Page 36 of His Duchess to Remember

She’s been hurt before. It won’t be so easy to win her trust, he told himself, as they came back to their starting positions and the music began to slow to its conclusion.

He bowed to her, and she curtseyed, and when the music ended, he took her hand and wove it through his arm. After all, he was a Scotsman, and Scotsmen did not give up easily.

“Well, he is not at all what I expected,” Frances said, with a nod toward Malcolm.

He had wandered off with Dominic and Laurence to seek refreshments for the ladies, but they had been apprehended by a group of older, talkative gentlemen on the way back.

“I remember Dominic returning from the wedding,” Frances continued, “and he was not at all complimentary about the man. Said he was cold and seemed utterly dismissive of the entire thing, which, coming from him, is saying something.”

Octavia rested a hand upon her stomach, her chest tight for reasons she could not explain. She had not been able to take a proper breath since the end of the dance.

Why do I keep telling him things? What on earth possessed me to tell him that I once thought I was in love with Laurence? She could have smacked herself for that. It had, perhaps, been an attempt to tease him, but why did she want to tease him?

She was not supposed to be engaging much with him at all, beyond the boundaries of parenthood.

“I confess, I am surprised too,” Joan said. “He is very charming, and he seems exceptionally fond of you, Octavia.”

“I would not say that,” Octavia protested, her throat tight.

“But he is, Octavia,” Frances urged. “It is clear as day that he is fond of you. No one looks at their wife the way he looks at you unless they are quite besotted.”

Joan nodded. “Which rather begs the question of why he has been living apart from you for so long. Did he not say that he is where he wants to be now?”

All hopes of making it out of the ball without anyone finding out about Malcolm’s affliction were dwindling fast. Her friends were suspicious; she could sense it in their curious glances and probing tone of voice.

“He is… quite changed, I will admit,” she said cautiously. “It will not last. He will be called away to Scotland again, and I will go back to attending these events on my own.”

“Why has he changed, though?” Frances pressed. “Dominic is usually a good judge of character, and even he is surprised by the change. He said before that he hardly recognizes your husband as the one who was standing at the altar at your wedding.”

Octavia shifted awkwardly. “It is a long story. I shall tell you about it another time.”

It was not that she did not trust Joan and Frances—she did—but there were too many people standing nearby, and she could not risk news spreading that the Duke of Highcastle was suffering from amnesia.

He was well-known in the realm of business; his fortune earned just as much as it had been inherited. People might take advantage if they learned he had forgotten the past decade of his life. He would not know if people were lying about knowing him or not, and she would not be able to help, for she did not know either.

“Is all well?” Concern colored Frances’ voice.

Octavia put on a smile. “Oh yes, quite well.”

“Are you happy about the change in him?” Joan said, with a knowing smile. “He really does seem to adore you.”

“I am just glad that Simon is happy,” Octavia said firmly. “The rest is unimportant.”

The rest is not real.

“Octavia, are you sure everything is well?” Frances said.

Flustered, sweat prickling the back of her neck, Octavia nodded effusively. “I am sure. Now, if you will excuse me.”

She hurried off before either of them could stop her, retracing her steps along the wide hallway to the entrance hall. A cool breeze drifted in through the open front doors, and she rushed toward it, sucking in a deep breath as she stumbled out onto the porch.

Not wanting anyone to see her, she slipped down the side of the house until she came to a stone bench. There, she sat, her head in her hands, wondering why she had accepted the invitation to this ball. She had known there would be an interrogation.

And the two people I wanted to see are not here.

Evelyn and Hugo were, apparently, busy tonight.

“Octavia?”