. The thought was delightful. It had been something he’d known he wanted, but he hadn’t been able to articulate it. Excitement coursed through him. Octavia knew of his affection. Now he simply had to woo her.
A quick coffee on the way, gave him a moment to pause and bolster his resolve. It was a nice day, actually, and he wished he was there with her, experiencing this day with her. All he had to do was make it happen. It was within reach.
Caius Hennington, Lord Warwick’s, house was nice. In the middle of a row, facing a calm square. He knocked and was given entrance by the roughest looking butler he’d ever seen. The man didn’t even have all his limbs. It was perhaps something they had in common, staying loyal to less than ideal butlers.
“I wish to call on Miss Hennington,” he stated to the man.
“She’s in the drawing-room,” the man said. “If you will follow me, I will announce you.”
The house was well appointed. It looked as though it had been in the family for a while. Recently purchased houses didn’t have the same feeling of constancy, as if the house and the inhabitants were trying to settle with each other.
The room he was led to was bright, white and yellow, Octavia sitting next to Eliza on the main sofa. A table with a tea service in front of them.
“Lord Fortescue,” Octavia said with surprise as he walked in. She looked lovely. Beautiful.
“Miss Hennington,” he said with a bow of his head. “Lady Warwick.”
Eliza looked lovely too, a little more round in the face, but it suited her. But his attention drew to his left where someone else was. A man. Finn looked over to see the German prince, who stood and stepped over. “I don’t think we’ve been introduced,” the man said. “Frederich von Zweibrücken.”
It said something about the man that he didn’t use his title to bludgeon people with, but he clearly didn’t recall that they’d been introduced. Finn wasn’t offended. The man must have been introduced to hundreds of people in his time here.
“Finley Fortescue,” Finn said, returning the greeting. “Pleased to see you.”
“It seems you are popular this morning,” the prince said, taking his seat again.
“Frederich was just telling her about Bavaria,” Octavia said. Frederich? They were on a first-name basis. “It sounds like a marvelous place.”
“Would you like some tea, Lord Fortescue?” Eliza asked.
“Uhm,” he started, feeling nothing but unease. “Perhaps in a moment.” There was an empty seat and he took it when the others seated themselves. Right then, he didn’t know what he felt. There was a riot of unease, and not because he was joining into a conversation that had gone on before his arrival.
It hadn’t occurred to him that he wouldn’t be the only one here.
“We have strong horses. The Rottalers,” that man said. “Warmblooded horses. I’ve never had anything else.”
“I’m not familiar with the breed,” Octavia said. Her smile was genuine and she was curious, even as she wasn’t interested in horses. Which likely meant that she liked the prince.
“Do you breed horses, Lord Fortescue?” Octavia asked, trying to draw him into the conversation. It was too polite for their normal banter, but that type of banter wasn’t normal for them anymore.
“Not generally, no,” he said.
