She’d also discovered that it was his weakness. He was so strong with everything else, but when she touched him, he wavered. And she loved how he did, how he responded to her with his very body. And she also knew he was ready—she could feel it. Enough of the basic mechanics had been told to her. How much of what she’d been told was true, she wasn’t entirely sure. But the hardness went inside her and it was akin to magic.
Reaching her hand down, she felt him through his breeches and his eyes utterly lost focus with the touch. The magic definitely worked for them, but his hand clasped around her wrist. “I won’t be able to stop.”
“I don’t want you to.”
He blinked and regarded her, and she had never felt so wanted before. Everything about him was attuned to her. If anyone said this wasn’t magic, she couldn’t agree with them. All she wanted was to touch his skin, but she had to access it. “I want all of you,” she said, pleading that he didn’t stop this out of some notion of propriety. Everything inside her needed more.
His arm slipping around her pulled her to him and he carried her into the next room where they sat down on the sofa. She straddled him, felt him beneath her, felt him pressed to her. They kissed again, but the sensations were so much more complex now. When she moved, the friction intensified everything. And that friction was exquisite. It almost seemed to hurt him, but she couldn’t stop. It just felt so good.
Reaching up her back, he undid the buttons of her dress, and cool air met her as he pulled it down around her, along with her chemise. She'd never been so exposed, and she loved it because it was with him. Her nipples ached painfully, and as he drew her near, he took one of his mouth. Fire flared inside her and she didn’t know what to do with herself. Her insides tightened painfully.
Finally releasing the tortured bud, she felt the coolness of the air on it.
“Are you sure?” he asked. “We can stop now.”
“No,” she said breathily. “Don’t stop, I mean.”
Shifting her to the sofa so she lay on her back, he helped her pull her dress further down along her, along with her chemise, drawers, and stockings, until there was nothing left. Then his vest and shirt. Then his breeches, and she saw him, all of him. She wasn’t scared. This really was magic.
Then he joined her, and for a moment, she couldn’t see how this would proceed, but the sensation overtook and all she could do was feel as that hardness pressed into her. “This will hurt a little,” he said softly.
“I know,” she said. She’d heard about that too, but she was ready.
It stung a little, but that was it. Slightly warm, but nothing more than that. She’d been expecting much worse. And then he was inside her and it felt curious and full. Her body wanted to move as she had before. But he moved and sensation overwhelmed her. All she could do was hang on. He kissed her again and more sensation assaulted her. She didn’t know where to focus, as if she was being drawn in different directions. It intensified with each stroke which grew harder and harder, and she clutched onto his shoulders with her arms.
Entirely unexpected, explosions of pleasure followed. How could this be so utterly marvelous? She held him as tightly as she could as he groaned deeply again and again before exhaustion seemed to claim him. Had this hurt him in some way? Or were there explosions of wondrousness for him too?
As she finally cooled, snuggling tightly with him felt wonderful. In fact, she wasn’t sure she’d ever felt this wonderful. In her heart, she knew this was perfect, and that this had been worth fighting for. There was no doubt in her mind.
“Your brothers will come looking for you if you stay any longer,” he said and kissed her on the cheek. This was so cozy, so wonderful, she didn’t want to leave, but yes, he was right, the longer she stayed here, the higher the risk of awkward questions. Not that she minded, she wanted everyone to know the good news.
“Alright,” she said, tearing herself away. For a moment, she just watched him, how beautiful he was. This was to be her husband, and she was beyond happy about it.
Grabbing her things, she dressed quickly. Had it been entirely unexpected that her dress had come off? Well, she’d been open to it happening, if the circumstances were right. She didn’t regret it, and really, she was more enthusiastic than she’d ever been about the idea of marrying. There was this lovely togetherness to be had.
Fortescue was dressed by the time she was ready to do up the buttons on her dress, and he helped her. “I think I’ll endeavor to make your cheeks so rosy every single day,” he said and kissed her on the nape of her neck. Lucious feelings rose up her again, but she pushed them away. Hopefully she would have the opportunity to spend some time alone with him again. Surely she didn’t have to wait until the wedding to do this again? It was just so lovely.
Lastly, she pulled on her hooded cloak.
“I’ll leave for Denham Hall immediately,” he said. “I hope your father will not be unduly surprised. We did quarrel quite a bit when we were there.”
“I honestly don’t know. Perhaps he’ll simply be relieved that I’ve finally found someone I’m willing to marry.”
“I should be honored then,” he said with a smile.
“Yes, you should. I’m quite a catch,” she said teasingly. All she wanted was to kiss him again, but if she did, she’d get stuck here for probably quite a while longer. Would it be so terrible? They were engaged.
“Go. I have to pack,” he said.
“Alright, fine,” she said and let him as he urged her out the door. Without looking around, she rushed away from the house and practically ran all the way home.
Somehow, it felt as though everything had changed, but she was let into the house without much fanfare. Mr. James took her cloak and didn’t ask any questions about her choice of outerwear. Eliza was coming out of the library carrying a book.
“Oh, there you are? Have you been out?”
“Yes,” Octavia said and followed her into the salon. “I went to see Fortescue.”
“On your own? Did you take Mary with you?” Eliza said with concern. Granted, she was right to be upset about something like that.
“No, but it’s alright,” Octavia said beamingly, even as Eliza didn’t look impressed. “We had words and now we’re engaged.”
“Oh?” Eliza said. “That’s wonderful.”
“Then he deflowered me, and—”
Eliza’s hand covered Octavia’s mouth in a flash. “Do not let Caius hear that,” Eliza warned. Octavia mumbled until Eliza finally pulled her hand away.
“It was wonderful,” Octavia whispered.
Eliza softened. “I’m very glad you feel that way. But really, if your brothers find out, it will be pistols at dawn.”
“We are engaged.”
“Yes, but don’t forget yourself. Brothers are still protective of their sisters.”
“Pfft,” Octavia said dismissively. “Anyway, Fortescue said he'll leave for Denham Hall this very afternoon to speak to my father.”
“Oh, I can’t believe it,” Eliza said. “No, I can. It’s perfect. He’s a good man. I think you’ll be very happy together.” There was nothing but delight on Eliza’s face. “And maybe my baby will have a cousin of quite close age.”
“I hope not too soon,” Octavia said.
“Then you had better rein in doing the things you should not be doing,” Eliza warned, and then she shook her head. “But then I’m not sure it’s worth telling you to do anything you don’t want to do, or to try to stop you doing what you want to do. Just be very careful, and restrain yourself. A mere month is not the end of the world. There is no need to be in such a great rush.”
Octavia didn’t feel like she was in a rush—she’d simply found how things were going to be, so what was the point in waiting? Oh yes, her stupid brothers were complete dolts.
Chapter 37
AS FINN CAME AROUND TO seeing Denham Hall out the window of his carriage, he recalled how weak he’d been the last time he’d come here. Octavia had taken him
home because she hadn’t known what else to do with him. And in a short time, his life had changed dramatically. Now he was trying to take her home. Although they seemed to know exactly what to do with each other now.
Drawing breath, he exhaled the tension in him. There was nothing to suggest this would go badly. Octavia seemed to think her father would approve the match, but one never knew with fathers.
Since he’d been here last, the foliage had all fallen, leaving slumbering trees and a frosty lawn. It was close to midday and frost still sat in the places that still remained in shadow.
The wind was icy as he stepped out of the carriage. A footman Finn recognized from before appeared on the stoop, looking perfectly reserved despite the cold. “Lord Fortescue, this is quite the surprise. Did you send word you were coming?”
“No, there wasn’t time. It’s only a quick visit. I wish to see Lord Hennington when he has the time to see me.”
“Please come in. The parlor is warm, but very little else is in the house right now. I’ll inform his lordship that you are here.”
“Please,” Finn said, hiding the fact that his nerves were asserting themselves. The parlor was warm when he was led it. Finn guessed this was where Lord Hennington spent much of his time through winter. A fire roared in the grate and his empty reading chair sat in front of it. The weather made it darker than when he’d seen it before.
The man disappeared and Finn stood by the fire, letting it chase away some of the cold from sitting in the carriage for hours.
“We have a visitor, I hear,” said the familiar voice of Lord Hennington. “It is rare indeed. One of the blessings of winter. No visitors and no infernal children.” The man took his seat and indicated to another chair. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
Intelligent eyes studied him as the old man waited patiently for Finn to decide which version of the ones he’d practiced he would launch into.
“Yes, I wished to speak to you. This may come as a surprise, or not, but over time, your daughter and I—”
“Octavia,” Lord Hennington filled in.
“—have come to an understanding.”
Lord Hennington raised one of his eyebrows and almost looked unimpressed. “You have come to ask for my daughter’s hand, I take it.”
“Yes, that is correct.”
“Because from what I hear, there are a few interested in my daughter’s hand. She is beautiful and well provisioned for. Quite a few see her as a prize.”
As opposed to what Octavia believed, it might just be that from the father’s point of view, he’d held hopes for more of a royal spouse for his daughter.
“My prospects are settled and steady, and not insignificant,” Finn said. But it wasn’t a royal title. “And your daughter and I have grown to care for each other.”
The man pointedly raised his eyebrow again. “I take it Octavia knows you are here?”
“I told her I would travel to see you, and to ask for her hand.” His hands felt clammy and his neckerchief a little too tight, but he refused to fidget. It had been a long time since he’d been nervous like this.
“And is Julius aware of this development?”
“No. Well, I don’t know. Octavia might have told him.”
“So this agreement was done without the knowledge of my son?”
“Yes.”
“And do you think he would approve the match?”
“I expect that he perhaps had hopes for another.”
“And you swooped in and stole her.”
“I’m not sure how much swooping and stealing can be done with Octavia unless she desires it.”
Lord Hennington twisted his head slightly. “That is probably true. And as you came here, I take it you are complicit in this match. To be completely frank, with some, I would perhaps wonder if that were the case. My daughter can be forceful.”
Finn expected the man would probably not appreciate how enthusiastically she embraced the man she wanted.
“I have found that your daughter’s intentions are usually admirable.”
“Ha!” Lord Hennington said. “I do think you might be in love with my daughter.”
“The description is perhaps accurate.”
The man considered him for a while longer. “Octavia would not make an easy wife. Nothing about her has been easy from the day she was born, but she is a sweet girl if one looks close enough.
“Then I will give you my approval, for I will not hear the end of it if I don’t. You may marry my daughter. But if you do not intend on making her happy, then I suggest you cry off. Octavia is relentless when she feels something isn’t right. A man saves himself a world of trouble by choosing an easy wife.”
“But it would be nowhere near as exciting.”
“May you never fall out of love.”
She was the one to always keep him challenged and on his toes. It was his greatest wish to make her happy. He was curious to see how she would grow and change with the years, how she would be as a mother. She would make an excellent mother, and their children wouldn’t be drab creatures, but nourished and cared for. He couldn’t wait to meet them too. These people would be the ones that his life revolved around, the ones he woke up in the morning for and strove to protect. If they were at all like Octavia, it would be a lively house. “I am very excited about the future,” he admitted.
“Then maybe you are the right man for her.”
“Of that I have no doubt.”
“Why don’t you stay for supper? You can make your way back in the morning after a good rest. Octavia can do without you for another day.”
“It would be my pleasure,” Finn replied. Granted, he wanted to rush back to London, but it was a shrewd investment to develop good relationships with her father.
*
Finn went straight to Caius’ house so he could speak to Octavia. She should know at the earliest opportunity that they had her father’s approval.
As the carriage pulled up by the house, he got out and took the steps two at a time until he reached the door. He knocked and waited. The curious one-armed butler answered the door.
“Is Miss Hennington in?” he asked.
“Aye,” the man said brusquely and showed him in.
“Who is it?” a man said.
“Lord Fortescue,” the butler replied, and Caius Hennington came out of his study.
“Fortescue,” he said with surprise.
“I am here to see your sister.”
“Is that so?”
“I am going to marry your sister.”
The man considered him. “You’ll have to get past our father.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Caius,” Octavia said. “Father has always said who I marry will be my choice. Lord Fortescue,” she said with a quick curtsey. Finn watched her as she came down the stairs.
“Well, your father sends his regards.”
“I suppose that saves us from having to elope. Now go away, Caius. I wish to speak with my fiancé without you gawking at me.”
Caius grumbled, but he did as he was asked and returned to his study. “No closed doors!” he ordered.
“Does he expect me to ravage you on his sofa?” Finn asked as Octavia led him into the salon. “Your father suggested I find an easier wife,” he said with a smile, “but I said I couldn’t possibly. It was much too late for me, I am a caught man.”
“You make it sound like a sentence.”
Leaning down, he kissed her. It had felt much too long since he’d tasted her and smelled her lovely hair. Putting his arm around her, he drew her close. The entire trip was worth it, this entire thing was worth it. The injury. It had brought him her and he would do it again if he had to. “The banns have been placed.”
“I suppose we must tell everyone,” she said and he loved that she held him in return. Her cheek was on his chest and they simply stood like that.
“Would you like a grand ball to announce it?” To be honest, at this point, he was happy to never attend a ball again,
but if she wanted one, it would be the grandest ball that ever was.
“No, I think a supper would be nicer. Something smaller where one can hear oneself think. Besides, if I invite some people and not others, it will all get messy.”
“Then a supper it is. Maybe we’ll hire in the chefs from the Savoy.”
“That is actually an excellent idea.”
Chapter 38
WHAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE an intimate supper to announce the engagement turned out to be an evening with about thirty guests. There were simply people who needed to be there. Some of her friends, some of his, and her family. Sadly, Finn didn’t really have anyone to invite. There was a cousin, but he lived in the West Indies.
Still, it was more of an intimate evening with their closest friends. Octavia found no reason to throw a ball for the sake of her engagement. Her social standing had diminished in importance for her utterly. She simply didn’t care now. Obviously, invitations would come and they would accept some, but the competition for social advancement was something she simply couldn’t be bothered with. For some people, it occupied their lives, but Octavia didn’t understand what the prize would be. Power, probably. For herself, she had always coveted the power to do as she pleased. An aim that was too perilous in the heights of social success.
“Rose,” she said with her hands held out when a dear friend arrived with her husband. Most of her friends were married already and busy with children and houses. It had made her friendships more distant and she’d mourned that, but it was the way of things. Now she was marrying and it seemed a common worry amongst her friends would be lifted. “It’s so lovely to see you.” Although she expected her friends had been curious to receive invitations to dine with Lord Fortescue, a man they had never met.
“I take it our invitation is your doing,” Rose said after greetings all round. “Is there a special purpose for this evening?”
Miss Octavia Insists (The Henningtons Book 2) Page 20
