When rejected, Angelo never had any difficulty in forgetting and moving on. But as he stared at her from behind, he also knew that where Octavia was concerned, such would be impossible as each encounter made him desire her more.
Chapter 9
The Earl of Bolton was persistent, yet Octavia could not understand why. Given what she knew of his reputation, he had no difficulty in finding a lover, yet he was paying attention to her.
Was it because she had rejected him?
That must be it. Confident gentlemen did not like to be rebuffed and she may be the first to have ever refused Bolton.
That did not mean that she did not want him.
Goodness, when he said her name yesterday—quiet, whispered, and warm—a chill had run down her spine and the queerest sensation fluttered through her body. It took her but a moment to realize that it was longing and desire because it had been so long since she’d experienced such. Long ago, it had been her husband, but in time, his attempted seductions felt empty and when she learned of his mistresses, there was nothing he could have done to make her want him again. That was when their intimacy became only for a child—a duty.
Bolton was not her husband, she well knew. In fact, the earl had been more honest in their few conversations than her deceased husband probably had ever been.
However, today they had appeared in the newssheets again. So long as the ton was watching, Octavia could not encourage him to be her lover. Besides, she may desire him as she had no other gentleman in recent history, she also wasn’t certain he was the safest option.
Except safe did not lead to excitement and passion, which is what she truly craved, and she had no doubt that Bolton would be passionate. He practically exuded it in their brief conversations. What would it be like if he unleashed it on her?
Would she recover?
“Is there anything you wish to purchase today, Octavia?”
She was pulled out of her musings by Sabina as they entered the Soho Bazaar.
This would be her sister’s first visit, which meant they were likely to be here for a good amount of time as she explored every available vendor.
“I have nothing specific in mind,” she answered.
“I wish to look at laces, booksellers, shawls, hats…” Sabina paused as she took in the length of the former warehouse.
“We should stay together and not get lost,” Lavinia warned. “There is enough time for us to wander and stop if there are items that you wish to give a closer inspection.”
“They have everything,” Sabina said in quiet wonderment.
Octavia walked slowly as her sisters took in each vendor with Lavinia at their side cautioning about making unnecessary purchases.
She’d visited twice, not long after it first opened, and before her family had fled London following her brother’s attempted murder of Mr. MacGregor.
“Pastry cooks!” Aurora exclaimed with excitement.
“When we have finished shopping, we shall return to take some delicacies home,” Lavinia nearly ordered, mothering the younger two.
While her sisters wandered over to a work trunk maker, something Lavinia was interested in purchasing, Octavia took a moment to visit the Chemist & Apothecary. With a quick look over her shoulder, she noted that all three of her sisters were engaged in the various work trunks, she requested a bottle of Spirit of Lavender.
After making the purchase, Octavia quickly slipped the bottle into her reticule. When she turned, her eyes met those of the Earl of Bolton, which were full of concern, brow slightly furrowed, the rest of his face somber.
She did not wish to explain her purchase to anyone and as much as she could hope that he would go away, she knew that he would not.
Why was he even here? Didn’t lords shop along Piccadilly, Saville Row, St. James and the like?
Except, she was a lady, sister to a duke and she was here. Further, they were not the only titled family strolling through the bazaar. Titled mingled with common, all making necessary or desired purchases.
Octavia stepped to join her sisters before they noted her absence only to be stopped when Lord Bolton blocked her path.
“Is all well, Lady Kepple?” he asked quietly.
“Yes, Lord Bolton.”
