Page 90 of His Duchess to Remember

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

The journey to Dorset was surprisingly comfortable, thanks to the companionship of Evelyn, who had decided to travel with her sister-in-law. Meanwhile, Hugo and Malcolm were outside the carriage on horseback, both deciding that they would rather ride than suffer the suffocating interior for such a long journey.

“Do you think Selina will have received my letter in time?” Octavia asked, her nerves rising the closer they got to their final destination.

Evelyn chuckled. “Even if she did not, dear Octavia, I will be happy to share a room with you.”

“But what about Malcolm?”

“He can share with Hugo.” Evelyn flashed a mischievous grin. “Now that your husband has decided to stay at Huntfield, it will be a good opportunity for him and Hugo to get to know one another better.”

Octavia did not know what Malcolm would make of such an arrangement, but it served to calm her somewhat.

“Although,” Evelyn said in a pointed tone, “it would not be the first time that you and Malcolm have shared a bedchamber. Perhaps, this could be a good opportunity for the two of you to get to know one another better.”

Octavia’s stomach twisted into knots. “No. No, I do not think so.”

“So, is he to remain at the Dower House indefinitely?” Evelyn smiled sympathetically. “Is there no hope of him being forgiven?”

“I do not know,” Octavia said, turning her gaze out of the window.

The sparkling sea stretched out to the horizon, gulls wheeling and squawking, fishing boats sculling by in the distance, the late afternoon sky transforming the world into a hazy dream.

“If you have asked him to come to this ball with you, that must be progress?” Evelyn pressed, making the inside of the carriage seem all the more smothering.

“Evie, please,” Octavia rasped, her hand pressed to her chest.

“Apologies, Octavia. Apologies. I am getting carried away,” Evelyn said. “It is just that… I have always wanted you to be as happy as your brother and I are. It did not seem possible before, but now? Anyway, I shall say nothing more. Forgive me.”

Octavia cast her sister-in-law a sideways glance. “Thank you.”

Just then, the manor came into view, rising up from the edge of the cliff. A majestic building of golden sandstone that gleamed in the rich sunlight, sitting alone on that promontory.

Well, I suppose that means it is too late to turn around and go home.

Octavia had disappeared with Evelyn the second that the carriage had arrived at the cliffside manor, while Malcolm had been shown to a rather charming bedchamber in the west wing that directly overlooked the sea.

He did not quite know what to do with himself, other than to sit and enjoy the view and several cups of tea while he waited for the ball to begin. He could hear the buzz of activity going on throughout the lower levels of the house, and figured he would indeed be of the most use by staying out of the way.

As the clock on the mantelpiece ticked toward the official start of the ball, however, he dressed quickly in the clothes he had brought and headed out in search of his wife.

“There ye are,” he said, spotting her on the landing.

Octavia turned in surprise… and promptly took his breath away.

She wore a most unusual gown, a fine veil of bluish-green muslin layered over whatever was beneath. The fabric looked almost liquid as she moved, making him think of ancient water goddesses; she was so ethereal, standing there in the low light, in that remarkable gown.

“I hope ye weren’t thinking of heading downstairs without me.” He offered his arm, and gave a nod to Evelyn and Hugo, who had just appeared from their room.

Octavia’s throat bobbed as she took the proffered arm. “Not at all. I was just waiting for my escort.”

“Well, here I am.” He smiled down at her. “I doubt there has ever been a lass more beautiful than ye, Octavia.”

Her cheeks pinkened. “You should not say such things.”

“Why nae?” he countered, deciding to be bold. “I thought ye wanted me to be honest from now on.”

Her eyes narrowed, and he realized he might have miscalculated.