Page 16 of Claiming His Christmas Angel

“Better about what?”

“Well, since you’ve not spent the past two weeks accompanying me to Montford Place in hopes of meeting Octavia, then it won’t trouble you to learn that she left for the country the day after the Ealing ball.”

Thunderstruck, Atticus stared at his sister as he struggled to comprehend her announcement. One thought collided with another and spun out of control as he absorbed Liza’s words. Damnation. He’d spent the first week after the Ealing affair calling on Octavia when she wasn’t even in the city.

The least the Montford butler could have done was say the woman had left for the country. Atticus suppressed a growl of irritation. Octavia had most likely instructed Colton to say nothing about her departure. Now, he’d spent an additional two weeks accompanying Liza to Montford Place almost daily, only to learn the woman hadn’t been in town for three weeks.

Meeting his sister’s gaze across the small space between them, Atticus saw a complacent expression on her face, the Cheshire smile still on her lips. It was clear she’d realized her news had thrown him off balance. The instant Atticus met her assessing gaze, he did his best to hide his irritation and surprise with a look of polite interest.

Eyebrows arched with speculation when he didn’t reply, his sister narrowed her gaze to study him intently. Atticus’s jaw clenched. He knew that look. Liza was analyzing a problem. Her critical thinking skills were exceptional. If she were a man, his sister would have made a brilliant politician. The sudden small gasp that escaped her was followed by her eyes widening with first surprise, then excitement.

“Of course! You’re Prince Charming,” she exclaimed with delight.

“I beg your pardon?” Perplexed, Atticus frowned at the smug satisfaction on his sister’s face.

“You’re the man who rescued Octavia the night of the Ealing affair. It makes perfect sense, and I don’t know why I didn’t put two and two together until now.” Liza began ticking things off on her fingers. “First, there was your lengthy delay returning to the ballroom that night, then your complete lack of surprise when I told you Octavia had left for the evening, not to mention how distracted you were when you finally did come find me.”

“What the devil are you babbling about,” he growled with exasperation as he watched his sister piece together the truth. How in the hell had his sister stumbled onto the fact that he’d been the one who’d helped Octavia escape the rose bushes?

“I am not babbling,” she snapped with a toss of her head. “And you know good and well what I’m talking about.”

“No. I don’t.” Atticus doubled down on his lie. “But please, why don’t you enlighten me?”

“Octavia fell into some brambles in the Ealing garden the night of the ball, and you were the knight in shining armor who came to her rescue,” Liza stated with confidence.

“And exactly how did you reach that conclusion?” He quirked an eyebrow with what he hoped was amused incredulity.

“The Montford’s driver told Clara what happened the night of the Ealing affair.” Liza’s quick reply made him glare at his sister.

“How many times have I told you not to listen to gossip,” Atticus said with disgust as he grappled with his sister’s latest revelation.

Christ Jesus, he’d been so preoccupied by Octavia that night, he’d failed to instruct the Montford driver not to mention anything about the incident. Tension made his jaw harden as he condemned himself for making such a foolish mistake.

“It’s not gossip.” Liza protested with vehemence, scowling at him with fierce indignation. “Clara asked their driver, Allan, if he knew the man who’d escorted Octavia to her carriage the night of the ball. He was reluctant to say anything until Clara pressured him into telling her what he knew, which wasn’t much. He hadn’t recognized the man and couldn’t remember the man’s name.”

“And that’s your logic for saying I’m the man who escorted Lady Octavia to her carriage that night?”

“No, it’s the other two points Allan shared with Clara. He recalled Octavia addressing her knight in shining armor as your grace.”

Again, Atticus’s gut twisted at his failure to warn Octavia’s driver, not to mention what had happened. At least he’d had the forethought to warn the men in the stable yard, never to mention Octavia’s disheveled appearance to anyone, or he’d ensure there would be harsh consequences.

“I’m not the only duke in the realm,” he replied with a dismissive snort as he made a pretense of looking out the window to discern their location.

“True, but the only duke I remember being at the ball was the Duke of Ashurst, even more interesting is Allan’s description of Octavia’s Prince Charming. He described you perfectly.”

Atticus’s heart sank at her words, and he darted a look at his sister. Liza’s confident expression dared him to deny her accusation. Seeing the cheerful smile on her face, he grunted with irritation. He knew it was pointless to deny Liza’s allegations. She’d laugh at any excuse he offered up in the way of an explanation. With an abrupt nod, he conceded defeat.

“All right, yes, I was the one who saw Lady Octavia safely to her carriage.”

“Why on earth couldn’t you just admit the truth when I brought up the subject? It was quite gallant of you to rush to Octavia’s aid.”

“The lady’s embarrassment was acute, and I had no wish to deepen her humiliation.” At his terse response, Liza eyed him with affection and admiration.

“But it wasn’t your fault, Atticus,” his sister said. “Octavia explained to her parents that she’d fallen into the brambles in her effort to avoid Lord Stanfield, but she didn’t say who’d assisted her.”

Relief surged through Atticus. His sister had taken Octavia at her word as to how she’d become entangled in the rose bushes. Liza hadn’t considered the possibility Octavia had overheard their conversation. That meant Octavia wouldn’t be humiliated any further, and Liza wouldn’t suffer any remorse for her words being the catalyst for Octavia’s intense embarrassment.

Liza paused for a long moment, but Atticus kept his gaze focused on the buildings lining the street. Silence filled the air for several minutes before his sister leaned forward to rest her hand on his arm.