There were twelve guests in total at the Duke’s social drum. Lord and Lady Amberhall were two whom Octavia recognized, and when they had first arrived, both were sure to greet her politely. The other ten, however, were unknown to Octavia, and they made no such efforts to pay her any attention whatsoever.
The night started with supper, hosted in the dining room, each guest was shown to their seat along the table. As Arron was still considered a child, he was seated at the very end, away from the guests. And, as Octavia’s role was to watch over him, she too was seated down at the far end of the table.
For this reason, she was cut off and isolated from the conversation that flowed from the other end of the table. The guests spoke lively, their laughter flowed like waves rolling onto the shore, and while it was loud and easy to hear, Octavia was unable to make out most of it because not only did she not understand half of what was said, but none of it was directed toward her.
So, she sat and ate in silence with Aaron. It was not awkward, because nobody noticed her, but that was not the point.
Octavia had been so sure that the Duke wanted her there because he wanted to show her off, to be with her, to remind her that he desired her and saw her as more than a mere governess.But not once had he spoken to her or tried to pull her into the conversation. In fact, not once since sitting down had he even looked at her!
I could have worn a canvas sack, and it would have made no difference.
“Where is Henry?” Aaron complained. “Why is he not here?”
“I told you this,” she said to Aaron. “Such events as these are not for him. He is upstairs, but you may join him before bed. Only when your father dismisses you.”
“He won’t even notice…” Aaron slunk down in his chair.
She could not help but agree with him and, despite herself, Octavia cast a rueful glare down the table, hoping the Duke would see it. He sat at the very head; he was engaged in conversation with Lord Amberhall, and not once did he notice her at all.
Octavia felt like a darn fool! In her pretty gown, her make-up done up, her hair curled, she had been so certain that tonight would be special. Now, she was forced to question everything that she thought she had known about herself and the Duke.
He did not care about her at all…
Suddenly, everyone started to stand from the table.
“What’s going on?” Aaron perked up. “Is it over?”
“I…” Octavia watched as the guests slowly walked from the room. They were all in deep conversation, none sparing her a glance. “I am not sure.”
She stayed seated, and she indicated for Aaron to do the same.
As she did, she watched the Duke, who pulled away from Lord Amberhall and finally deigned to look in her direction. He did not smile. There was no hunger in his eyes. But there was a command, one which told her to stay seated.
“Miss Finch…” The Duke approached her. “How was everything?”
“It was perfectly fine,” she said stiffly, with a touch of coldness in her voice; it matched the look she held him in. “Thank you again for inviting me.”
Whether he noticed her icy attitude or not, she could not say because as soon as she spoke, the Duke looked away and addressed his son.
“Aaron, you did well tonight,” he said to the boy. “I am proud of you.”
“You are?” Aaron looked at him hopefully.
“I am,” the Duke said. “But the hour is late. My guests and I are about to adjourn to the drawing room for a drink, and it is time for you to go to bed. Miss Finch, if you might see him off?”
She glared at him, and she did not care.
Again, he either did not notice or did not care. He patted his son on the shoulder, stepped around them, and exited the room.
Octavia felt like a fool! She had been so certain…No, Octavia. Do not give him the satisfaction. He only wanted you here to watch over Aaron, and he has made that perfectly clear.
Octavia led Aaron upstairs, and they found Henry in his room, reading. She allowed the two boys to play together for a few moments, during which time she sat on her brother’s bed and steamed silently.
As tragic as Octavia felt, she decided that this was probably for the best. While she had dreamed that something might happen between herself and the Duke, she saw now how futile such a dream was. Not only was she a mere governess, but there was a time limit on her presence in this home. In six months, she would be free to go, and she sensed now more than ever that the Duke would want her to leave when that day finally arrived.
“Master Aaron, it is time for bed,” she said to him.
“But –”
