Page 89 of Managing the Major

“The best lady rider in London.” Baronet Whitefall raised his glass in her direction.

“And I’m sure he enjoys a close friendship with your brother, the Earl of Seldon, as well. After all, they are partners.” Her expression was most definitely that of a cat who has cornered all the cream. Octavia felt a chilly sense of foreboding.

“Partners, eh?” The baronet set down his wineglass, sloshing some of the wine on the tablecloth. “Partners in what?”

“Perhaps Lord Ehnes can explain better than I. It’s no secret—why, everyone knows of Major Fairfax’s plans,” she tittered.

How could there be a partnership between Richard and Alastair that she didn’t know about? Octavia struggled to remember if either of them had mentioned it at Epsom but could recall nothing. She looked over at Genevieve, whose face reflected boredom rather than surprise. Did her best friend know something and was keeping it secret?

“You must be referring to Major Fairfax’s hospital,” Lord Ehnes said. “Yes, I suppose it’s common knowledge now. These things have a way of getting out.”

Major Fairfax’s hospital? What on earth were they referring to, and how did she not know about this? Octavia schooled her face into polite indifference despite a wave of nausea.

“That’s correct; the major’s plan to build an infirmary for injured soldiers.” Lady Crawford smiled sweetly. “He and I have discussed it often. It’s his lifelong dream, you see, shared only with close friends. Major Alastair is overjoyed that with donors like Lord Ehnes and the earl—and my crucial contribution, of course—the project will soon be a reality. Why, Lord Hope is taking part as well, isn’t he, Lady Hope?”

“Yes, he is. It’s a fine undertaking.” Genevieve gave Octavia an uncertain look, sensing something wasn’t right. Octavia’s breathing felt constricted, and her hand involuntarily went to her throat. When had Alastair and Lady Crawford spoken? He had been adamant that he wanted nothing to do with her ever again.

“Major Alastair’s fine idea would never have come to fruition without your brother at the helm, Miss Merrick,” Lord Ehnes said kindly. “They’ve put much time and energy into the plans.”

“Why, Miss Merrick, you’re looking a bit green about the gills,” Baronet Whitefall noticed. “Are you unwell?”

Genevieve rose from her chair. “Octavia—”

She struggled to her feet, lightheaded and thoroughly embarrassed at her ignorance of anything they mentioned: A hospital? Alastair and her brother in a partnership? “Excuse me, I need to—” The floor seemed to tilt under her feet.

“Is anything amiss?” Countess Lieven came over to the table, frowning at the disturbance which had more than one guest looking in their direction.

“I must apologize, Countess,” Genevieve explained, taking Octavia’s arm. “But Miss Merrick is feeling unwell. I think I’ll take her home; my carriage is outside.”

“Perhaps that would be best. Baron Whitefall, you might accompany—”

“No—” Octavia managed to blurt out. And wished she hadn’t, as five pairs of eyes turned to look at her.

“We can manage, but thank you, Countess Lieven,” Genevieve said. “Again, our deepest apologies.”

As she managed an unsteady walk beside Genevieve to the front door of the embassy, Octavia could not dispel the image of Lucy Crawford’s face, watching every embarrassing moment triumphantly.

Chapter Thirty-Five

An Unfortunate Ride in Hyde Park

What the devil was wrong with Octavia? She had scarcely spoken a word to him since he walked in the gate at Merrick House; she wouldn’t look at him, or meet his eyes. The black-clad figure astride Sigrun sat ramrod straight, looking quite flawless and utterly unapproachable.

It was near eleven o’clock in Hyde Park, and they had just passed the statue of Achilles on the way to Rotten Row. There were a scattering of riders and a vast number of curricles and phaetons for the time of day, but then it was a fine day, and being the end of May, the Season was coming into full swing.

Since meeting Octavia Merrick, his life had changed so dramatically that he could scarcely believe it. Sunday, they would celebrate Abigail’s engagement (even that news hadn’t stirred Octavia from her taciturn mood), Nerissa expected a marriage proposal from Sir William by the end of the Season, and here he was, about to ask Octavia Merrick to marry him. The ring was in his pocket, and he had a pretty speech prepared.

Not to mention, here he was sitting on a horse again after five years, walking without a limp and with partial use of his left arm. And sexual congress with the woman beside him had proved not just possible, but gloriously fulfilling and utterly life-changing. Not a bad seven months at all.

Now, if he could only find out why the love of his life refused to look at him, although she had smiled easily enough at two acquaintances they had stopped to greet. Peter followed at a discreet distance in the phaeton, since there was no third horse to ride. Perhaps the reminder of Lucifer’s passing had Octavia in a blue mood; of course, that must be it. Today was her first ride in the park without her beloved stallion.

Yesterday, Richard had mentioned that he had a horse coming in from Ireland for Octavia’s birthday in two weeks. Perhaps that would divert her enough to dull the memories that still plagued her at times.

“Shall we try a canter?” he suggested as they turned onto Rotten Row. She nodded and touched Sigrun’s side with her spur to canter off. He followed, and he wouldn’t be honest if he didn’t feel a bit of nerves for his first canter in Hyde Park after years of inactivity. However, Thor, steady as always, settled into an easy gait, and they held it for nearly a quarter of a mile before Octavia came back to the trot, and then to the walk.

He expected she would congratulate him with enthusiasm, but she merely gave a tight smile and a ‘well done.’ The halfway point was coming up, and he was planning to ask Octavia at the flowering chestnut tree, so it was imperative to put her in a better mood.

“I haven’t had the chance to ask how you enjoyed Countess Lieven’s dinner party last night. Did you stay very late?” Perhaps she was tired, and that was the reason for her reticence. He was entirely surprised when she stopped her horse and turned to him, her blue-gray eyes blazing.