Thy spiritdeceive.
—Byron,“When We Two Parted”
Ottilie vacated herfour-poster bed as soon as the sun’s rays filtered into her room. She padded across the pale blue rug, feeling its softness beneath her feet, and pushed aside the silvery drapes to welcome daylight. Lady Hudsyn’s dire warnings had plagued her all night and left her feeling restless.Did he declare you were his muse? Did he charm you with tender words and poetry?The accuracy of her aunt’s words made her uncomfortable. Yet she could not believe her experiences with Jack had been a lie. She was no child. She knew in her heart he was sincere.
You think him different, an exception to the rule, but I can assure you he is not. Love is a fairytale, my dear. The best thing to do is secure your future by marrying well.
“You’re awake, miss?” Ottilie turned to see Eliza enter the room with the morning tea.
“Yes, the day is too lovely to waste time lounging in bed. Is my cousin downstairs yet?”
“His Lordship is breakfasting in the dining room. But he will be leaving shortly for an early morning ride.”
“That is exactly what I need.” Ottilie’s spirits rose. “Can you inform him I wish to accompany him?”
“Certainly, miss.” Eliza placed the teacup on a small side table. “I’ll go down directly and tell Benson. And I’ll be back to help you into your riding habit,” Eliza promised as she vacated the bedroom.
Twenty minutes later, Ottilie ventured downstairs wearing a pale blue riding habit, complete with a feathered hat, gloves, and a riding crop. The outfit was one of two Henry had gifted her the previous year.
“Good morning, cousin.” Henry looked up from his plate when Ottilie entered the dining room. “I am pleased you will be joining me this morning. I contemplated asking Eliza to wake you, but I thought it unfair. I know how much you enjoy a late morning.”
“I’m afraid I did not sleep well last night.” Ottilie moved to the table and poured herself a cup of tea. “I seem to be consumed by restless energy.”
“A ride will do you good then. It should be interesting to say the least. Bastin sent me an invitation early this morning to join him on Rotten Row.”
“Mr. Bastin? I didn’t realize—what I mean to say is, I don’t want to impose on your outing.”
“It wouldn’t be an imposition. I understand there will be a party of us.”
Ottilie blinked.A riding party? Why did Jack not extend the invitation to me as well as Henry? Did he not want me to accompany them?
“Are you going to sit down and eat something?” Henry asked. “We’re to meet our party in thirty minutes.”
A footman stepped forward and pulled out a chair for Ottilie. She slid into her seat and reached for the sugar bowl, paused mid-air, then redirected her hand to the honey. Perhaps Jack is wise to be cautious, she thought, as she brought the honey jar to rest next to her teacup.After all, he probably knew Henry would invite me along for the ride, and it is far better to be prudent and avoid arousing suspicion.She scooped a spoonful of honey from the jar and drizzled it into her cup.
“What on earth are you doing?” Henry asked.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she said.
“Are you talking about the honey?”
“It’s like a river of sunshine. No wonder it is food fit for the gods.”
“A rather poetic sentiment coming from a mathematician.”
“Perhaps you underestimate mathematicians.” Ottilie stirred the honey into her tea and added a dash of cream.
“Perhaps.” Henry gave her a sidelong glance.
Ottilie sipped her tea and smiled. The honey added a sweet, floral hint to her cup, which reminded her of Jack’s kiss.
“What are you smiling about?” Henry asked, a curious lilt present in his tone.
“Am I smiling? I didn’t realize.”
“You’re acting rather peculiar this morning.”
“Perhaps, I’m happy to have you home. Is that so strange?”
