Page 55 of Managing the Major

Octavia struggled to respond to this, deeply affected by all he had achieved in his career and how much he had lost. If she had landed in similar circumstances, would she exhibit the same strength of character? She hoped so. “I’ll fetch some refreshments. Would you like tea, or something more invigorating?”

“A glass of sherry, perhaps?”

“That sounds perfect. And biscuits as well. We keep water in the cistern, and there is a cloth and some towels in my tack room.”

“I hope I might give my regards to your mother before leaving.”

“Lady Amelia is visiting my sister, who’s very close to having her child. Valentina is in some distress, so Mama may not return immediately.”

If he thought it odd that they were alone, he didn’t show any signs of discomfort. “Hopefully, all goes smoothly with your sister. You might care to learn that Sir William Denton is calling in Ovington Square before our tea this afternoon. I have a suspicion he’ll ask for my permission to pay his addresses to Nerissa. But you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you, Octavia?”

She feigned surprise. “Why on earth would I?” and escaped to the house.

After a trip to the kitchen, she rejoined him, carrying a good-sized basket. They sat down at some wrought-iron chairs near the barn, surrounded by a small enclosure of tulips and azalea hedges. Bees buzzed lazily and a few brightly colored butterflies fluttered by in the warm haze of midday sun.

Alastair took out the bottle of sherry and poured two glasses, setting them on the small table. He extracted a folded cloth from the basket and unwrapped a plum cake cut into slices.

They sipped the wine and ate in silence. After wiping his fingers on a napkin, he sat back, closing his eyes with a sigh of contentment. “This is my idea of heaven,” he told her lazily.

She had been thinking the same thing, but merely raised her brows. “After all the places you’ve traveled and the things you must have seen?”

“I love England,” he said simply. “Home is always best.”

“Alastair,” she hesitated to break the contentment of the moment, but it had to be done. “What is between you and Lady Crawford?”

He opened his eyes. “She was Lucy Danbridge to me. Her father’s a neighbor, and Nerissa and I grew up together alongside Lucy and her brother with Rafe, who also lived nearby. The four of us were inseparable until the Royal Military College approved my admission at sixteen. By that time, I was completely in love with Lucy. As beautiful as she is today, she was twice that as a young girl. She could have married extremely well, but her father was not wealthy, and a London Season was out of the question.”

He offered her more wine, but Octavia refused it, totally engrossed in his story. After refilling his own glass, he continued.

“Lucy returned my regard—what a simple word for the overwhelming passion I felt—and I could hardly believe my good fortune.” She envisioned Alastair as a young man, full of bright promise and hope for the future. How she wished she had known him then.

“Our parents approved of the connection, and they agreed to an engagement that summer. I came home to see her four times during the two years I was away, and each time she professed her undying love and nothing but anticipation for our marriage. We planned to purchase a small house with my commission, and I would return to Lewisham between duty assignments. In a few years, I intended to apply for the diplomatic corps, where she could travel with me.”

Octavia experienced a sensation of physical discomfort, knowing how badly things would end for him. She waited while he took a sip of sherry.

“By then, my mother had passed, and her parents planned a ceremony for the Sunday after I finished my training at Sandhurst. We would be married at the church near Fairfax and live in the cottage I had bought to await my commission and first assignment. On the last visit before I graduated, Lucy seemed distant and often anxious, but when I questioned her, she assured me it was nothing and soothed my doubts with kisses.”

He looked lost in the past, his handsome face a study in regret. “I came home on a Friday, and Lucy was gone. Her devastated father informed me she had eloped with a gentleman staying in Fairfax to hunt that fall, leaving only a note. We searched everywhere for her, but it seemed they had left for the continent from Gretna Green. I was beside myself with grief and bewilderment. Then the regiment called. I didn’t want to leave, but my father convinced me to go. For twelve years, I’ve heard nothing of Lucy Danbridge until she appeared at Almack’s, where you met her.”

“You looked upset then, distraught even.”

“Did I? It was a shock; I hadn’t thought of her for a long time.” His eyes refocused, intent now on her. “Octavia, any pain on my part at seeing Lucy was due only to the timing of it—that she might somehow harm what was between us.”

“And what is that, Alastair?” She needed to hear him put it into words.

He gazed past her to where Thor hung his head outside the stall door. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

“Oh.” It was hardly a breath.

“I know. It’s unexpected, and I’m not sure it’s what I want. The complications are…myriad.”

They were both silent for a moment. “Alastair, what exactly happened with Lucy—Lady Crawford—at Lady Willoughby’s? I’m not clear exactly what I witnessed.”

“Oh, God, it was excruciating.” He stood abruptly, as if the urge to move was impossible to ignore. “She said she had never stopped loving me and that she had made a grave mistake marrying someone else. Octavia, I swear to you, that part of my life was in the past—I hadn’t thought of Lucy in years, and I told her just that. But she persisted and even admitted she had only married the viscount to return to England—to me. Her feelings were totally unexpected. When I pushed past her to leave, she threw herself at me, and that’s when you came in. But I am to blame; I should not have stayed a minute or spoken with her at all. But my anger and resentment had resurfaced, and she took it for caring, is all I can suppose.”

He ran his fingers through his hair, obviously upset. “It was stupid of me—and when you came in and witnessed such a sordid scene—I was beside myself. Have I ruined everything by keeping my past with Lucy hidden? Can you believe I want nothing to do with her?”

“Of course, I believe you. Alastair, I wonder if Lady Crawford didn’t orchestrate the entire disaster. Perhaps she guessed you were waiting for me and hoped I’d find you together. She has warned me away from you twice.”