“Yes, as long as we look at the pavilions first,” Octavia said. “I tire of walking through their gardens. It doesn’t excite me.”
“Very few things do, Sister,” Fredrick joked.
Harred stepped forward and offered his arm to Octavia. “May I escort you to the coach?”
“Thank you,” Octavia replied as she accepted his arm. “What do you think peacocks think about?”
“I don’t rightly know,” Harred admitted. “I have never really thought about it.”
A line between Octavia’s brow appeared as she said, “In order to think like a peacock, I must become a peacock.”
Fredrick glanced heavenward. “What nonsense are you spouting?”
“I am just thinking out loud,” Octavia replied.
“Perhaps you can keep your outlandish thoughts to yourself or you are going to make Harred think you are going mad,” Fredrick teased.
Harred grinned. “I think I would very much like to see how Octavia intends to become a peacock.”
Octavia offered him a private smile. “That is why I like you…” The moment the words were spoken, she pressed her lips together and a faint blush formed on her cheeks. He had a feeling that she hadn’t meant to say those words out loud. But he was glad that she had. It gave him hope that she might one day have affection for him.
As he escorted Octavia to the coach, they didn’t speak and Harred missed the sound of her voice. How could he misssomething that he heard so frequently? But he did. He knew it was something that he would never tire of.
Once Octavia was situated on the bench, Harred sat across from her. He thought the silence had gone on long enough so he said, “It is a beautiful day to go to Vauxhall Gardens.” Had he truly just commented on the weather?
“It is,” Octavia agreed as she turned her attention to the open window.
Fredrick claimed the seat next to his sister and it was only a moment later that the coach began to move.
For most of the trip to Vauxhall Gardens, they all seemed to retreat to their own thoughts, and Harred couldn’t help but wonder what Octavia was thinking. It shouldn’t matter to him, but it did. Greatly.
The coach came to a stop near the entrance of Vauxhall Gardens, and the footman stepped off his perch to open the door.
They all exited the coach and approached the main gate to pay the entrance fee. Once they started walking down the main path, Harred turned towards Octavia and asked, “Which attraction is your favorite?”
“That is like asking if I have a favorite biscuit,” Octavia said. “I just love all of them so much.”
“You love biscuits?” Harred asked.
Octavia laughed. “Very much so. Don’t you?”
Harred shrugged. “I never gave it very much thought,” he said. “I enjoy biscuits, but I am not sure if I love them.”
“I don’t love them as much as Anette does, but I do enjoy a good biscuit,” Octavia said. “Food makes me happy.”
“What else makes you happy?” Harred asked. He truly wanted to know.
“My family makes me happy and my friends,” Octavia replied. “They lift me up and support me when I need it the most.”
“I am happy that you have that support.”
Octavia grew quiet. “It has been very difficult watching my mother suffer as she has, but I am fortunate that I am not alone in this, no matter how many times I have to remind myself of that,” she said. “The constant presence of grief isn’t what concerns me the most. It is the worry that this grief will never leave me, making me learn to coexist with it.”
“I will admit that it is not easy to deal with grief, but it is much more bearable when someone can help carry the burden, if only for a moment,” Harred remarked. “There will be good days and bad days, but it will get better. It must.”
“I’m sorry,” Octavia murmured. “I do not mean to make light of the situation, considering my mother is still alive, and your parents are...” Her words stopped.
“Are not,” he said, finishing her thought. “It is all right. Grief is not exclusive to death. It comes in all shapes and forms, and I promise it will show up when we least expect it.”
