Page 84 of His Duchess to Remember

“I love her, Anthony,” he said, a smile curving his lips as his heart thudded wildly. “Octavia. I love her, and I want her back. I want my family back.”

Anthony blinked in astonishment. “You were gone for fifteen minutes.”

“Sometimes, my good man, that is all it takes to realize what a fool ye’ve been.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

“You should not be worrying about me. I should be worrying about you,” Octavia said with a dry laugh.

Evelyn sat opposite in the library, morning sunshine casting a glow upon the two women, while a low fire popped and smoldered in the grate. It had been a rather chilly morning, a rehearsal of the autumn that would soon be upon them.

“Nonsense. I do not need anyone fussing over me,” Evelyn protested, smiling. “I have enough of that from your brother. If he thought I would oblige, he would see to it that I was confined to my bed until the child is born.”

“What has the doctor said?” Octavia asked.

Evelyn shrugged. “That I should not exert myself, but that I am perfectly able to go about my daily business. And yes, that includes coming to see how my dear sister-in-law is faring.”

“I am quite well,” Octavia insisted. “Truly. It was… an adjustment, but I am getting used to it just being Simon and me again. That is true of any visitor, I think; it takes time for things to return to how they were.”

Evelyn shuffled forward to pour herself some more tea. “Perhaps that is true, but not every visitor is one’s estranged husband.” She paused. “And certainly not every visitor is someone you were falling in love with.”

“I do not even know if I was,” Octavia argued mildly. “I think it was a trick of proximity, and of his injury. He was there, he was uncharacteristically sweet and charming, he was the sort of man I might have dreamed about when I was a young girl, and… there was, of course, our brief, shared history. I got confused, that is all.”

After Malcolm’s departure, she had explained everything to her brother and sister-in-law about the betrayal. They had been shocked to hear of it, but not nearly as critical as Octavia was.

“But you seemed so besotted with him when you came to dine with us,” Evelyn pointed out. “He was not the forgetful version of himself then.”

“No, but he was pretending to be,” Octavia countered.

Scrunching her mouth, her head tilted to one side, Evelyn fixed her sister-in-law with an assessing stare. “Do you really believe that is true? Or do you think it might be possible that he was being himself? You have said it yourself; you had no opportunity to get to know him before. What if the man he was in those two weeks, when he withheld the truth was the most honest version of him?”

She took a pointed sip of her tea.

Meanwhile, the idea alone made Octavia’s head spin, confusing her all the more.

“I cannot be with him if I cannot trust him, Evie,” she said brusquely. “Anyway, it does not matter now. He has gone back to Highcastle, I am readjusting well, and all will seem normal again soon.”

Evelyn sighed and sat back against the settee. “And what of Simon? Is he readjusting?”

“He will.” Octavia reached for a cake to distract herself, and bit into it as if it had insulted her personally. “Children are resilient. Besides, what am I to do? Write to Malcolm and beg him to come back? No. He has made his choice and… it is what I wanted.”

“It is what you wanted when you were four-and-twenty and terrified of gentlemen,” Evelyn said, her tone sisterly. “But you are allowed to change what you want, my dearest Octavia.”

It was not in Octavia’s nature to ask someone to leave, least of all a friend and member of the family, but this was all becoming a bit too much. She struggled enough when she was alone, contemplating what might have been; she did not need Evelyn to sit there and make things worse.

Evelyn must have realized that she was pushing a little too hard, as she set her cup and saucer down and offered a sympathetic smile. “I saw Simon as I came down the driveway,” she said. “His riding is coming along very well.”

Octavia exhaled a small sigh of relief. “It is, though it still fills me with anxiety. I am always fretting that he might fall.”

“He will not fall far from that pony.”

“No… No, it was… well chosen,” Octavia croaked.

The sandy-colored Shetland pony had arrived just a few days ago and had already won the hearts of everyone at Huntfield House. A mischievous little thing with a tufty white mane and stocky legs, Simon had fallen in love instantly, naming his new mount ‘Caterpillar.’ As if he, perhaps, hoped that the pony might one day transform into a mighty stallion like his father’s horse.

“Nevertheless, I do fear that the creature has a stubborn mind of his own,” she added, laughing tightly.

“Are we referring to the pony or your son?” Evelyn chuckled.