Still, that didn’t mean Octavia wasn’t heartsick; so much so that she was making herself ill. This was not supposed to have happened when she decided that she wanted a rake for the Season.
She took a sip of her tepid tea and rested her head against the chair, willing her stomach to settle.
What she really wanted to do was just stay in and not leave the house until all of London returned to the country, but that option wasn’t available to her.
She had never been heartsick before. Not even after she had learned of her husband's mistress when they had not even been wed a year.
Octavia opened her eyes and sat up. This would not do!
She must get over these inconvenient emotions. Wallowing in self-pity, so much so that she was making herself ill, would do no good as nothing was going to change.
With those thoughts, Octavia stood, marched to her chamber and chose her favorite ballgown. Tonight, she would enjoy herself and she would dance, if anyone asked. Further, she would not look for Angelo and if by chance saw him, she would look away. If they did make eye contact, she would nod and smile and that was all.
That plan, in fact, worked very well until late in the evening—right before the supper waltz.
Octavia stood with Leopold as a country dance was concluded. Angelo was dancing with Lady Briana Delaney and her sisters were also participating in the dance. As the music came to an end, Lord Patrick Delaney, Lady Briana's older brother, approached Leopold. Octavia did not even listen to what they were discussing as her heart hammered in her chest.
Yes, she’d had short, polite conversations, but she had not been prepared to speak with him tonight and he was leading Lady Briana straight to her brother, which would put them standing with her and Leopold. She quickly glanced around to find an escape, but it was impossible, so she had no other choice but to stand there. When the couple joined them, pleasantries were exchanged and then the first strains of the waltz began. Lady Briana's next partner approached, and she walked off with him leaving Octavia standing with Leopold, Lord Patrick, and Angelo.
Angelo offered his arm.
She simply stared at it.
“Do you still not waltz, my lady?"
She would give anything to be in his arms but feared she would not be able to mask her emotions well enough and all of society would know that she was in love with Angelo.
"No. I do not."
"Then perhaps a turn about the room."
She frowned, wondering what he was about and debated if she should accompany him or not.
"We have not spoken since you decided that I no longer needed your assistance."
That was said loud enough that those who were near clearly heard him, and she did appreciate the statement. After they had not been seen in each other's company for a few days, Society had speculated, as had the gossips, until they realized that Angelo was spending time in the company of a few selected misses.
“Do you not wish to know how matters have progressed?” he asked.
Angelo still held his arm out, waiting for Octavia to place her hand on his sleeve. If she didn't do so quickly, tomorrow's newssheets would print speculation that they were arguing or that Octavia was displeased with him.
Angelo began to wonder if she would join him and felt the fool for holding his arm out to her for so long. It was not wise to walk with her, but he needed to hear her voice and have her near. She was also wiser because she had refused the waltz.
He didn’t know what made him ask her to dance, but had he been able to hold her in his arms, he would have wanted to waltz right out of the ballroom, onto the terrace and then disappear.
He missed her so much that he ached with it.
If only their situation could be different. If only she could be his, but she no longer wished to have anything to do with him, if her cool reception was any indication.
Had she ever really cared?
Yes, he answered. They had been friends and lovers, she simply hadn’t fallen in love and continued on without him.
Then she raised her hand and placed it on his sleeve.
He was worried about her. In the past sennight when he had seen her out, she’d been pale, her eyes dull, as if she did not feel well, and it concerned him.
“How have you been?” he asked as they walked away from her brother.
