Miss Octavia Insists (The Henningtons Book 2)

by Camille Oster

  Were there no good men in the world? Caius and Julius could make silly decisions when their emotions were involved, but at their core, they were good men who were loyal to their wives. Caius certainly was, and she was sure Julius would be too. For herself, finding a good man with both a sense of humor and the ability to not say stupid things had proved a lofty ambition. Granted, she had paid attention to the most attractive men, and in turn had found them to be vain and insipid, and plain stupid. James had seemed different, but when it came down to it, his insides were rotten.

  Chapter 14

  “LORD FORTESCUE, ARE YOU not in the mood to be fleeced at the card table tonight?” Julius said, approaching where Finn stood by the fire with a drink in hand. The evening was turning into that phase when those who’d drunken a little too much were getting a little loud. Raucous laughter was heard in the corner.

  “To be honest, I don’t have much time for cards.”

  “A sensible sentiment. I, unfortunately, do get drawn in, even as I know it’s a fool’s pastime,” he said and took a drag of his cheroot.

  “My sincere congratulations on your wedding.”

  “Thank you. If we can survive the honeymoon, then we’ll be fine, I suspect.”

  “I understand you are to go to Italy.”

  “Yes, I am quite excited. I’m excited to miss some of the harsh winter weather too. Not all of it, mind you. We’re only going for six weeks.”

  “It’s a fair amount of time.” Not a leisurely tour, but when one had responsibilities to get back to, six weeks was a considerable amount of time.

  “I hear you’ve been keeping the company of Sir Reiner,” Julius said and Finn was impressed how well informed he was. There hadn’t been that many people at the meeting in Manchester.

  “Only with regard to an investment.”

  “The man is legendary. It will be an interesting investment if Reiner is involved.”

  “Rail in lower Egypt.”

  “Ah, the Sudan. There are tales of untold treasures in the country.”

  “And trade that could be developed.”

  “The East India company has been making some forays into the Sudan, I believe. I hear they have made some plans in that region.”

  That was good to hear. Julius did seem to hear things others didn’t, including himself. “You are not considering making investments yourself?”

  “Unfortunately, such decisions are my father’s to make. I have some small holdings in India, but nothing of the magnitude required to make a decent stake in an emerging opportunity. My father is very old-fashioned. His comfort has always been in the West Indies.”

  It was a shame. His father should make use of his son’s skill and knowledge, but it wasn’t uncommon that the previous generation dismiss the interests of the following one. It was the unfortunate position that Julius was still in. “But I do hope we can discuss it further when I return from the Continent,” Julius said. “I’m interested to hear of your plans.” And Finn was certainly interested to hear any tidbits Julius had heard through his contact. “I’ll introduce you to some friends.”

  No doubt an introduction he would greatly benefit from. “That is very generous. We should stick together us who are interested in trade more than seeking benefits through Parliament.” They both agreed there, too. So many still believed that Parliament was the way to sustaining their fortune, in passing laws that served them, while bamboozling the public into believing the outcome would be something very different. It had both cynicism and deception, and there was something uncomfortable about it for Finn, and he’d much rather focus on developing trade that served everyone. It seemed Julius felt the same.

  “Now, I think I am needed, but let’s reacquaint when I return. I take it you’re staying in London through winter?”

  “If I can tolerate it.”

  “You know the Forthills have designs on you for their younger daughter,” Julius warned.

  “The ambition has not escaped me.”

  “She’s a bright girl.”

  “Yes, but she is not destined for me, I’m afraid.”

  Mercifully, Julius didn’t argue. “I suppose my sister doesn’t catch your fancy?”

  “I think she would wear your guts for garters if you so much as suggest it.”

  “I see you’ve met her,” Julius said with a smile. Her brother enjoyed her antics, it seemed. She was lucky to have such a brother, because some families would censure her more severely. It actually made him think better of the Henningtons, but then, considering their father’s total and complete lack of care for society and its rules, it was hardly surprising that they weren't the strictest advocates for polite etiquette.

  “I think I’ll step outside for a while and get some air,” Finn said. It was starting to feel warm and stuffy in the cards room, and he wasn’t going anywhere near the dancing where the Forthills would likely hound him into participating again. Once was enough to reach his tolerance.

  “Have you seen Miss Hennington?” asked that young man she’d been associating with.

  “Can’t say that I have,” Finn answered, and I’m better off for it. The man continued his search, and Finn let himself out of the door into the darkened veranda outside. A couple stood talking further down, people he didn’t recognize, and he felt awkward disturbing them, so he continued down the steps into the garden. The light from the house barely lit it, and the moonlight helped. It was dark, but not so he couldn’t see the walkways.

  Fresh, crisp air filled his lungs and he exhaled slowly. In all, the evening had been enjoyable, but he really needed to convince the Forthills that he wasn’t worth them investing their time in. It could be that they hounded him until he actually married someone else. That might be true for all of them. London could be out of bounds until such time, and Bath would be even worse.

  Sniffling was heard, and he didn’t understand that someone else was there until he stumbled onto a figure sitting on a bench. “My pardon,” he said.

  “Go away,” came the crisp voice of Octavia Hennington. He couldn’t see her eyes, but he could see that she wiped them. There had been tears.

  “You are upset,” he pointed out, not knowing what else to say.

  “Very observant, now go away.”

  Finn felt torn. It wasn’t really in him to walk away from a distressed woman. “We shouldn’t be seen together,” he stated. It would be terrible for her reputation.

  “Why are men so awful?” she finally said accusingly. Something must have happened, and possibly related to the man who’d been searching for her.

  “I believe Mr. Fervoy is seeking you.”

  “He can go jump in the stream. I should never have invited him. I should have known he would be utterly disappointing, because you all are.”

  “I am glad to hear that I’ve been included in that company.”

  “How can you not be? My sister-in-law is with child, by the way, so there is some eminently good news.”

  “Then she has my deepest congratulations. Julius as well. He seems very happy.” It might be the wrong thing to say, because she groaned slightly. “You don’t approve of his choice?” And Eliza being with child didn’t surprise him in the least. Her husband would be an utter idiot to ensure that didn’t happen.

  “I never said that.”

  “I have seen that they seem to be very considerate of you.”

  “Yes, they are trying to unwelcome me into my own family.”

  “I am sure your brother would do no such thing.”

  “Of course he wouldn’t,” she said defensively.

  Still, it would make it awkward for her if her brother’s new wife treated her like the poor relation, someone given charity. It wasn’t an enviable position she was in, and now her hopes for Mr. Fervoy were dashed. Finn had no advice to give in this regard. Finding a suitable wife was proving very elusive. “Us seekers will simply have to keep looking. At least you aren’t being hounded every time you leave the house.”

&
nbsp; “You are very eligible. Word has gotten out that you seek a wife,” she said, a note of defiance in her voice. “It would have the moment you showed up for the season.”

  Did it sound like there was a certain degree of guilt there?

  Chapter 15

  SITTING IN CAIUS’ HOUSE, Octavia stared out the window. It was raining heavily today, and the fire couldn’t quite clear the damp. The slight clink broke the silence as Eliza returned her teacup to its saucer.

  “Have you heard from Julius?” Eliza asked.

  “Not a word. Not that I expected to. He’s much too focused on the here and now to think about sending word to us back home. I’m sure he’s having a grand time.”

  On a rainy day like this, no one was in the mood to call. Since returning to London, she’d been staying with Caius, rather than on her own in the family townhouse.

  “James Fervoy hasn’t come to visit,” Eliza said, trying to shift Octavia’s somber mood into conversation. “I expected we would see him.”

  “I told him not to. I’m through showing any interest in him.”

  “Whatever for?” Eliza asked, looking concerned.

  “I simply didn’t like some of the things he said.” Now she hoped Eliza didn’t press, because the specifics of what he’d said wasn’t something she wanted to talk about. “I’ll simply turn my attention to someone more interesting. Did you notice Barnaby Hallaway? He is rather handsome.”

  Mr. Hallaway was new to London, and quite an attractive man. His prospects weren’t ideal, but they weren’t disastrous. A bit of a stepdown in her situation didn’t bother her, provided she got a good marriage in return. And Mr. Hallaway seemed a nice man, unlike some of the miscreants the finer universities churned out to attend their first season. It seemed he was well-liked, and didn’t display any crudeness in either attitude or speech.

  “I can’t say he made an impression.”

  “That’s because you’re not looking.”

  “Octavia, you are more than welcome to stay with us for however long you should wish. I warn against making any rash decisions based on the changes at home.”

  “I have no intention of making rash decisions.” To be sure, Cressida now being a part of the family, and living with them, was urging her to more seriously consider the marriage prospects in the men she knew.

  “It’s important to find a good husband, a husband that suits one, more than a suitable husband. I fear Julius has made the latter choice, and I do hope it works well for him. They seem similar in their outlook on life, and that might serve them well.” Clearly, Eliza was more worried about Julius’ marriage than Octavia had expected. She was hoping for the best, but she was cautious. It reflected Octavia’s view, but more eloquently. “What about Lord Fortescue?”

  “I’m sorry. What about him?”

  “He is the most eligible man in town at the moment.”

  “Well, firstly, he’s escaped town, and I expect he’ll continue to be ‘escaped’, and secondly, did you just not tell me it was more important to pick someone who suits me more than who is deemed suitable? Lord Fortescue would be worst possible choice. We do not get on at all.” Octavia made a cutting motion with her hand to accentuate her sentiments. Where was Eliza getting these ludicrous ideas?

  “He is a good man.”

  For a moment, Octavia had no means to argue, or rather, couldn’t get the right argument out. Eliza thought he was a good man, and maybe there was something to be said for him recognizing what a gem Eliza was, even when the entire world was set against her. And for herself, she struggled to forgive herself for not seeing through the claims that awful man had constructed against her.

  So it was understandable that Eliza was fond of him. That didn’t mean Octavia and him were remotely suitable. It was the silliest notion, born out of fondness, but not rationality. It was so silly, Octavia had to chuckle. “What ideas you have.”

  The comment seemed to make Eliza grow completely pale and Octavia was confused. Why was this so shocking?

  Hurriedly, Eliza grabbed a pot plant and threw up into it, a sight both distressing and shocking. Octavia didn’t know what to do, while Eliza hung onto the pot plant as if it would save her life. “Mr. James!” Octavia called and she heard the man’s hurried step. For being a butler, Mr. James was extraordinary with his missing arm and general ragamuffin appearance, but he assessed the situation quickly and rescued the distressed pot plant. “Perhaps you need to lie down for a moment, madam,” he suggested.

  “No, I’m fine. It has passed, I think,” Eliza said, while Octavia found herself frozen somewhere between sitting and standing.

  “It comes on so quickly, I barely have time to react. It’s settling... I think.”

  “Should I bring a bowl, just in case?” Mr. James suggested.

  “I should have thought of it,” Eliza said with a smile, looking embarrassed. Well, at least her cheeks were nice and pink now rather than the instantaneous pale of a minute ago. “I’m fine,” she reiterated.

  “It is the morning sickness?” Octavia asked—something she’d always heard about, but had never seen in person. And it was shocking how violently it had come on.

  “Yes, but they lie. It isn’t just mornings at all. It can happen any time. If it was just mornings, you could plan your day around it. As it is, I should walk around with a bowl wherever I go.”

  Mr. James took the plant away.

  Was Caius aware of this? He had to be. “Where is my brother?”

  “He had to go somewhere,” Eliza answered. “He said, but you know, I can’t remember anything people tell me at the moment.” Well, hopefully she’d forget entirely bringing up any notion of her and Lord Fortescue, Octavia thought. She hadn’t realized Eliza was so fragile in her pregnancy. “Now what were we talking about?”

  “The nursery,” Octavia lied. “You have yet to decide what color it should be.”

  “I don’t recall mentioning, but I think green.”

  “Green is an excellent color for a nursery.” The one upstairs was from another time, probably from when fairytales were from, when there seemed to have been a more grim view on raising children. It was dark and unpleasant, and she felt sorry for any family members who’d grown up there.

  “Saying that, it might be better to have the child at Bickerley. It will be hot and unpleasant here by the time the child is born.”

  “Well, getting to Bickerley might not be pleasant. You can’t go now—you’d freeze to death. And come spring, travel may be too difficult.”

  “We will see,” Eliza said. “It’s not ideal.”

  Child-carrying never was. Octavia couldn’t imagine herself doing it, and much less so with Lord Fortescue being the cause. It was the most insane thought she could think of. Lord Fortescue stroking her belly the way Caius did—that was … ludicrious.

  “Would you like some tea?” Octavia asked with uncertainty.

  “Oh, I might fast just for a moment,” Eliza said with a smile.

  Eliza would make an excellent mother, but Octavia was starting to wonder if the pregnancy might be difficult for her. “They say the sickness passes after a few months.”

  “One can only hope. We should perhaps purchase some furniture for the nursery,” Eliza said. “We should see some of the furniture makers this afternoon and see if we can find a style we like.”

  It was true that Eliza was never one to keep still, so she struggled to be at home and doing little. Encouraging her to rest relentlessly was going to be a nightmare. It was difficult enough not to have her running off to that business of hers every day.

  The doorbell chimed and they heard murmurings as Mr. James dealt to the visitor. Before long, that woman Eliza worked with walked in, Teresa Broadman. Rosy-cheeked and bright-eyed. She was pretty, but an entirely different kind of creature. “How are you today?” Teresa asked.

  “Well, considering,” Eliza said. Teresa took a seat without being invited to. The lack of proper etiquette wasn’t alarming, but n
oticeable. Eliza didn’t seem to mind in the least. There was an utter familiarity between the women. “Tea?”

  “I would love some,” Teresa said and reached to serve herself. Again, it wasn’t something Octavia found distressing, but she couldn’t help but to note the transgressions.

  “How is the business faring?” Octavia asked.

  “It is faring sufficiently well, but we have a problem. Vermin have eaten through one of the grates and have transgressed.” This clearly was not an acceptable topic of conversation for a ladies’ tea, but Octavia was learning to expect all manner of unexpected things when it came to Teresa Broadman.

  “Those grates are made of steel.”

  “Well, we might have to consider something thicker and made of iron. There had been something nibbling on our wares.”

  “We can’t have that,” Eliza said. “I’ll have to write to Lord Fortescue to see what he can recommend. This is his responsibility.” It was jarring having him brought up in the conversation—again. Octavia tended to forget he was actively the landlord for the warehouse Eliza housed her business in.

  “Oh, and we got a letter from the Shelling Commission,” Teresa brought up.

  “What do they want now?” Eliza said, less than impressed.

  The discussion continued back and forth for a moment. Octavia just observed it. It was entirely unlike the discussions she had when people came calling. This must be more like how men were with each other. Utter plain speaking. It was interesting to observe, and it reminded her that there was a whole different side to Eliza that she didn’t always see. The businesswoman. Unfortunately, Octavia had nothing to add to the conversation.

  Chapter 16

  THERE WAS A SURPRISING amount to do on an estate if one searched for it. The weather was turning colder and the rain didn’t seem to stop. The fields were bedded down for the winter, but now was the time to do everything else—mend fences, fix equipment, maintain the buildings. The tasks were endless once Finn had started.