Page 31 of Managing the Major

“No.” Alastair’s color had returned, but his expression was dark with anger. “That won’t be necessary, Nerissa. Wait with Abigail while I step outside. I need a moment and will take some fresh air.” He turned to Octavia as if to speak, but gave a stiff bow instead. “Miss Merrick.”

She watched in amazement as he turned on his heel and walked away.

Mrs. Croyden looked close to tears. “Excuse me, but I must find my daughter.” And with that, she left as well.

Octavia was stunned. What had just happened?

“Why are you standing by yourself?” She started at Genevieve’s voice. “I didn’t want to interrupt your tête-à-tête with Major Fairfax; he looked quite attentive. Heavens, how refreshing it will be to escape London for a bit this weekend. Are you bringing—what’s wrong, Octavia? Did you two argue?”

“No. He just left with barely a word. Something about that woman who now converses with Lady Willoughby disturbed him, I’m sure of it. Do you know who she is?”

“No, but the man next to her is Lord Crawford, the Viscount of Hurley. He’s as rich as Croesus, they say, and married a much younger wife. I understand they were living in Paris; whether they are in London permanently, I don’t know.”

“The head you have for gossip is amazing, Genevieve. Where do you store it all?”

“Lord Hope has his hobbies, and I have mine. A country wife has to amuse herself, after all. Oh, look, Octavia, there is Major Fairfax again. It’s so crowded and stuffy in here; perhaps he was just overwhelmed for a moment. How elegant he looks tonight! He’s not carrying a stick either.”

“Each time we’ve met in the park, he seems stronger. I hope he’s looking forward to riding again.”

“Have you decided when we leave London for Fairfax?”

“No, we haven’t settled on a day yet. I was about to ask him when he disappeared.”

A whiskered man in uniform stopped to engage Alastair in conversation. The musicians struck up a waltz as they continued to talk, and Octavia tapped her foot impatiently. Did he intend to speak with her again or not?

Idly, she watched the dancers, noting Fiona and Richard on the crowded floor. It was easy to spot the red-haired woman and her partner, the viscount. She was tall and slender and practically floated in his arms. Octavia’s stomach lurched as Alastair stopped mid-discussion, his eyes following her across the dance floor.

“Mrs. Croyden is coming our way,” Genevieve whispered, observing her discomfort. “I’ll find out who she is.”

“Genevieve—let’s not—”

But of course, there was no stopping her friend once she was determined to do something.

“Mrs. Croyden, I was hoping to see you again,” Genevieve gushed. “Miss Croyden, that lilac gown is so becoming…it might just be the color of the Season.”

“Good evening, Lady Hope. Please forgive our interruption, but may I ask a question? Mr. Von Berger has just engaged Abigail for two more dances, but I told her that’s too many with one gentleman. What is your opinion, Miss Merrick?”

Octavia dragged her gaze from Alastair. “More than two would certainly cause comment, but if Miss Croyden were to ask the gentleman to procure some refreshment after their second dance, that is entirely acceptable.”

“An excellent suggestion,” Mrs. Croyden agreed. “There is no lack of partners for Abigail tonight, Miss Merrick, and I believe we have you to thank. The ton has noticed your partiality.”

“It was so kind of you to introduce Mr. Von Berger,” Abigail added shyly. “I think he’s happy to make a friend, and I am too.”

“How wonderful,” Octavia murmured, looking at Alastair again. The whiskered gentleman had finally left, and he waited for the dance to end before crossing the floor. Perhaps now he would come and enlighten her.

But the very woman who seemed to distress him intercepted his progress. Smiling, she presented her companion, and Alastair bowed stiffly in return, his handsome face set in stone.

“Who are the couple speaking with Major Fairfax?” Genevieve inquired of Mrs. Croyden. “I don’t believe I know either person.”

She hesitated to reply, and Octavia had a moment of sympathy for her quandary.

“I don’t know the gentleman,” Mrs. Croyden said uncomfortably, “but the young lady is a former acquaintance from Lewisham, though we haven’t seen her in some years. If you’ll excuse me, I think Major Fairfax requires my company. Abigail, please stay here and wait with Miss Merrick and Lady Hope.”

Octavia pretended to listen as Genevieve quizzed Abigail on her new beau. Across the room, Mrs. Croyden had stepped protectively between Alastair and the couple. Something was definitely afoot.

After a few words, she laid a hand on her brother’s arm, glancing in Octavia’s direction. Alastair nodded, inclined his head politely, and walked away. His expression remained grim, but he reached Octavia’s side with no further interruptions.

“You are quite popular tonight, Major Fairfax,” she said with some asperity.