Chapter 27

CHAPTER 27

“ O ctavia? Did I forget something?” Uncle Jack looked around in confusion, halting at the bottom of the stairs with his hand on the rail.

Taking a deep breath, Octavia composed herself and began to remove her gloves, pulling on the tips of her fingers until the fabric relented.

“You did not; I am afraid that there wasn’t any time to send a note as I only made the decision this morning.” She tried to smile reassuringly at him but found her face betraying her.

Everything that had happened still weighed heavily on her heart, despite her decision to move on with her life.

Uncle Jack frowned and looked over her shoulder. “Have you come alone? Where is the Duke?”

Straight to the point.

Her heart felt grieved that her uncle would question her visit without showing any signs of wanting her presence.

“Simon has gone back home without me. There has been news of his brother, and he needs to be there in case anyone sends word.” She finished removing her gloves and placed them on the entrance table along with her traveling bonnet and cloak.

“Why have you not gone with him?” Her uncle removed his hand from the banister and frowned, persisting on the topic.

“May a lady not visit her family alone, even after she is married? I would have thought that you’d welcome some company in this quiet house,” she tried again but knew that her uncle would not let the subject go when his frown deepened.

“A lady may visit her family alone, but it is not proper given the circumstances. You haven’t been married long enough to justify an agreeable separation with your husband for any length of time. Are you and the Duke having marital difficulties?” Uncle Jack ran his tongue over his bottom lip before pursing his lips in disapproval.

The marriage is the difficulty.

She bit back the words on the edge of her tongue and continued toward the stairs.

“You may rest assured, Uncle, that the marriage is just as intact as it was from the start. The Duke and I will be continuing the ruse in the eyes of the ton.”

“What do you mean by ruse? You should return to your home at once and settle whatever the misunderstanding is between you and your husband.” Uncle Jack shook his head and stood between Octavia and the stairs.

Octavia finally snapped and brought her hand up to her forehead.

“Can you not see that there is no marriage to salvage? Not in the sense that you mean. The Duke married me out of obligation, just as you and his grandmother asked. Will I not be allowed even a moment’s respite from that situation?”

“The situation that you refer to is your marriage! The more time that you and the Duke spend apart, the more the ton will gossip!” He raised his voice a little, grumbling under his breath about her insolence.

“The ton , the ton , the ton ! Do not worry Uncle, I know far more about the ton , gossip, and even duty than you give me credit for. In fact, it is all that I have learned about even in the short time that I have been married.” She thrust her arm out dramatically and gestured to the room at large.

“Then you should understand why it is of the utmost importance that you return to your husband at once!” He shook his head angrily and came forward as if he were about to turn her around.

Stepping back quickly, Octavia felt her anger growing again. “It is you who does not understand the situation, Uncle, not I. It was you that forced me to marry a man that will never love me! I have been forced to tie myself down when all I ever wanted was to be free!”

Uncle Jack paused and lowered his hands, backing off a bit as Octavia yelled at him. “You speak of love as if you were a child. These things take time…”

“Time! Just like you allowed Isolde time to come to terms with her marriage before you forced the matter? I could tell that she never wanted to marry the Duke’s younger brother, yet you pushed the matter until she fled! Now I’m not even sure if any of us will ever hear from her ever again!” The words tumbled from her lips before she could stop them.

All the blood seemed to drain from his face as Uncle Jack took another step back and ran his hand over the bottom half of his face. “I only ever wanted what was right for this family.”

“And in doing so, you placed propriety and honor above your own daughter’s feelings and even mine. My father would never have forced me to marry Simon under these circumstances.” She shook her head angrily and wished the fight could end.

It was bad enough that she’d had to come to terms with Simon’s feelings for her, but she wasn’t in the mood for a fight with her uncle.

“And do you think your father would be proud of how you are acting now? This childish behavior of yours makes me wonder if I shouldn’t have been stricter with you. Your na?ve view of the world and how these things work is astonishing!”

“Perhaps I should have died instead of my parents!”

Lifting the hem of her skirt, Octavia rushed up the stairs and passed her uncle, wishing she could just disappear.

Her chambers had never seemed so far away as she raced down the corridor. All she had wanted was to travel the world and lead a simple life unbound by anyone or anything. Yet now, she felt like a prisoner in her own mind.

Throwing open the doors to her chambers, she flung herself on the bed and sobbed, feeling the weight of the world pushing her down.

Simon shot up in bed, his head aching. Reaching over, he felt the emptiness beside him and sighed.

It’s for the best.

He reminded himself why he had pushed Octavia away. It was better for both of them if they only saw each other once a year. He wasn’t able to keep his hands off of her, and she in turn seemed to have grown fonder of him.

The loving look in her eyes when she’d spent the night in his bed haunted him more than the pain in her eyes when they’d fought.

…I was willing to give you everything…

Her words came flooding back to him as he rolled back over and swung his legs from the bed. He’d never asked her to do that for him. He refused to feel guilty when she’d made that decision on her own. He’d been honest with her; it wasn’t as if he’d ever misled her.

Placing his face in his hands, he shook his head and sighed, wishing he could turn back time. He never would have allowed his grandmother to talk him into the marriage in the first place.

“Your Grace, breakfast is ready.” The muffled sound of the butler’s voice drew his attention to the door as the sound of knocking made his head ache.

Blinking back the pain, he winced and looked at the sliver of light that was visible through the drapes in his chambers. “I’ll be right there,” he called back when he realized that it was the next day.

How did I lose track of time?

He quickly spotted the empty bottle of whisky beside his bed and groaned.

That is how.

For all the grief he had given his friend for drinking to excess, he’d gone and drowned his sorrows.

Pushing himself up from the bed, he pulled his shirt over his head and dressed for breakfast before heading out the door and down the stairs.

The house seemed emptier than usual. None of the furniture had been moved, and all of the maids and footmen were still milling about, yet something was missing.

“Good morning, Your Grace.” Mrs. Farley appeared in the doorway to the dining room, drawing Simon away from the unwanted thoughts.

Clearing his throat, he tried to hide the fact that he had been startled. “Mrs. Farley, good morning. I hope that everything is well with the house?”

“Oh yes, the staff behaved quite exemplary in our absence, Your Grace. The house is just as spotless as we left it.” She smiled in satisfaction and clasped her hands proudly in front of her apron.

Simon was about to push past her when he noted her hesitation. “Was there something else that you wished to discuss, Mrs. Farley?”

The older woman seemed sheepish as she too cleared her throat. “There was, Your Grace. I did not wish to hassle you this early in the morning, but I must ask when the Duchess will be returning?”

The question caught him off guard as he fought against the pounding ache in his head. “I am not entirely sure; we did not discuss it. Is there something that needs her attention?”

“Uh, well, there are a few matters. The Dowager Duchess is scheduled to arrive tomorrow. I understand that a number of wallpaper samples are being delivered this afternoon.”

“Ah, yes, I do recall that the Duchess mentioned something of the sort.” He frowned and pinched the bridge of his nose between his finger and thumb. “I will send a note to my grandmother explaining that the Duchess has chosen to stay with her family for a while.

Mrs. Farley nodded and pursed her lips. “Very well, Your Grace. There is also the matter of the soiree that Her Grace was planning.”

“What soiree?” Simon racked his mind but came up empty-handed.

“Well, it was less of a soiree and more of a dance for the servants. Her Grace said that she would address the matter with you once you had returned from London.”

Of course, she would have planned something like that.

Simon heaved a sigh and wished he’d stayed in bed. How was he to move on with his life when his wife had gained the special attention of his staff?

“That will have to be put aside for now; instruct the servants to carry on with their duties as they had before the Duchess came along. All changes that have been made to the household should revert to normal until the Duchess returns.”

The sadness in the older woman’s eyes was more than noticeable as she struggled to hide a sigh. “As you wish, Your Grace.”

Walking past her, Simon paused despite his better judgment. “I do not think that you have to cancel the plans altogether, Mrs. Farley. I’m sure that Her Grace will want to offer the servants some form of respite when she does return.”

His words brought a spark back to the woman’s face that didn’t ignite his own.

What am I doing?

He would never have considered allowing a dance for the servants when they already had their days off along with considerable wages. Octavia had changed him in such a way that he’d even consider her plans in his absence.

“Thank you, Your Grace.” Mrs. Farley cheered up considerably and hurried away before he could change his mind.

Muttering to himself under his breath, Simon made his way into the empty dining room and eyed the plate that had been set beside his at the table. Anger flared up in the pit of his stomach when he realized that the staff had accommodated his wife to such a degree that nothing seemed to function properly without her.

It wasn’t their fault; they were all doing what was expected of them.

“Shall I remove the extra plate in Her Grace’s absence, Your Grace?” A footman entered the dining room and followed Simon’s gaze.

“Yes, there is no need to set an extra place until Her Grace returns,” he grunted his response at the servant and waved his hand in the air as if he could make the memory of his wife disappear.

The man hurried forward and quickly gathered the plate along with the glass, knife, and fork before hurrying from the room.

The gesture only served to make Simon feel worse as he sat in his chair and instantly spotted the fresh jar of preserves. Everything in his house had grown around Octavia. The staff had done her bidding and accommodated her as far as possible.

Not only the staff.

Simon recalled the times she’d followed him out of the dining room and started an argument. She had such a fiery personality that he’d almost lost his temper with her on more than one occasion. The smile that tugged at his lips caught him off guard as it instantly turned to a scowl.

Her actions had infuriated him; why were the memories suddenly making him smile? He recalled her stint in the tree and even the time she had attempted to replant his garden. The memory caused him to look out the window and take note of the myriads of colors that now brighten the garden.

Losing his temper out of frustration, he picked up the jar of preserves and threw it across the room, instantly regretting his decision when the glass shattered against the wall.

“Your Grace?” Mrs. Farley came rushing back into the room and frowned when she spotted the broken jar at her feet beside the doorway.

“I am sorry, Mrs. Farley; I don’t seem to be myself this morning. Have one of the maids clean up the mess and take the food back to the kitchen; I am not hungry.” The legs of his chair scraped across the floor as he pushed it back and stood.

“Certainly, Your Grace.” Mrs. Farley bent down and began to pick up the pieces of the broken jar as Simon walked past.

“I’m not sure if I will be back in time for supper. Have the cook prepare something small that will keep for tomorrow.” He clenched his jaw in anger and averted his gaze from the broken shards.

Mrs. Farley scrambled to her feet and curtsied politely as he passed.

“I do not know when I shall return.” He hurried from the room and practically sprinted down the hall toward the front doors. He needed to put as much space between himself and the house as possible.

Octavia may have decided to stay behind in London, yet she had left behind such a distinct and palpable presence in his life that it was hard to escape. Even the air in the house somehow felt different with the lack of her presence.

Heading toward the stables, he decided to seek out parts of his estate where his wife had never ventured. Yet no matter how hard he tried, her presence and even the smell of her perfume seemed to chase him. The very essence of his home and lands whispered her name on the wind.

Octavia.