Eliza was placed somewhere closer to the center as well, but not as concisely as Octavia Hennington. Her husband was on the other side of his brother, next to Lord Forthill. Definitely a statement of inclusion in the family. The connection was being advertised.
This is what he hated about society—the games, the perceptions and the manipulation. Some people thrived on this, and a cut like Octavia had received was devastating. Octavia didn’t look the least concerned, and she laughed at something her neighbor said, seemingly having a perfectly pleasant time.
He gave her credit for her fortitude. She seemed not the least bit affected by this.
The soup course was served and the conversation quieted down in some quarters. A few people seemed more focused on their drinks and continued chatting. As expected, the food was nice, drawing on the finest ingredients and a skilled chef.
Conversation wasn’t thrilling. Lady Forthill spouted the virtues and skills of her daughter. The girl was beaming being the center of attention. Even so, Finn found it difficult staying engaged in the conversation of how skilled Lydia was with driving carriages. Not all young ladies were taught to do it, but her parents felt a girl should be able to step in and carry herself away if the situation was ever required. It was a good notion, and he thought better of the Forthills for it.
By the time supper was over, Finn had had his fill of Lydia Forthill’s accomplishments, but he told Mr. Forthill what a marvelous meal it was when he approached the man.
“Thank you kindly,” he replied. “I believe you have some investments in Africa. The Gold Coast, is it?”
“Yes,” Finn replied. “Infrastructure, predominantly.”
“There are some lucrative mining opportunities, I understand. I’ve been approached by one or two.”
“I tend to contain myself to infrastructure.” The mining investments could be extremely lucrative, but they were also much riskier. Finn preferred the safer investments with a modest but steady income. Ports were always needed, and they served the mining operations, which had wiped out more than a few investors through various disasters. Ports didn’t sink, they didn’t succumb to fevers, or collapses, or price fluctuations. Mines appealed more to the gamblers at heart. Lord Forthill was apparently attracted by the high returns promised by the prospectors.
Chapter 7
CRESSIDA BEHAVED AS IF completely unaware that she’d placed Octavia in the most undesirable section of the supper table. She was sweetness personified, but Octavia knew full well that it was her doing. Until now, she hadn’t known the girl saw her as such a threat. In most ways, it didn’t make sense, was even counterintuitive, but some couldn’t help but be competitive with other women, for any reason.
This didn’t spell well for coexisting after Julian married her. Maybe the girl had heard that she’d been trying to convince Julius to make another choice. If so, her behavior was understandable. It would also mean that Julius had blabbed about her, and that could not be forgiven. She would have to give Julius a piece of her mind, which he rarely enjoyed. Things told to him in confidence needed to stay that way.
It was tricky with wives. Caius and Eliza were very secretive about themselves and their activities. Neither of them could be drawn into conversation about how the relationship was going. Everything was fine, apparently.
During supper, Octavia had observed how Lady Forthill had fawned over Lord Fortescue. At one point, Octavia had encouraged the match, but if he ended up with Lydia Forthill, it would mean he would be around at family events, being part of Julius’ in-laws. That couldn’t be a good thing, so Lord Fortescue taking an interest in Lydia should be discouraged. How could one man be so troublesome?
The dancing started and Octavia searched the room for both Lord Fortescue and James Fervoy, who hadn’t asked her to dance yet. In all honesty, getting a man to pay attention to her wasn’t difficult. Usually it required little more than a smile, and her power of attraction was true. James approached. “Miss Hennington. A pleasure to see you. I understand congratulations are in order for your brother. A fortuitous match.”
“If one could tolerate it.” After the snub at supper, Octavia felt little loyalty. “How are you? It's been an age since I’ve seen you. I hope your summer was splendid.”
“Stupendous. How is your father?”
“As cantankerous as ever. Now, you have been very remiss in asking me to dance,” she said, tapping him lightly on his arm with her fan in admonishment.
“A grave oversight, I assure you. Miss Hennington, it would be my immense pleasure if you would join me on the dancefloor this evening.”
“I would be delighted. You would, by far, be the handsomest of my dancing partners this evening.”
The barest touch of pink colored his cheeks at the compliment. If he didn’t call on her after this, then he was a clod. But it didn’t do to give men too much attention. It gave them the wrong ideas. “Then I look forward to our dance. Farewell until then,” she said with a smile before wandering off. It would never do for the man to be the one to leave the conversation.
“Miss Hennington,” a man said, drawing her attention. Lord Fortescue. Just wonderful. “You promised me a dance.”
Truthfully, she’d expected him to forget about the promise. Perhaps he was a man who followed through with his promises no matter what. Surely he didn’t want to dance with her? That would also be an unwelcome outcome. “Of course,” she said with a tight smile.
“Then I will claim it at the earliest opportunity.”
“That is wise, I’m sure.”
Relenting, she placed her gloved hand in his and he led her onto the dancefloor, where the gathered pairs were preparing for a quadrille. They took their places and waited for the music to start.
“You are my sister-in-law’s landlord, I believe.”
“That is correct.”
The steps started and he took her hand. He was handsome. No wonder Eliza had been flattered by his attention. On some level, Octavia could see that they’d make a handsome couple. Then again, what kind of man accepted a divorcee as his wife? It made her curious. Not that she personally thought divorce was such a sin that a person could not exist in society. Many did, but not this man, apparently.
Divorcees typically had very few good options. Eliza would have been fine with the business she started. And this man who had been interested in her. And most likely, he still was. It hadn’t gone unobserved that his gaze had veered in that direction a few times during supper. People might lie, but their eyes rarely did.
“I believe Eliza expects the business will be handed over to her business partner more and more.”
He didn’t say anything, instead effortlessly moved through the steps. Dancing didn’t scare him, but it didn’t enthuse him either. If not for Eliza, he probably wouldn’t have considered it at all.
“It’s always hard to know the future,” he finally said.
“Oh, I don’t know. When it comes to Caius and Eliza, there have always been feelings that have run deep between them. It was a love match, you see.”
“Well, they ran far too,” he replied. “Deep feelings don’t always mean constancy.”
“Oh, my brother is very constant,” she shot back.
“People who seek an excuse to leave will always find one.”
The steps moved them apart for a moment, and then back together. “I don’t think you understand the nature of their relationship.”
A small smile graced his lips. “There is a sympathetic perspective on every story.”
“Pray tell, what do you mean?”
“A sister is often blind to a brother’s faults.”
Was that enough of an affront to slap him? Because she really wanted to. How dare he say something like that?
“But as it stands,” he continued and Octavia gritted her teeth. “Your and my opinion are entirely unimportant on other people’s relationships. Character and intent speak for themselves, irrespective of what either of us thinks about it.�
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Everything she feared was real. This man was waiting for an opportunity to pounce. Caius had to be warned, because Fortescue couldn’t be allowed to interfere with Eliza’s and Caius’ happiness. “There is also something to be said for not interfering in other people’s marriages. I believe it's extremely frowned upon.”
“I don’t think we were discussing interference of any kind. Merely that relationships take the course of reflecting the character of the two people involved. History is the best predictor for the future.”
If she were a man, she would call this man out, maybe even insist that her brother’s honor be avenged. “Well, I find that arrogant assumptions often leave people disappointed, as I can assure you, you will be. Because when it comes down to it, Caius has something no man can compete with.”
“And what is that?” This was amusing him, and that made her even angrier. How dare he be so callous about something so important? In fact, she wanted to hit him with something larger than her fan.
“Eliza loves him,” she stated matter-of-factly. For while Eliza might have been flattered by this man’s attention, she loved Caius. “Simply a fact. You should place your attention elsewhere. Lydia Forthill is a lovely young woman. You should make sure to dance with her. Lady Forthill would be very disappointed if you don’t.”
“Except that would send a message I’m not prepared to send. Would it perhaps not be crueler to get the young woman’s hopes up when I don’t actually have any intention with regards to the aforementioned young woman?”
This man had the audacity to toy with her. “Because she is a much more suitable match and a much better pursuit than entertaining ambitions for other men’s wives. It is deeply frowned on, you see, and you will be seen as an untrustworthy man in this society.” Well, two could play this game.
The expression in his eyes changed. “Let me make this clear, Miss Hennington. I don’t interfere with other people’s marriages, but if some walk away from theirs completely of their own accord, I have no qualms seeing the jewel that their idiocy has left behind.”
The man could certainly be sharp when he wanted to be.
“Something that isn’t going to happen, I assure you. I have the benefit of knowing both of the parties referred to within this conversation much better than you do.”
“As I said, their actions will speak for themselves.”
Oh, how she wanted to say that Eliza was with child right then and watch that smugness melt from his face. Why wasn’t she with child yet? Surely Caius wasn’t so slow in moving that it was something they weren’t... doing.
His hand at her lower back felt burning hot as they swung around and then broke apart again. How she wished this dance would end now. But now, they squared off again, hands meeting in front of them.
If it wasn’t for the fact that this man was interested in her sister-in-law, she would be impressed by a man who actually knew what he wanted. In this case, however, he was simply not going to get it. It was too bad for him that he’d set his sights on someone who wasn’t available, and a part of a family who protected her marriage. If only Octavia could get Julius to take this threat seriously, but he was off with his insipid fiancée. It was deeply disappointing. Equally, Caius was utterly ignoring this threat, when he should be chasing this man out of town.
Chapter 8
WHEN THE DANCE BROKE, Finn led Octavia Hennington back to where he’d found her and bowed before taking his leave. If she hadn’t pressed him into it, he would never have danced with her, and it seemed the intent was to warn him off.
Having had enough of dancing, he took himself to the cards room, which was thick with tobacco smoke, and away from the colorful displays and hopeful young women.
“Managed to escape her?” a man asked. Julius Hennington. Finn had seen him earlier when the Forthill family had been receiving. Personally, Finn wasn’t sure of the wisdom in aligning oneself to this family. Granted, they were prominent, and probably not worse than many others. In the time or two he’d met Cressida Forthill, she hadn’t left the best impression on him.
But judging from how Octavia had just treated him, perhaps this was a family with a comparable sense of entitlement.
“Who?” Finn asked.
“My sister. Please, have a seat,” he said, indicating the spare chair at the table.
“I’m not much of a player.” It had never been an activity he’d invested a great deal of time in. Mostly, he’d just now sought the cards table to get away from the mercenary eyes traveling the other room, seeking matches for their young wards. But he took the offered seat and drew out his tobacco pouch. “A whiskey, if you’d be so kind,” he said to the waiter who approached him. “Miss Hennington was a cordial dancing partner,” he finally said and Julius chuckled.
“I doubt that. She’s on the warpath when it comes to you.”
“She did warn me off,” Finn said succinctly.
“I’m surprised she didn’t run you through with a spit and roasted you over the fire.”
“She didn’t mince words.”
“Don’t pay her any mind. Her intentions are good, but at times, she tackles her tasks with vigor.” Tackled was probably a good word for it. “She takes it upon herself to protect us mere men from our own foolishness.”
That still couldn’t mean she approved of how the Forthill women had treated her tonight. If she’d been a proponent of Julius’ marriage to Cressida Forthill before tonight, she surely wasn’t going to be from now on.
“Do you play?” Julius asked.
“On occasion. Deal me in.”
The croupier included him in the next round, but his lack of interest saw him out of the game in short order. He’d much rather fold than invest increasing sums on a game he didn’t care about. As the game continued without him, he studied the people at the table, and then looked out into the larger room beyond, where dancing still occurred.
Across the dance floor, he saw Lord Warwick give Eliza a drink, and the smile she gave him in return. She adored her husband. One only had to see her smile at him to know it. Octavia’s warning was true. Eliza loved her husband.
With a sigh, he returned his attention to the game. Towards the end of it, even Julius had bowed out when the stakes became uncomfortably high. Some men refused to give, and there were two of them competing with each other. Like most, Finn understood the competitiveness between men, but this was a stupid place to exercise it. He could be accused of treating his investments as the stage of competition he’d chosen, an arena where his success pleased him.
As with anything, success needed some level of study. For his kind of investments, a broader understanding of the world helped immensely when deciding how to place himself at the pinch point that enabled others to realize their ambition. With Eliza, however, there seemed to be no such point.
His attention was drawn by Octavia passing by on the dancefloor, accompanied by a dark-haired man. Her smile was a very different thing from what he’d received from her. As opposed to him, she wanted to make a good impression on this man.
“Do you have sisters?” Julius Hennington asked, seemingly having observed his distraction.
“No, I have no siblings.” As a child, he’d lamented the lack of siblings, not being able to play the kinds of games that other children played at home. His childhood had nonetheless been happy for the most part. As a youth, everything had changed while he’d been at boarding school, and his family had shrunk to the size of one. It had been a shock to start with, but his studies, and then his social life, had distracted him.
He’d learnt to fend for himself, with the assistance of good staff with progressive management skills. Hiring good people was one of his skills, and it had served him well. There was no financial detriment to either his investments or his estate, but recently, there had been an itch for roots, for grounding and stability. This dreaded longing that seemed to come for everyone, in the end.
The dancing finished and Octavia was led to the side, w
here her dancing partner chatted with her. She giggled at something he said and then prodded him with her fan. All sweetness and mirth. Quite a different woman entirely from the one he’d just encountered.
“Who’s that she’s dancing with? Fervoy? Well, he is pretty enough. She tends to flirt with the handsomest men. It seems Fervoy is to be the target for her flirting this year. My sister is a consummate flirt, until she has enough of them. Then she moved on without looking back.”
“She seems very decisive,” Finn said and turned to seek the waiter for another drink.
“Please don’t take her behavior to heart. She’s afraid and she’s particularly decisive when she’s afraid. Caius leaving hurt her the most. They were always close, and she didn‘t take his leaving well. She was still quite young when it happened, and she’s afraid things will go wrong again. Irrationally so, perhaps, but when is fear not irrational? She would perhaps feel better if she could control all of us.”
Finn could understand the urge following loss, the need to control everything around so bad things didn’t happen. Now he was annoyed, because he didn’t want to feel understanding and sympathy for her. Perhaps this was simpler and more enjoyable if she was just an abrasive battle-ax.
The source of her fear approached, with Eliza on his arm. He smiled at his brother, then gave a quick nod to the other parties around the table. If he felt particularly unhappy about Finn being there, he didn’t show it. “I think we are going to withdraw a little early.”
Julius checked his pocket watch. “Aren’t you embracing your elderly years a bit soon? It’s not even midnight.”
“I hope you enjoyed the evening,” Eliza said. Him being there had to place her in a difficult position, but not to the point where she ignored him.
Finn rose to speak to her. “It has been entertaining. A dance between us was not on the cards, it seems.” Interestingly, Caius Hennington didn’t react particularly to him speaking to his wife, which suggested a certain level of confidence in his marriage, or utter lack of caring. Everything else he’d seen suggested the former.
Miss Octavia Insists (The Henningtons Book 2) Page 4
