“Good,” William said. “Lady Octavia would make a fine wife for you.”
“You have no objections?”
William shrugged. “I have many, but I doubt it would change your mind. I just hope Lady Octavia brings you the happiness you deserve.”
There was a sadness to his brother’s voice that was undeniable, prompting Harred to say, “You deserve to be happy, too.”
“No, I don’t,” William responded. “That ship sailed long ago.”
“It isn’t too late to hope for happiness.”
William looked at him with disbelief. “Since when did you get so sappy?” he asked. “I take it that this is Lady Octavia’s influence.”
“Lady Octavia has opened my eyes to many things,” Harred admitted.
His brother’s shoulders slumped. “Any chance of happiness for me fled the moment I killed Mr. Carswell. Now I have a lifetime to live with what I did, and it is pure misery.”
Unsure of what to say, Harred remained quiet. He was at a loss for words. He wanted to cheer his brother up, but he knew that advice would fall upon deaf ears.
“Am I free to leave?” William asked.
“You always had a choice in the matter,” Harred replied.
William straightened himself to his full height. “Did I?” he asked. “If you will excuse me, I have a wife that I must woo.”
“For what it is worth, I find it admirable that you are caring for Mrs. Carswell and her children,” Harred said.
“Thank you, but it is the least I can do.”
“Does Ruth know?”
William shook his head. “No, and you are not going to be the person that will tell her. It is my business and I expect you to stay out of it.”
“I think that is a mistake—”
His brother cut him off. “I did not ask for your opinion, did I?”
Harred opened his mouth to argue his point but his brother departed from the study without saying another word. Would William ever learn? No good would come from keeping secrets from his wife, or anyone, for that matter.
Octavia was hiding. She knew she should be with her mother, but she didn’t think she could take the heartache of not being remembered again. So she sat in the drawing room- like a coward- and attempted to work on her needlework, buther heart wasn’t in it. The only noise came from Mrs. Harper, who was snoring softly.
She looked up at the ceiling as she reminded herself that her mother’s mind was slipping, and it wasn’t her fault. But this was her mother. Her whole world. And she couldn’t stand the thought that her mother didn’t remember her.
Her brother stepped into the room and eyed her with concern. “Why are you hiding in the drawing room?”
“I am not hiding,” she lied. “I am working on my needlework.”
“Mother is asking for you.”
Octavia perked up. “Mother remembers me?” she asked.
Fredrick approached her and sat down on the settee next to her. “I can’t help but notice that you have been avoiding her since yesterday.”
She lowered her gaze. “Was it so obvious?”
“It was to me, but I understand why it is.”
“You do?” she asked, bringing her gaze back up.
