Page 73 of Managing the Major

“I will turn thirty-two in June, if you must know.”

“And I’m the shocking age of five-and-twenty. Neither of us has the first bloom of youth, I fear.”

Marie had closed her book. He sighed; their forthright conversations pleased him intensely. “We should probably return. The others will wonder where we are.”

He reluctantly released her hand, but she stopped him from rising, resting it on his sleeve. “You asked me about a perfect life. Don’t you want my answer, Alastair?”

He bent and pressed his lips to her hand; the maid be damned. “What, my Valkyrie?”

A rosy tint colored her cheeks; whether from his kiss or what she had to say, he wasn’t certain. “When Genevieve and I visited you at Fairfax, that was perfection—staying with you at your lovely home.”

Before he could reply, Marie stood up. “Miss Octavia, it’s time to start back. Breakfast will be waiting.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

The Match Race at Epsom Downs

“What do you mean you were too honest with Alastair, Octavia?” They strolled on the edge of the training yard, Genevieve twirling a parasol that matched her patterned gown.

“I confessed how restless I’ve been lately, blaming it on the constraints of society, or feeling on display, or what everyone expects from me—but it’s so confusing. I don’t feel that way all the time, Genevieve. Perhaps I spoke too soon.”

“I have a theory, but first you have to tell me everything.”

“B-but I have.” It sounded like a weak denial even to her ears.

“You finally confessed that you two kissed. But I know from experience that those things usually escalate. What else has happened?”

Octavia looked pointedly at the surrounding activity. “I can’t tell you here!”

The horses in the race had arrived a few hours before and waited in the Rubbing House amid a beehive of activity in the yard. The owners, including Richard, stood on the side, conferring with their trainers and handlers before the horses were to be groomed and tacked.

Alastair had come early with Richard to meet Firefox, but Octavia decided to stay behind and travel with Genevieve and Evan in their phaeton.

“Let’s go to the grandstand,” Genevieve suggested. “Richard has contracted a private room. The attendance today is rather unexpected, but trust your brother to turn anything into an event. Evan says both White’s and Brooks’s have betting logs.”

There was a steady parade of curricles, phaetons, and carriages coming into the grounds as they walked to the newly built structure positioned at the final straight.

“If you must know, in the stables at Merrick, we did more than kiss.”

“Remember, I’m a married woman.” Genevieve waited expectantly to hear the rest, and Octavia felt her face redden. “Evan and I managed to steal much more than polite kisses before the ceremony.”

“Really? I thought…well, I mean, I didn’t know…”

“Well, it’s difficult to resist intimacy when you care for someone. So you and Alastair know far more about each other, but without sexual congress—”

“Shhh, Genevieve!”

“I can’t believe you don’t see what’s happening, Octavia. When you’re unsettled or dissatisfied at certain times, is Alastair there?”

“That’s just it—I’m perfectly happy when we’re together. Everything is just…better.”

Genevieve shook her head. “For an intelligent woman, you are being remarkably obtuse. You’re in love, silly. And once you find that special person and exchange hearts, it connects you. Everything else takes second place. Things are just less interesting, less exciting without them, even if you were content before.”

They reached the grandstands and stood outside as Octavia stared at Genevieve. “Of course, that’s it exactly. But the only cure for love is marriage. I won’t become Alastair’s mistress, and we can’t go on like this indefinitely—sometimes, it’s just unbearable how much I want to hold him and…more than that.”

“Marriage isn’t a terrible thing,” Genevieve laughed. “It gives you permission to spend unlimited time with your lover and indulge in all the intimacies you desire. You can still do other things, and you’ll find there’s a wonderful freedom from the scrutiny you endured as an unmarried lady. It’s quite an adventure, really—discovering everything about the person you care for. And with men like Evan and Alastair, when you’re tired of company, you just…” she shrugged. “Go find something diverting to do for a while. It isn’t long before you’re ready to be close again.”

Octavia slowly ascended the stairs into the grandstand, digesting Genevieve’s words. She stood looking across at the finish line of the race when she saw Alastair crossing the turf to join them. Her heart beat faster at the sight of him, tall and broad-shouldered, standing out from the other men with his thick blond hair and handsome features.