Page 60 of Managing the Major

Lady Amelia stood, and Octavia followed suit. After exchanging goodbyes, the pleasant afternoon ended.

When she arrived home, Octavia discovered a letter from Alastair waiting on the table in her entrance hall. She sought refuge in the library again, Freya curling up at her feet as she sat in Richard’s big leather chair and broke the seal on the envelope.

My Dear Octavia,

I can’t stop thinking about you, my beautiful Valkyrie—every moment I spend with you only makes me desire you more.

This morning, you offered your passion and trusted me so sweetly; your soft moans and sweet words almost brought me to my knees. I discovered a precious gift that was mine alone. I hope your memories of our day are glorious and that you aren’t embarrassed by what we shared.

I cannot wait to see you tomorrow…the night will last forever.

Yours,

Alastair

*

“Well, you certainly have had an exciting day,” Rafe said, stretching his legs out in front of the fire in Alastair’s drawing room later that evening.

“But I’m glad you told Miss Merrick—dash it all, can’t I just call her Octavia now? Anyhow, she needed to hear the entire story of your past with Lucy. Who in blazes knows what our Lady Crawford might try in the future?”

Alastair took a sip from his glass of brandy, gazing pensively into the fire. “The Lucy I knew as a youth was warm and generous. After learning she had eloped, I assumed she’d been deceived by someone older and more experienced. But this new Lucy is boldly calculating. Octavia believes she orchestrated that entire scene to discredit and shame me in front of her.”

“Lady Crawford’s been through two marriages, and Lord knows what else since you were both eighteen. She was always sweet-natured to us, but there were always rumors flying around about her outside flirtations. I didn’t believe them at the time and never mentioned it, but it can’t hurt to be careful, Alastair. What are your plans since you’re back on good terms with Octavia? Do you contemplate marriage?”

“My feelings for her grow deeper each day, but I honestly don’t know if she’s ready to give up her life of freedom for marriage.”

He regarded the amber liquor thoughtfully before downing the last bit. “Perhaps after the trip to Epsom, I’ll have a better understanding of what she wants. I’m ready to marry her, Rafe, but not without letting her know the full extent of my injuries. How on earth do I make that happen?”

“She’s not a green girl, Alastair, and even you and Lucy petted and played at love, as I remember.”

“I’ve kissed her enough to realize she is completely innocent. The sexual aspects of marriage can be frightening enough to a virgin, let alone being surprised by my scars.”

“Besides, there is the family to consider.” Alastair leaned his head wearily against the cushions. “Her brother is a very protective earl—and a Peer of the Realm. Richard Merrick might not find me an acceptable suitor. Besides, I hoped to broach the subject of the hospital first and gain his financial support for the project. If I’m already engaged to his sister, it puts pressure on everyone.”

“You’ve come too far to be overly concerned about your scars. They aren’t as important as you think.”

“No, Rafe. I won’t have Octavia run away in horror on our wedding night. She deserves to see the man she’s getting.”

Rafe regarded him soberly. “She knows. An upstanding man—one of integrity and courage, who will love and protect her despite being less than perfect. I only wish you would see it.”

The next morning, very early, Alastair sat in his office doing paperwork when a messenger brought a letter. He didn’t recognize the handwriting, but he knew the scent: something fresh and lemony. Octavia. Slitting it open, he read the contents.

My Own Alastair,

It was so difficult to sit demurely at your sister’s during tea yesterday, when all I wanted was to throw my arms around you and feel your lips on mine.

And even later today, I will have to pretend that I feel nothing, with my groom or Mama watching us. It is so difficult not to draw you close, but at least I will have your company.

I am glad I could offer my ‘gift’ to you and only you, and trust I may have the opportunity to solicit that same ‘gift’ from you before long.

Yours,

Octavia

*

When Alastair arrived at Merrick House, precisely at half-past nine, the gate to the stables was unlocked. He entered and scanned the property with the eagerness of a boy in the throes of first love. There was no sign of Octavia, but as he started across the field to the riding area, she came out of the barn, Freya close behind.