Chapter 2

Chapter 2

“You look like a man besotted, Nathaniel,” came the amused voice of Lord Marcus Dashwood, the Baron of Stone, from the opposite seat of the carriage as they left the bustling streets of London. Nathaniel Hartley leaned back against the plush seat, and his contended grin widened. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you quite so ... joyful,” Marcus continued.

Nathaniel chuckled as he faced his longtime friend. “Can you blame me, Marcus? In just a few days, I shall be married to the most beautiful woman in all of England.”

Marcus raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eye. “My, my.” He let out with a laugh. “You truly are far gone, are you not? The most beautiful woman in all of England, you say?”

Despite his friend’s teasing, Nathaniel was unperturbed, and he merely let out a laugh. “You will understand when you meet her,” he ascertained. “Lady Octavia is … well, she is unlike anyone I have ever known.”

Marcus laughed softly. “Is it like the great love of Paris and Helen that we read about?” he teased, and Nathaniel shook his head with a laugh.

“This is real life, my friend,” he insisted. “And I do believe that while there will not be songs written about us … I could not dream of a better love.”

The carriage jostled as it hit a rut in the road, momentarily jolting Nathaniel from his reverie. He glanced out the window at the passing countryside, and a smile appeared on his face. Every bump, every mile brought him closer to his bride-to-be. Soon, he’d be a married man.

“You know,” Marcus spoke suddenly, interrupting his thoughts, “I can hardly believe you will be married soon.”

“Nor can I,” Nathaniel admitted with a grin. “But here we are.”

Marcus laughed softly. “I can vividly remember the night you met. The Carmichaels’ ball, was it not?”

Nathaniel nodded in agreement. “Indeed. And the moment I saw her, I knew she was something quite special.”

Marcus flashed him a teasing grin. “I could tell.” He laughed. “You were barely able to string two words together when you asked her to dance.”

Nathaniel chuckled at this, and his cheeks grew hot at once. “Well, of course,” he retorted. “She is breathtaking. You cannot possibly blame me. And now … now we are about to embark on the greatest adventure of all: a life together. One that is … fulfilling for us both.”

Though he spoke rather confidently, it was evident that Marcus had noticed the second of hesitation in his voice.

“Nathaniel,” he spoke now, his voice uncharacteristically serious. “Forgive me if I seem … less than supportive, but I must ask. What exactly do you have in common?”

Nathaniel shifted uncomfortably at this. “Well, we both … enjoy … social gatherings. And she does have quite the keen eye for fashion and decor, which will be invaluable to managing Leyton Place, and …” he trailed off suddenly, struck by how utterly shallow it all sounded. “We are still getting to know each other,” he explained quickly. “There is plenty of time for shared interests to develop.”

Marcus merely lifted a brow, and Nathaniel felt a desperate need to fill the silence.

“It is a good match, Marcus,” he insisted. “Octavia comes from a respectable family, and she is beautiful and charming … everything a man could want in a wife. And I am fond of her; truly, I am. The rest … will come with time. I am certain of it.”

Despite the certainty of his words, a thin frown settled between Nathaniel’s brows as they continued the journey. He tried with all his might to imagine being married to Octavia; he had to admit that he could not quite imagine her in any domestic capacity.

Still–they were to be married soon. He had little doubt that it could get better than this.

Marcus merely nodded and glanced out the window. As the carriage rolled towards Hampshire, Nathaniel found his mind drifting back to that fateful night in London over a year ago.

He could still picture Octavia with perfect clarity – her golden hair gleaming in the candlelight, her blue eyes sparkling with wit and charm as she laughed at some clever remark.

“I do wish Grandmother and Daisy could have made the journey,” Nathaniel mused, a slight frown creasing his brow. “It hardly seems right, getting married without them there.”

Marcus reached out, patting his friend’s knee sympathetically. “I know, old chap. But your grandmother’s health must come first. And Daisy couldn’t very well leave her alone, could she?”

Nathaniel nodded in agreement. Of course, Marcus was right. His grandmother’s recent bout of illness had been a source of great concern for the family. Though she had insisted she was well enough to travel, Nathaniel had put his foot down. The journey from Derbyshire to Hampshire was simply too taxing for a woman of her advanced years.

“At least they will be there to welcome us home,” Nathaniel said, brightening at the thought. “I cannot wait to show Octavia Leyton Place. I think she will love it as much as I do.”

“I hope she will,” Marcus agreed. “We have had some good times there.”

Nathaniel nodded with a laugh. “We have indeed,” he agreed. “And I do hope there will be many children to carry on our mischief … sons and daughters!”

Marcus merely laughed as Nathaniel delved even deeper into a song and dance about what he expected of married life.

The carriage pulled up to Windermere Manor just as the sun was beginning to set. As Nathaniel alighted, smoothing down his travel-worn coat, he was greeted by the warm smiles of the Windermere family – all save one notable absence.

“Nathaniel, my dear boy!” Lord Theodore boomed, clasping him in a hearty embrace. “Welcome, welcome! We are so pleased you have arrived safely.”

“Thank you, sir,” Nathaniel replied, returning the older man’s embrace with genuine affection. Over the past year, he had come to regard the Windermeres as a second family. “I cannot express how grateful I am for your hospitality in hosting the wedding.”

Lady Eleanor stepped forward, her kind eyes crinkling at the corners as she smiled. “Nonsense, dear. We wouldn’t have it any other way. Now, come inside. You must be exhausted from your journey.”

“Please, do meet my good friend, Lord Stone,” Nathaniel said as they entered, taking note of the flurry of activity around them. “And I do hope we have not caused too much trouble with all these preparations,” he continued, a note of concern evident in his voice.

“Not at all!” Eleanor assured him. “We are delighted to have something to celebrate. It has brought such life to the house.”

Before Nathaniel could think to respond, a blur of movement caught his eye. Suddenly, a whirlwind of green muslin and chestnut curls was before him, eyes bright with excitement.

“Nathaniel!” Evelyn cried, appearing as though she was barely restraining herself from throwing her arms around him in a most unladylike fashion. “Oh, I am so glad you are here! How was your journey? Is your grandmother feeling any better? And Daisy – does she send her love?”

Nathaniel couldn’t help smiling at the youngest Windermere’s enthusiasm. Evelyn was growing up–and he loathed to think that soon her excitement and vigour for life would leave her, and she would become one of the proper ladies of the ton. He took his time now to study the girl who would be his sister-in-law.

She had grown even more beautiful than the last time he had seen her, but he suppressed the thought quickly. Meditating on another woman’s beauty was improper–especially one related to his betrothed.

“She is quite a beauty,” he heard Marcus whisper, and a strange, unpleasant feeling that he could not quite place coursed through him at this comment. He shot Marcus a dissatisfied look before turning his attention to Evelyn.

“One question at a time, Evie,” he teased, reaching out to give her hand an affectionate squeeze. “The journey was pleasant, despite the length thereof–thanks in no small part to my dear friend, Marcus.”

He gestured to Marcus, who bowed politely. Evelyn, however, kept her gaze on him–her eyes wide and eagerly awaiting more news.

“Grandmother is on the mend, though still not quite up to such a long journey, hence her missing the wedding. And yes, Daisy sends her love–she is quite looking forward to meeting all of you when we return to Derbyshire.”

Evelyn’s eyes lit up at this. “Oh, I would love that,” she exclaimed. “I must admit, I quite feel like we already know each other from all you have told me.”

Nathaniel flashed her a gentle smile. “I am sure the two of you will be great friends,” he assured her, his eyes flitting around as they made their way to the drawing room.

“I hope Octavia is well,” he said, turning his head from one to the other in the room. Though he tried to keep the note of disappointment from his voice, he couldn’t quite do that.

Evelyn looked down in an attempt to avoid his eyes, and a frown settled between Nathaniel’s brows.

“Oh, Octavia … she had some errands to attend to in the village,” Eleanor explained with a carefully neutral tone. “But of course, she will be back for dinner–and I am certain she will be thrilled to see you.”

He could not do anything but nod, though Nathaniel could not deny that he had to force aside a small tendril of unease. Of course, he silently reasoned with himself, Octavia would have obligations to see to, with the wedding so near. It was unreasonable to expect her to sit idly waiting for his arrival.

Rather than focus on his dissatisfaction with his bride’s absence, Nathaniel turned his attention to his future sister-in-law, who was looking at him with wide-eyed wonder.

“Are you looking forward to being married?” Evelyn asked unblushingly, and Nathaniel nodded, though he did feel his own cheeks grow hot at the question.

“I believe I am, yes,” he muttered, and she sighed deeply.

“And are you certain Daisy will not mind sharing you? I would hate to think of her feeling left out once Octavia comes to live with you.”

Nathaniel’s expression softened at her concern, and he looked at her with a bit more attention, noticing for the first time the extraordinary hazel colour of her eyes.

“Daisy is overjoyed at the prospect of having sisters,” he assured her, and Evelyn’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“Sisters?”

“Of course,” Nathaniel insisted with a soft laugh. “After all, you will be her sister too–and she is quite determined that you should come to visit as soon as possible. According to her, it is high time someone stood with her against my insufferable brotherly teasing.”

A surge of affection coursed through him when Evelyn’s face lit up at this. “Oh, that’ll be lovely,” she exclaimed, leaning forward. A lock of hair fell across her cheek, and sweet lavender rose from her.

Just then, the grandfather clock in the hall chimed six, and the opening of the front door caught everyone’s attention. A moment later, Octavia swept into the room, a vision in pale blue silk.

“Nathaniel!” she exclaimed, her eyes widening in apparent surprise. “I had no idea you’d arrived already.”

Nathaniel rose to his feet, and he flashed her a smile. She was beautiful indeed, he told himself. He was lucky to have a bride like her … and if she did not look overwhelmingly happy to see him, well, that was to be expected. It was a marriage–not a fairy tale. “My dear,” he murmured, taking her hand and gently kissing her knuckles. “You look radiant as ever.”

A becoming blush coloured Octavia’s cheeks at his words. “You flatter me, sir,” she replied, though her pleased smile belied her modest words. “I trust your journey was pleasant?”

“It was,” Nathaniel nodded with a smile. “Though it was made all the sweeter by knowing I would see you at its end.”

Nathaniel thought he saw Evelyn shift uncomfortably from the corner of his eye, but his attention was quickly drawn back to Octavia as she started speaking quickly.

“I do hope you will forgive the state of chaos you’ve found us in,” she said sweetly, gesturing vaguely at the flower-strewn surfaces around them. “There seems to be an endless list of details to attend to.”

“Not at all,” Nathaniel assured her. “I am only sorry I could not be here sooner to assist with the preparations. You must be exhausted from all the planning.”

Something flickered in Octavia’s eyes–a feeling he could not quite place–but it was gone before Nathaniel could be certain it had been there. “Oh, it has been no trouble at all,” she said lightly. “Mother and Evelyn have been absolute treasures, taking care of most of the arrangements.”

At this, Nathaniel glanced at Evelyn once more. She carefully avoided his eyes still, and a frown settled between his brows. How was it that she had spent more time preparing for the wedding than the bride-to-be? And this by Octavia’s own admission?

Still, despite his reluctant concern, Nathaniel found himself constantly drawn to Octavia, marvelling at her beauty and charm. As they moved to the dinner table, however, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was ... off. She seemed distracted, her smiles not quite reaching her eyes as they usually did.

As the meal drew to a close, Octavia rose from her seat. “If you will all excuse me,” she said, keeping her voice light, “I have a bit of a headache coming on. I think I shall retire early this evening.”

Nathaniel stood as well, concern etching his features. “Is there anything I can do?”

Octavia shook her head, offering him a small smile. “No, no, I’m sure it’s nothing a good night’s rest won’t cure. Please, don’t let me spoil your evening.”

Before Nathaniel could protest further, Octavia had swept from the room, leaving a palpable tension in her wake. He sank back into his chair, a frown creasing his brow as he stared at the door through which she had disappeared.

“I … I am sure it is the stress of the wedding preparations,” Eleanor said quickly, though her voice sounded almost strangled. She reached out to pat Nathaniel’s hand comfortingly. “Octavia can be quite … delicate,” she explained further.

Nathaniel merely nodded and forced a smile. “Of course,” he agreed, though the knot of unease in his stomach refused to dissipate. “These things can be quite … overwhelming.”

Still, even as he left for his hired house, Nathaniel could not shake the feeling that something was wrong. He was certain that something was troubling Octavia–though every time he had raised this concern with the family, they were quick to dismiss it.

“Is it just me, or does Octavia not seem like a happy, blushing bride?” He turned his queries to his friend, who sat easily on a chaise in the parlour. A sliver of doubt crept into his mind, and he tried to shove it down.

Still, the doubt would not let up. He couldn’t help feeling as though this was not what he truly believed love was meant to be. Still, he told himself, it was what it was–and as far as love went, he was rather lucky to have someone like Octavia, wasn’t he?

Unaware of his tumultuous thoughts, Marcus merely shook his head with a laugh. “You are imagining things, old chap,” he insisted. “Pre-wedding nerves, nothing more. I am certain by tomorrow, your dear Octavia will be her charming self.”

“I hope you are right,” he murmured in response, though he was speaking more to himself than his companion. Perhaps, he thought as he withdrew to his bedchamber, Octavia was overwhelmed by the magnitude of the changes ahead.

After all, she would be leaving behind everything she knew to start a new life with him in Derbyshire. It was only natural for her to feel some trepidation.

He would speak to her privately the next day, he decided firmly. He would reassure her of his love, his commitment to her happiness. Whatever doubts or fears she might be harbouring, they would face them together.

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