Octavia glanced to the sky. “It does not appear as if we are in for rain.”
They had both been soaked to the skin when they visited Hatchard’s.
“I would enjoy the walk,” she finally answered. “Besides, too many people are about and neither of us need speculation of me riding in a hackney, alone, with you.”
It was a pleasant day to walk, which must have been the opinion of half of London as people were out in droves. As he and Octavia were to keep up appearances, whenever someone was passing them, he would ask, “Do you really think I should consider her?” To which Octavia would point out that she was either very pretty or had a pleasant disposition. They also kept their distance from those walking ahead of them, and from anyone walking too close behind so that they could not eavesdrop. Still, they did not risk speaking of anything personal.
Once they arrived at 55 Pall Mall and entered, Angelo stopped to glance about. There were few people visiting, which rather surprised him.
“I was given to believe that this would be a good place to visit in my quest for a future wife.” He made certain that the few people near heard him.
“Apparently it is too fine of a day to be inside,” Octavia responded. “But, as we are here and you insisted that I accompany you, I intend to stroll and look at the paintings.”
Which is exactly what they did. While Octavia paused to admire a painting, Angelo searched for his cousin, who he found sitting and painting a canvas as so many others were doing.
“I’d not realized you were an artist,” he said coming upon her.
Bethany quickly glanced up. “I had not expected to find you here.”
“After you mentioned your destination, I had hoped that other young women would be as well and brought Lady Kepple along to facilitate introductions.”
“I fear you will be sorely disappointed as there are few in attendance.”
“As I can see.”
At least his cousin believed the ruse and he had established a purpose for being in the company of Octavia.
“Enjoy your painting,” he finally said and then led Octavia away.
“What are your plans for this evening?” Angelo asked once they had left the picture gallery and were once again walking back to Bolton Street where Octavia currently resided.
“I am to attend the theatre this evening.”
She said it with such boredom, Angelo assumed that she did not wish to attend.
“I have never been one to enjoy the theatre,” she admitted.
“Then remain at home,” he whispered.
She tilted her chin and looked at him out of the corner of her eye. “What are your plans this evening?”
“That will depend on if you attend the theatre or remain home.”
Her cheeks colored.
“Perhaps we should dine and go over the list of available young ladies and what you hope to find in a wife,” she said loudly.
“Would it help you if we did so.”
“Yes. We could save much time if I knew exactly what you wanted.”
He knew exactly what he wanted tonight, not that he would voice it where so many could hear.
“Then dinner it shall be,” he agreed.
They had just reached the door to her house. “Call at eight Lord Bolton. While we dine, I will take notes and will be better able to determine which miss would be perfect for you.”
“Thank you, Lady Kepple.” He tipped his hat then sauntered away.
