Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

OCTAVIAN REALIZED THEY would be married slightly over a month by the time he and Syd returned to London. Their trip home necessitated several detours, the first being a three-day stopover in Glasgow to confirm the navy ships awarded under previous contracts were properly underway and no unauthorized changes had been made to their designs.

Glasgow was a dingy, rainy city, but one would think it was clear skies and sunshine the way Syd chirped about the city and its enlightened residents. "You will never believe what I did today, Octavian," she told him while they dined in the privacy of their guestroom later that evening in Glasgow's fanciest hotel, The Harley. It was quite a change from the simple Seafarer's Inn, for it was far grander in size, had marble floors and crystal chandeliers, and larger beds. But Syd still managed to paste herself to his side during the night, something Octavian did not mind at all.

"What did you do?" he replied between bites, eager to hear what had Syd's eyes alight and a beaming smile on her pretty lips.

"Well, first I went…"

The simple question turned into a twenty minute recitation, but he leaned back, sipping his wine and devouring a most delicious roast duck in plum sauce while he listened in good cheer. Syd was happier than he had ever seen her, chattering like a magpie between bites of her salmon and potatoes. "Can you believe it, Octavian?"

While he spent his time at the navy shipyard, Syd frequented the Glagow museums and medical school where she was permitted to observe the medical students in their studies. "Did you really observe the students dissecting cadavers?"

"Yes, and the professor let me lead the class when he learned I was involved in research projects at the Huntsford Academy forensic laboratory. He begged me to give an impromptu lecture."

Octavian chuckled. "Of course. Why am I not surprised?"

"It is not surprising at all," she insisted, taking a sip of her wine.

He motioned for the wine steward to pour him another glass, then turned to respond to her. "That's what I said, Syd."

"Thank you, Octavian. If I were a man, I would be renowned in the field of forensics by now," she insisted. "London society believes I am quite the ghoul. But everyone here accepts me as quite the scholar."

"I know that. I am glad they have realized it." He leaned over and kissed her on the hand while she was in the middle of expounding on her achievements.

"Stop giving me those steamy looks or you will make me forget what I was saying." She sighed and cast him a loving look, a sign she did not really mind his warm regard. "Afterward, the dean of the medical school gave me a private tour of their classrooms and laboratories, and asked if I had any suggestions for their improvement. Can you believe it?"

"Yes, I can. I keep telling you that you are a treasure. See, others believe it, too. Did you give him any suggestions?"

She rolled her eyes. "Have you ever known me to keep my mouth shut?"

He laughed.

"I gave him at least a dozen. He thought they were very good and promised to implement them."

"That's my girl."

"Are you truly proud of what I did?"

The question surprised him. "Syd, do you still not know me at all? I am tremendously proud of you. If I had wanted a goose-brain for a wife, I would have settled on Lady Clementine. Who, by the way, is a vicious goose-brain, so I probably would not have chosen her under any circumstances. Tell me about the museums you visited. Did you stop running around at all today?"

"I will admit to being exhausted now. But we have so little time here and there is so much to see and do. The museum director afforded me the same courtesy as the medical school dean had done." She cleared her throat. "I might have let slip that I was the sister-in-law of the Duke of Huntsford and could put in a good word with him about their museum."

Octavian arched an eyebrow as he took a sip of his ale. "Indeed, having connections has its privileges."

She winced. "I know I overstepped and took advantage, but there is so much still to see. As I just said, there is so little time in which to do it."

"I'll be traveling between London, Glasgow, and Greenock regularly. Come with me whenever you wish. Just slow down on this visit, will you? You'll have time to do whatever you find of interest over the coming months."

"You would take me with you?"

He groaned. "Yes, I have no desire to be without you."

She set down her fork and cast him a dazzling smile. "Octavian, that is a lovely thing to say."

"It's the truth, Syd. You know it is. I haven't kept my feelings to myself."

"I know. You are wonderful."

He grunted. "So are you. Who else but you would have accomplished all this in a day? You haven't once complained about being left on your own. Nor did you tear through the shops and buy trinkets you did not need, or bemoan the lack of decent modistes or the miserable Scottish weather." He glanced out the window, noting the rain pounding against the panes with a rapid pik-pok . "I like being married to you."

"Feeling is mutual, you big ox." She blushed and shifted uncomfortably in her chair because any mention of permanence in their marital relation was still upsetting to her.

He ought to have kept quiet about it, for her fear of their marriage crumbling once they reached London was deeply embedded within her and not a jest to be treated lightly. He reached for her hand. "Tell me about the rest of your day."

She placed her small hand in his. "Was this not enough for one day? I start again bright and early tomorrow. How was yours? Can you talk about any of it?"

"No, it is all top secret. A few minor issues but nothing serious."

They finished their meal and retired to bed.

Syd had truly worn herself out and was asleep before her head hit the pillow. Octavian drew her up against him because Syd slept better while pressed to his warm body. Perhaps he was the one who slept better knowing she was beside him.

He had grown used to her shapely softness and the lovely scent of her skin that reminded him of wild roses kissed by the morning dew.

Ah, well.

Who could explain why they felt so comfortable with each other and craved each other's touch? The sense of rightness was primal in him, arising from somewhere deep within his soul. It had nothing to do with reason or logic.

He read quietly in bed for a few hours, and then set aside his book and fell asleep himself. But before he did, he made certain to draw her into his arms.

Octavian was in good spirits, for Syd's expeditions over the following days pleased her to no end, and that in turn pleased him. However, he was not all that delighted when she began returning to their hotel after nightfall. She did this for two days in a row, and would have driven him mad with worry had he not arranged for a carriage and driver to remain with her all the while. Syd was adventurous, and he wanted someone armed with a weapon and knowledgeable about the city to escort her wherever she wished to go.

He was relieved when they left Glasgow, although Syd did not really give him serious cause to worry. She spent almost all her time either at the medical school or at the museum. But she often lost all sense of time and only left when they politely kicked her out.

The rest of their week was spent in travel, his assignment taking him next to Edinburgh for a brief visit, and then finally to making their way south to London. As the sun began to set, they passed by the Eildon Hills and then turned slightly north to come upon the ancient wonder of Melrose Abbey, a magnificent structure built by the Cistercian monks.

Octavian noticed a fair going on in the nearby town of Melrose. "Care to stay over and stroll through the fair tomorrow, Syd?"

At her nod, he had their driver stop at one of the local inns on the chance they might have a room available for the night. This slight change in plans would not take them out of the way since they would have had to stop within an hour's time as darkness fell.

"I see sheep!" Syd poked her head out of the carriage window for a better view of the fairgrounds.

So did he.

There were tents of all sizes flying their pennants of brilliant colors. Reds, golds, greens. The tents were mostly plain, but some were emblazoned with a clan insignia. Many bore designs of dragons, thistles, and claymores.

"Sheep! Sheep!" Syd cried out excitedly as they drew closer.

Octavian loved this vitality about her.

He laughed. "Ah, then we are compelled to stop here and explore."

If the weather held, they could spend tomorrow at leisure, browsing the stalls and enjoying the food and entertainment provided. This was no small affair, he realized while taking note of the sizeable crowd.

It was obvious that visitors had converged on this spot from all over the country.

He worried about finding a place to spend the night, but the task was accomplished with surprising ease. They found a charming inn on an elegant Melrose square across the field from the fairgrounds, and were settled into their cozy quarters just before dusk.

Syd was delighted and continually cast him breathtaking smiles as they dined in the crowded common room. She had more smiles for him when they retired to bed. "Are you going to dream of me or sheep?" he teased, taking her into his arms, as had become his habit, when she climbed in beside him.

"If I bleat in my sleep, then you'll know that you have lost out."

He laughed and kissed her. "Sweet dreams, love."

"Sweet dreams, Octavian," she purred and kissed him back.

He knew Syd was happy because she fell asleep right away, her head resting against his chest and her body curled up against his own.

He followed soon after, for there were sheep to be purchased come morning and Syd viewed it as serious business. An entire flock to be purchased, to be precise, and his first chore tomorrow morning would be to acquire them for the Armstrong clan.

Since Melrose was within a day's ride of Gretna Green, he and Syd were not all that surprised to encounter Laird Armstrong and his men wandering the fairgrounds the following afternoon.

Syd dragged Octavian along as she rushed forward to greet them. "Laird Armstrong! What a fortunate coincidence." She cast the laird an enchanting smile that did not fail to charm him. "My husband and I were just deciding how best to deliver the sheep to you, and here you are. It is most convenient. Would you be able to take delivery of them right here and now?"

The laird glanced at Octavian, obviously surprised. "Ye bought sheep for us?"

He nodded. "We promised you, did we not?"

"Och, aye. But I seriously did not think an Englishman would keep to his word."

"I always do."

Syd nodded. "He always does. He is the most honest man you will ever encounter."

Octavian grinned, not minding at all that Syd sang his praises. He was no longer surprised by her compliments because there was a traditional side to her that did love and honor him. It was the obeying part she had yet to get right, and he fully expected her to run amok at some point during the fair. There was too much going on and too many people around for something not to happen.

Perhaps he was turning into a mother hen and worrying too much.

Jamie Armstrong had accompanied his laird, another fortunate circumstance because Octavian could discuss hiring workers for the Greenock shipyard contracts now, as well. "Jamie, the manager position is yours if you want it." He then turned to the laird. "Armstrong, I have a place for nine more workers. Let me be clear, Jamie will be in charge. He will assign each man to his daily task and oversee what they are doing. Any of your men interested?"

The old lord's eyes widened and then began to sparkle with amusement. "Blessed saints, Thorne. Seems attempting to rob ye was the best thing we could have done. Ye're keeping to that promise, as well? In truth, I would not have blamed ye if ye could no' have delivered on those jobs."

"What say you? Would your men be willing? I need good workers. No idlers."

Syd, who had been standing by Octavian's side all the while, now cleared her throat. "Not your son, however."

Octavian groaned. "Syd, hush."

She tipped her chin up in defiance. "He was rude, hotheaded, and meant to cause trouble. My lord, I believe your son is best kept with you if you ever hope to mold him into a proper leader. Don't you agree?"

Octavian put an arm around her waist and drew her up against his side, the gesture instinctively protective because– true to herself– Syd had formed an ill opinion of the laird's son, was determined not to let him anywhere near those ships being built, and had now insulted the father by telling him that his son was a fool and a lout.

She viewed it as her moral duty to be honest.

At this moment, Octavian thought tact, not honesty, was the better virtue.

That they were not her ships nor was it her decision to make, did not stop her from spouting her opinion. This was Syd at her righteous best. "For pity's sake, Syd."

While the laird might have accepted the insult quietly, the laird's son had come up behind her and heard every word.

"A hotheaded lout, am I?" he shouted.

Octavian gave Syd a light squeeze in the hope of keeping her quiet while he took care of the man and calmed the situation, but she had other ideas. "I was speaking to your father, not to you. However, since you overheard, I am not taking it back until you apologize to me for your boorish behavior toward me when we first met."

"Blessed saints, Syd," Octavian muttered.

She gasped. "I–"

And then clamped her mouth shut upon finally noticing the laird's son had withdrawn a knife. "Oh."

"Does yer wife always lead ye about by the nose, Thorne? A proper beating will cure her of her outspoken ways."

Octavian growled low in his throat. "My wife leads me about by the heart . Let me be clear, I will never raise a hand to her nor will I ever allow anyone else to do so."

The laird's son sneered.

The laird marched over and cuffed his offspring. "Grow up, lad. How do ye think to lead our clan when all ye know how to do is bully and insult? Put yer dirk away or I shall take it away from ye. Is yer behavior not proving Mrs. Thorne's exact point?"

His son stormed off, no doubt to the closest tavern to drown his sorrows in ale. Octavian doubted the young man would ever reform his ways, for there were such people who could not see beyond their noses. They blamed everyone but themselves for anything that went wrong, and always looked upon others for what they could do for him rather than what he could do for them.

He hoped he was wrong, for the father was a man Octavian respected.

Had the son inherited any of the older man's qualities?

Octavian and the laird exchanged apologies, then agreed to meet by the sheep pens an hour from now to finalize the ownership papers for the flock.

Once Jamie and the laird had left them, Octavian turned to Syd.

She gazed at him with defiance in her eyes. "Do not say it. That man is trouble and his father knows it. Jamie could not have handled him if he were part of the Armstrong crew sent up to Greenock. The arrogant oaf would have undercut Jamie's authority at every turn and possibly sabotaged the ships being built out of spite."

Octavian raked a hand through his hair. "We all know he has some growing up to do, Syd. Even his father cannot deny it. But you should not have said it aloud. As for sabotage, that is a hanging offense. Not even he, as petulant and shortsighted as he is, would ever do anything so foolish. That would be a betrayal of his country."

"The ships may be built in Scotland, but they are English ships. He would view it as betraying the English and think of himself as a hero. I know you did not want him in Greenock. Was it not better that I take the blame in forbidding him rather than you? Everyone in England already thinks of me as unreasonable. Let the Scots think so, too."

He wanted to remain angry with her, but it seemed he was incapable of holding anything but love for her. Lord, he was in trouble if this is how their exchanges would always end. "Syd, blast it. You are my wife. I want people to think of you as a princess, not an impertinent, outspoken pest."

"A princess?" She shook her head and laughed. "There is no one in the world who would think this of me."

"I do," he said in all seriousness.

She stared at him in stunned silence.

Was she waiting for him to declare it a jest? She would have to wait forever because he was not taking back his words. Yes, she was irritating. Yes, she was outspoken.

And yes, he loved her.

After a moment, she released a ragged breath. "Octavian, you cannot say such things to me."

"Why not?" In truth, it hurt his heart to see the damage her parents had done to make her feel so undeserving. This was the very reason she was struggling to accept the permanence of their marriage. The happier she was, the more anxious she became. "Why will you not accept that you have good qualities?"

"Because it isn't true. I am no one's princess. Never have been."

"As told to you by an inept mother and a worthless father." He struggled to subdue his anger at everyone who had ever cast her down. "Who are you going to believe? Them or me? Moments ago, you declared to Laird Armstrong that I was the most honest man you knew. Were you lying to him?"

"No!"

"Then why will you not believe me?" He did not mean to growl at her, but this discussion seemed to come up every day. Instead of accepting the truth, she always retreated to this familiar position of denigrating herself.

Dismissing affection was how she protected herself.

He would not allow her to do this with him any longer. "Are you telling me that I have made a poor choice in a wife? Or that the brightest minds in Glasgow, Greenock, and London are wrong to think you are clever?"

Syd glanced around the crowded fair, obviously unhappy to be having this discussion amid sheep, goats, and other cattle, or amid the crushing crowd. Many of the fair goers were already in their cups, if the shouts and jeers from the nearby ale tent were any indication. "How about you be honest with yourself for a change and admit Lady Clementine would have been a better fit for you. A proper, biddable wife."

"Where did that come from?" he asked, making a strangled sound of disbelief. "Surely, you are jesting. Lady Clementine would have made me miserable. Marriage to her would have been the true farce."

She fixed her stubborn stare on him. "Men were tripping over each other to gain her attention and win her hand."

"I wasn't."

She snorted. "You were first in line, Octavian. Do you forget already? It must be so convenient to have a selective memory."

"I will not deny that I once considered her, but I just as quickly dismissed her. She was not you ."

Syd snorted again. "Oh, yes. I am such a prize."

"To me you are. Stop doing that, Syd. You come up with all sorts of ridiculous reasons to push me away whenever you fear we are getting too close. You are terrified you will inevitably disappoint me, and I am telling you that it will never happen."

She turned away and started to walk off, but he took her hand and kept her close for fear of losing her in the crowd.

Perhaps one day she would agree with him when he told her that she was worthy.

Obviously, it would not be today.

It irked him how contradictory Syd could be. "Be angry with me, if you must. But stop tossing Lady Clementine's name in my face. All right? You know there was never anything between us. She's just a convenient cannonball you hurl at me to deflect the truth."

She folded her arms across her chest and frowned at him. "And what is that truth?"

"That our marriage has never been make-believe. We are burned into each other's heart. Just accept it."

He felt awful when she practically crumbled before him. He was frustrated, but she was scared and he should have taken it easy on her today. She worked so hard to achieve all she had done despite the obstacles Society tossed in her way.

No medical school would accept her, so she had learned anatomy and the healing arts all on her own. She had mastered them to the point he would trust her before he trusted most doctors in London. Her forensic knowledge was above anyone else in the field, which was why his brother, the Duke of Huntsford, had given her unlimited access to the Huntsford Academy's forensic laboratory.

She was beautiful, honest, and compassionate, and yet, she saw herself as lacking.

The blame lay squarely with her parents.

To bloody hell with them.

"Are you thirsty, Syd? I think we've both gotten a little hot under the collar."

She nodded. "Yes, I'd like that. I'm sorry I am being so difficult."

"I'm no prize," he said with a grunt. "I just want you to be happy."

"I want the same for you," she said softly, placing her arm in his.

"I know." He knew she was in love with him.

Deeply and forever in love with him.

Did this not add to his frustration?

That he had not claimed her as a husband ought to claim his wife was his greatest worry. He had shown her how to satisfy him in other ways. It was not about the sexual pleasure, but about the commitment.

The sex was great.

Syd would have kicked him in the bollocks had she not desired him or wanted his touch. What she felt for him was not a mere, wanton desire but a deep and abiding love. The little hellion had a lot of passion in her, and it was all for him.

All she had to do was accept they were meant for each other.

Octavian kept her close as they made their way through the crowd, but as they neared the one of the refreshment stands, Octavian realized the line was impossibly long. "We'll be standing her into the night. Anyway, I'm not just thirsty but hungry, too. Shall we grab a meal at the inn before I meet with Laird Armstrong?"

"All right. Yes, let's get out of this crush."

The day was not particularly warm, but no one felt the light chill in the air because there were too many bodies in close proximity producing sweat and heat. Nor could he and Syd avoid the odors carried on the breeze since they were standing downwind of the ale tent and the animal pens.

He now led her back to the inn where they were staying for tonight, as well. It was too close to the fairgrounds for his liking, but there was not a spare room to be had elsewhere in Melrose or within twenty miles of the town. They were fortunate that a sudden departure had opened the room for them.

Bribes were not uncommon when rooms were this scarce, but the innkeeper appeared to be an honest man and did not charge them extra. As Syd was quick to point out upon their arrival, no one would dare cheat him since he was the brother of the Duke of Huntsford. "Yer brother is known in these parts, Captain Thorne. He's an excellent man. Excellent. Ye just call upon me for anything ye or yer wife need. Aye, His Grace is an excellent man."

Octavian grumbled a bit as the man had gushed about Ambrose. Yes, he was a good brother and marvelous man. But he and Julius had worked hard to stand on their own and make something of themselves. However, in instances such as this, he knew better than to allow his pride to stand in the way. There was nothing wrong with occasionally taking advantage of the privileges afforded because of one's connections.

The inn, being in such close proximity to the fairgrounds and having an excellent common room, was packed to the rafters. "Blast, let me see if there is a private dining room to be had. Wait here, Syd. I'll be right back."

Although she had mighty opinions, she herself was not all that big and could not possibly make her way through a throng as tightly packed as this one was.

She surveyed the room and nodded. "All right. Hurry back."

"I will, love." He left her standing at the entrance and brusquely shouldered his way through the mob of diners, many of whom were already unruly and drunk. The wooden floorboards were slippery in some places and sticky in others from all the ale sloshed onto them.

Octavian marveled at the ability of the inn's maids to avoid the outstretched hands and crude advances of several louts who tried to pinch their bottoms or draw them onto their laps as the maids sailed past them. These ladies managed to smoothly dart and dodge between these men while carrying large trays piled high with food for their hungry guests.

This was how he hoped these newly designed navy warships would maneuver at sea, swiftly able to change course, shifting left or right with ease, and agile enough to sail between enemy ships and blast them with their cannons.

He laughed at the idea of comparing these able maids to first rate battleships. The designs for those ships had been in the works for years. They were now drawn and ready to be realized. He was to spend the next few years traveling from shipyard to shipyard to oversee their construction.

He shook out of the thought.

The immediate problem was getting food for him and Syd, and obtaining a quiet place for them to dine.

The harried innkeeper had little time for him just now, but a few coins placed in his gnarled fingers quickly did the trick. There was only one dish served to the crowd, a hearty stew with bits of whatever meat and vegetables remained in the inn's larder. "We've been so busy because of the fair," the innkeeper explained, "that our kitchen ran out of our usual fare hours ago."

"Bring us whatever you have," he said, shouting to be heard above the noise. "And drinks, too. Ale for me and cider for my wife."

He then tossed the man another coin before shoving his way through the crowd to return to Syd. His heart shot into his throat when he reached the entrance to the common room and could not find her. "Syd! Syd!"

Calling her name was useless since noisy crowds were everywhere inside and out in front of the inn. He walked down the street in search of her. People chattered, musicians played, couples were dancing. He asked a few older ladies seated on a bench if they had seen Syd walk by.

"No, captain."

He returned to the inn, his path interrupted by drunks who were roaring with laughter, and a few others who were fighting among themselves. Fortunately, they were too wasted to actually land any solid blows against each other, and one of them passed out at his feet.

Things would only get worse as night fell.

Where was Syd?

He tore up to their room, but she wasn't there.

He ran back downstairs and finally saw her in the small yard behind the inn, surrounded by a group of angry Scots. "Botheration, what did you do now, Syd?" he muttered and hastened outside. The group surrounding her were all men, and some of them had drawn their dirks. "Lord, give me strength," he prayed under his breath and walked out.

That giant chip Syd carried on her shoulder was going to get her into serious trouble one of these days.

He hoped today was not the day.

Blessed saints.

What had she said to get these Scots so riled?