Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

“ O ctavia, will you please tell me what happened?” her godmother asked, her eyes searching Octavia’s face as she settled into the seat opposite her goddaughter’s.

“You come rushing back to the party after hours of keeping to yourself, and now, you will not even stop to tell me what has happened. I had to make our excuses to Lady Nordshire when you suddenly disappeared again,” Matilda added.

“Nothing happened, I simply wish to get home,” Octavia lied and tried to catch her breath. The last thing she wanted at present was to discuss the situation with anyone else.

“Dearest, I have known you since you were born. I can tell when something has caused you distress,” Matilda lowered her voice and gently probed.

How is it that she can always see through me?

She felt grateful toward her mother’s oldest friend despite wanting to keep the experience to herself. Her mother would have wanted her to speak to Matilda if anything was wrong. “I met the Duke while I was catching my breath on the terrace.”

Matilda bit her lips as she wrinkled her nose, a habit she possessed whenever she was anxious. “I take it that the meeting did not go as smoothly as one would hope?” She placed her hands in her lap and sighed as the carriage rattled forward, jostling them both in their seats.

“Smoothly? That would imply that there had been even the slightest bit of civility in the exchange. The man is far more brutish and insufferable than I had previously imagined. Never in all my years had I ever thought that anyone could be so pig-headed and… and…” Her words faltered as images of their almost kiss flooded her mind.

The nearness of his lips to hers. The feel of his fingers on her skin that had sent a rush of bumps over her skin. Everything about the interaction had made her feel helpless in his presence. Yet she had stood there, rooted to the spot as if he were capable of commanding her body.

“Would dashing be the word that you are looking for?” Matilda teased her gently when Octavia seemed to still be at a loss for words.

“Dashing is not quite the word that I was looking for.” She felt her cheeks filling with heat despite the anger she felt toward him. How had he gotten her into such a state?

Matilda shook her head and barely suppressed a laugh. “You hardly know the man, Octavia. Some people hide their feelings behind masks. It is safer that way. Showing others how you truly feel can pose quite a challenge when you do not wish to get hurt.”

She turned her face toward the window and looked into the darkness.

Octavia was not sure if she was mistaken, but there was something in the older woman’s eyes that made her sad. “Is there someone that you fancy?” she asked gently.

Her question seemed to catch her godmother off guard as she spluttered and blushed. “Why on earth would you ask such a silly question? I have already had a husband. I can assure you that those matters are the furthest thing from my mind. We were talking about you and the Duke. Do you not find him as handsome as the rest of the young ladies of the ton?”

Octavia examined her face for a moment before answering. There was something in Matilda’s gaze that made her curious about her reactions. “The Duke is handsome, there is no denying that, but I was hoping for more than just looks.”

“Wealth, a title? What more could there be than all of that?” Matilda tilted her head to the side in confusion. “Have you not said that romance and flattery were things that belonged in books? You have made it known for many years that you do not wish to marry for love. Have you had a sudden change of heart?”

“I have not; you know very well that I have never thought that a husband and a marriage would make me happy. There is so much more out there in the world than anything that being bound to one man forever can bring.” Octavia felt her heart clenching in longing for the dreams that would no longer be recognized.

What kind of ‘freedom’ could possibly come from having to obey a husband for the rest of your life? If he did not want her to travel, then that would be the end of her dreams.

Reaching over, Matilda reached for Octavia’s hand. “Dearest, things are not as bad as they seem. You might even end up liking the Duke—perhaps even fall in love with him. These things take time; very few couples fall in love with one another before the wedding. Promise me that you will give the match time before throwing in the towel. You are doing such a brave and noble thing for your cousin and family. You deserve happiness for your sacrifice alone.”

Her godmother’s words did little to ease her concerns as Octavia offered her a gentle smile that did not reach her eyes.

I do not think I can fall in love with him.

Her heart skipped a beat despite her reservations when images of his lips inches away from hers flitted into her mind.

No, she could not fall in love with him.

Simon’s finger drew a path down her lips, traveling over her neck before dipping between her breasts. The heat from his touch traveled over her breasts and reached her nipples, making them press against her corset.

“Octavia…” His voice was low and deep, reminding her of a rushing river during a storm.

Bolts of exhilaration shot through her body when he pulled her up straight and stared into her eyes. The feel of his fingers gently running down her arm made her lips part with a silent gasp. The differing shades of green in his eyes were almost hauntingly spellbinding to her.

“I want you, Octavia…” His words trailed off once again as he drew her closer, his lips brushing hers before his hands worked their way up her sides.

“Say my name again.” The words came from her lips without her even needing to think. There was something utterly captivating about the way that Simon said her name. She could listen to him speak for hours if only he would allow her to be his wife.

“Octavia… Octavia for goodness’s sake, you must wake up!”

Opening her eyes with reluctance, it took a moment or two to realize that she was in her room and not on the balcony at the ball.

Matilda shot her a sympathetic look with her lips pursed before moving away from the bed and allowing the maids to come in. Several young maids carried bolts of fine fabric against the far wall beside the mahogany dresses.

“What were you dreaming about, dear? You seemed quite content with whatever it was. I was beginning to think that I would not be able to rouse you before noon,” Matilda remarked distractedly, examining the bolts of fabric with a great deal of attention.

The Duke. I was dreaming of the Duke.

Octavia felt her cheeks flooding with heat as she sat up straight in bed. Her mind had obviously been playing through the previous night’s events, but there had been one key factor that had changed. She had wanted Simon to marry her. His hands gliding over her body had awoken a carnal need within her that longed to be touched. Reaching for a pillow, she placed it on her lap and buried her face, hiding from the entanglement of confusion.

What does all of this mean?

She tried to reassure herself that dreaming of Simon in such an intimate manner did not mean that she was falling in love with him. How could she be? He had been just as insufferable as ever during their meeting. He was an attractive man, and that was all it was; many women had swooned for him in the past. Her mind seemed to think that she needed to as well.

Her godmother broke into her thoughts once more, “Hurry and put on your dressing gown, dearest. We do not have much time. The dressmaker has agreed to place your dress at the front of the queue, but we must hurry and choose a fabric. These are all the colors of which she already has dresses in your size. She would only need to make a few minor alterations if we choose one of these.”

Bringing her head up groggily and tangling her fingers in her messy hair, Octavia blinked at the bolts of fabric in her room.

“Why are we doing this in my chambers instead of at the dressmaker’s shop?” Her voice was still heavy with sleep.

“I twisted your uncle’s arm and had the dressmaker send over her choices of fabric for your dress. I thought you might like a bit of privacy considering the fact that half the ton is speaking of the sudden engagement. You looked so flustered last night when Lady Nordshire approached us.” Matilda ran her hand over a pearl-colored fabric with her back to the bed.

Swinging her slender legs over the side of the bed, Octavia reached for the silk robe that hung over a chair. “That was quite considerate of you, thank you. You must tell me how you get it right with my uncle; he only ever seems to listen to you,” she remarked groggily and headed toward the other end of the room.

Matilda laughed. “Your uncle is just like any other man; you need to know how to speak to them.”

“Then you must possess a special talent. Uncle Jack is a bear with a sore foot at the best of times.” Octavia spotted a pot of tea that had been left on a tray beside the window and headed directly toward it.

“He is not that bad; he cares deeply about rules and propriety, to be sure, but he possesses a heart of gold.” Her godmother’s voice seemed softer whenever she spoke of Octavia’s paternal uncle. “You know he did not even hesitate to take you in the second your parents passed in that tragic accident. I take my hat off to any man who devoted his life to raising his daughter as well as his niece, not to mention the fact that he did it all with love.”

Octavia felt a little sheepish about grumbling when her uncle had been nothing but kind to her for all of her life. There were times when he could be a stickler for the rules, yet he had been kind to her for as far back as she could recall. Isolde had grown up without a mother when Uncle Jack’s wife passed while giving birth.

Isolde.

Her heart clenched when Octavia realized that Isolde still had not sent word about her whereabouts. She wondered what had happened to make her push even her closest cousin away. They had always treated each other as sisters, yet Octavia was beginning to wonder if perhaps Isolde had not felt that way.

“I think that pearl would suit you best.” Matilda came forward carrying a swatch of pearl lace and held it up to Octavia’s face as she sipped on her cup of tea. “What do you think, dearest?”

“Whatever you think best. I have never had an eye for fashion, and I personally do not care about the wedding. Simon will not care what I am wearing; I can assure you of that.” She swallowed her tea and placed the cup back on the table.

“Simon? Since when do you refer to the Duke by his name?” The note of surprise and teasing in her godmother’s voice did not go unnoticed.

Turning around with a cheeky grin that she hoped with hide her embarrassment, Octavia faced her godmother. “Since I am to be his wife. Was it not you in the carriage last night who asked me to give the match a fighting chance?”

Matilda held her gaze for a moment before allowing the corner of her mouth to hook into a knowing smile. Closing the distance between them, she held up another swatch of fabric to her face. “On second thought, I think that champagne might be a better choice. The rich tones will go nicely with your skin tone, and the fabric is just as vibrant as you.”

Staring into the other women’s eyes, Octavia wondered if Matilda could see that she was trying to conceal something. “Aunt Matilda, have you ever been in love?” she asked her in a quiet voice, wondering what it would feel like to harbor feelings for a man.

She was more than certain that she and Simon would never fall in love, yet she still wondered what the sensation would feel like.

Her godmother swallowed hard before pursing her lips and turning her back on Octavia to sort through the fabrics. “Of course, I have; I was married for quite a few years before my husband’s passing.”

“And what was it like? I do not mean to pry; I just want to know.” Octavia felt a strange sensation in the pit of her stomach as if hundreds of butterflies were spreading their wings.

Matilda came up straight after reaching for a swatch of fabric on the floor. “It’s strange at times. Sometimes the person can frustrate you so much that you never wish to see them ever again. Yet you never seem to be able to get enough of that person. They occupy most of your thoughts and even manage to enter your dreams.” Her eyes softened so much that color almost changed.

Lifting her hand to her abdomen, Octavia attempted to stifle the fluttering. She had never wondered what love and attraction meant, but her mind was filled with questions that almost drove her to the point of exhaustion.

“It’s just nerves dear; you will feel better once the ceremony is over. You and the Duke will settle into a routine and get to know one another soon enough. Do not worry yourself with questions of love. You will have security and stability enough with the Duke. If love develops from that, then you will be twice as lucky.”

She offered Octavia an encouraging smile and turned her attention back to the fabrics.

What if it doesn’t?

Octavia’s mind swam with questions as she folded her arms around her middle and chewed the inside of her cheek.

What if the Duke expected her to fall in love with him? They had not even spoken to each other long enough to ascertain what the other’s expectations were. She hoped and prayed that some semblance of an understanding could be reached between them.

One thing was for certain, she, Octavia Townshend, would not be falling in love with the Duke.

You are mine.

His words on the balcony made her heart flutter uncontrollably.

The woman both turned toward the door when a knock drew their attention.

“Is everyone decent?” Her uncle’s voice was partially muffled by the door.

Ensuring that her robe was securely fastened around her waist, Octavia called back. “You may enter, Uncle Jack.”

Matilda suddenly cleared her throat and fixed her hair before continuing to fidget with the bolts of fabric.

“I was hoping you would be up already.” The Earl of Winthorpe stuck his head around the door and smiled before entering the room. His black hair that had been slicked back was peppered with grey.

“Of course, she is up; she is a lady after all.” Matilda turned to him and raised an eyebrow.

Octavia noted the twinkle in her godmother’s eyes despite the seriousness on her face.

Jack narrowed his eyes at the bolts of fabric behind Matilda. “I can see that the money I gave for a dress is being put to good use. Do try and leave me with a penny when you are done,” he remarked seriously, yet Octavia couldn’t help but notice the lack of force behind his words. Her mother’s eldest friend had always been in their lives, yet it was only recently that Octavia had started noticing a change between the two.

Shaking her head, Matilda turned back to the bolts of fabric while muttering under her breath.

Her uncle shook his head and addressed Octavia, “Have you heard from your cousin at all?”

“No, I am afraid that I haven’t,” she admitted with a heavy heart.

The pain in his eyes was clearly evident when Matilda turned to him with a worried look. “I was hoping that she would have at least reached out to you. I have doubled my efforts in trying to find her. In the meantime, I must reiterate how thankful, and proud I am of you. Your cousin has left us in quite a situation. You are the shining star that will pull us out of all of this.” He lifted his head proudly despite the sadness in his eyes regarding his daughter.

Octavia swallowed hard and forced a smile.

There was no possible way she could back out now. Not when her uncle had painted her as the family’s only hope.

For Isolde’s sake , she reminded herself, I must do it for her .