“Nonsense,” her mother declared. “You are always welcome in our home.”
“Thank you,” Octavia said as she sat down next to Anette. A footman promptly placed a cup of chocolate in front of her. “It is nice to have breakfast with other people.”
“Does Roswell not dine with you?” Anette asked.
“Rarely,” Octavia replied. “My mother and father get a tray sent up to their room, and Roswell is not around very often, especially in the mornings.”
“Where is he?” Anette inquired.
“I know not, but he is very good at staying away,” Octavia said. “Sometimes I envy him. At times, I just want to ride far away and leave all my problems behind.”
Compassion shone in Anette’s mother’s eyes. “It will get easier, I promise.”
“I’m not sure how,” Octavia shared. “My mother’s health is deteriorating and I’m not sure if my father can live without my mother by his side.”
“No one can have a burden-free life, but we make the burdens greater when we refuse to accept things as they are,” her mother advised. “You can choose to be happy, even amidst your trials.”
“I wish it were that simple,” Octavia said. “I want to be happy, but I find myself sad more times than not.”
“Life is hard, especially now, but look for the little things in life that give you joy,” her mother encouraged.
Octavia offered Lady Oxley a weak smile. “Thank you, my lady. I needed to hear those words today.”
Her mother returned the smile. “I hope I didn’t preach too much to you.”
“No, you have been most helpful,” Octavia said.
After a footman placed a plate of food in front of Octavia, Anette’s father spoke up. “Our dear Octavia made the Society page, as well.”
“I did?” Octavia asked. “Whatever for?”
“The article is about how you were seen at Vauxhall Gardens last night, being escorted by Caleb,” her father replied.
“Oh, is that all?” Octavia asked. “I do not like being written about in the Society page. Nothing of importance is written there.”
He folded the newssheets and placed them down onto the table. “Most young women enjoy having their names mentioned in the Society page, assuming it is not critical about them.”
“Well, I am not like most young women,” Octavia said.
“Neither am I,” Anette remarked.
Octavia laughed. “That is why we are such good friends. We are the black sheep of theton.”
“You are no such thing,” Anette’s mother declared. “You two are lovely young women who will make excellent matches soon enough.”
“I doubt that since I am not to leave the townhouse for the foreseeable future,” Anette said.
Shifting in her seat, Octavia asked, “I was wondering if you would want a guard peacock for your garden.”
“A guard peacock?” Anette repeated.
“Yes, it will guard your garden from any unwanted guests,” Octavia said. “Or me.”
Anette grinned. “How would you get your peacock to our townhouse?”
“I would have to put a leash on it, and walk it over here,” Octavia reasoned. “Perhaps that would make the Society page.”
Her mother waved a hand in front of her. “A peacock on a leash?” she asked. “I have never heard of anything so ludicrous.”
