When their eyes met, she said in a teasing voice, “Really, Harred, if you didn’t want to dance with me, you should have just said so.”
Harred couldn’t quite believe that Octavia was making a joke at a time like this but he appreciated her sense of humor even more.
Fredrick rushed out of the ballroom and his eyes grewwide when they landed on the broken planter. “What in the blazes happened?” he demanded.
Rising, Harred replied, “I daresay that it is fairly obvious. A planter nearly killed us.”
Looking towards the direction of the balcony above them, Fredrick said, “I do not think this was an accident, given the circumstances from yesterday.”
“Neither do I,” Harred replied.
Fredrick waved his hand towards his sister. “We need to depart before anyone else comes to investigate the noise,” he said. “The music from the orchestra muffled the noise, but I don’t want to take any chances.”
Octavia remained rooted in her spot. “But Harred and I were going to dance the next set.”
In a firm, unwavering voice, Fredrick pointed out, “The bottom of your dress is ripped. I would imagine that happened when Harred pushed you out of the way. We can’t let anyone see your gown in this state or it could cause a scandal.”
“Oh, I hadn’t realized,” Octavia murmured as she inspected her gown.
Fredrick approached his sister and said, “We shall depart out the back gate.”
Harred watched their retreating figures before he headed into the ballroom. He spotted his brother by the refreshment table and Ruth was looking decisively unsure of herself as she remained close to her husband.
When their gazes met, William raised his glass up but his eyes held a coldness to them that Harred hadn’t seen before.
Could his brother have been behind the broken planter? He didn’t want to suspect William, but he couldn’t overlook what was right in front of him. Besides, who else had anything to gain if he died?
Octavia enjoyed the wind on her face as she raced her horse through the fields of Hyde Park. She didn’t ever want to slow down. For once she did, she knew that Fredrick would chide her for riding her horse too fast. But that didn’t deter her. It never had before, so why start now?
The Serpentine River appeared in front of her and she reined in her horse. She loved how the fog hung low on the water during the early morning hour. It reminded her of the lake by their country estate where she’d spent hours reading in the chair that had been placed by the water, specifically for her.
Fredrick’s horse came to a stop next to her. “Are you mad?”
“Last I checked, I was not,” Octavia replied cheekily. “Why do you ask?”
Not looking the least bit amused, her brother continued. “You are going to break your neck if you keep riding like that.”
“I know how to ride my horse,” Octavia said as she ran her hand down her mare’s neck. “I have been riding Rosie since I was in braids.”
“That doesn’t mean Rosie wouldn’t ever get spooked and toss you off,” Fredrick advised.
Octavia leaned closer to her horse and said, “You would never do that to me, would you? You are a good horse.”
“It is like talking to a wall when I speak to you.”
“Yet you keep doing it, expecting a different result. Who is the mad one now?” Octavia joked.
Fredrick gave her an exasperated look. “You are impossible.”
Adjusting the reins in her hand, Octavia found herself curious about something. It had beenbothering her since the last time they had gone to Gunter’s. “Are you happy to be home?”
“I am,” came his quick reply. It was too quick. Now she suspected that Fredrick was hiding something.
“You don’t seem happy,” she remarked.
Fredrick smiled, but it looked more like a grimace. “Do I not look happy?”
“On the outside, yes, but your eyes are telling me a different story,” Octavia said. “I know it must be hard to leave your comrades—”
