Page 62 of Managing the Major

Do you enjoy art? I thought of you as I walked through the British Institute on Friday. One artist, Clarkson Stanfield, particularly caught my eye; his picture of Lake Como in Italy is stunning. I’ve never been to Italy, but a trip there is worth entertaining.

But traveling the world would mean little if you were not by my side. During my walk this morning, I imagined kissing you on the Champs-Élysées at sunrise and all the wonderful places we might visit together. Does that appeal to your sense of adventure, my Valkyrie?

Once again, I must thank you wholeheartedly for your determination that I ride again. My initial response had everything to do with my own doubts and fears, rather than any intrusion on your part. After today’s ride, I look forward to visiting the park on Tuesday and feel quite confident that Thor will compensate for the damnable lack of strength in my left leg. Hopefully, hard work will bring further improvement in that regard.

Tonight might see the culmination of your efforts on Abigail’s behalf. We will soon discover if Count Von Berger is in favor of a match between his son and my niece.

I look forward to seeing you at the ceremony in Kensington Park tomorrow and already dread the coming of Monday, as even one day without your company is too much to bear.

Yours,

Alastair

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Dear Alastair,

How wonderful to hear today that Count Von Berger is amenable to the idea of Theo paying his addresses to Abigail. She is a lovely girl, and your family’s reputation and service to the Crown had to impress him. But I will take some credit for introducing the couple, and also for your sister’s prospective happiness with Sir William.

The well-attended dedication of Major-General Campbell’s statue on Sunday and your fine speech on his behalf were impressive indeed. You looked so splendid in your regimentals and with the array of medals on your chest; I must confess my heart beat faster. My mother praised your performance, and I’m sure she’ll let everyone know that the king himself selected you to represent Major-General Campbell.

Our visit with Valentina today went very well. I think she’s relieved to be close to term with no further complications. Mama will likely wait to go back again until next week. She will stay to await the birth and then remain after until things have settled. My brother-in-law, Denys, is quite beside himself with worry, and the entire household is topsy-turvy attempting to keep their two young boys occupied.

Are you and Nerissa planning to go to Almack’s this Wednesday? I do hope you will be there, as my family and I will most certainly attend. Then on Friday, we shall leave for Epsom! It looks like Genevieve and Lord Hope will meet us there after all, and Richard has taken pains to make sure we’re comfortable and well taken care of during the match race. No doubt we will share the traveling coach with Richard; if only there were a way to be alone with you for those two hours, I would be in heaven.

Yours,

Octavia

*

Tuesday proved to be sunny and mild, with a cornflower blue sky adorned by billowing clouds. At three o’clock, Octavia, riding Sigrun (her name for the roan mare, much to Alastair’s delight), accompanied by Alastair on Thor, entered Hyde Park through the Brook Street gate. Peter followed them from a discreet distance astride Lucifer.

She planned to ride along Rotten Row before the park became fashionably crowded at four thirty, yet still held enough people to show themselves off. She had no intention of hiding Alastair, but quite the contrary.

Wanting to look her best, she chose the latest creation of Madame Brigitte: a black riding habit in the fitted style she preferred, with a jabot of frothy Mechlin lace and a short top hat with black netting and pheasant feathers. Alastair’s dark-gray coat emphasized his broad shoulders and narrow waist. He had a wonderful seat, tall and straight in the saddle, with little indication of favoring his stronger side.

As they made their way to Rotten Row, a couple of gentlemen in a high-perch phaeton pulled along the horses, identifying themselves as officers who had recognized Alastair and were stopping to pay their respects. He introduced Octavia and exchanged pleasantries, looking quite at ease.

Though able to hold a rein in each hand now, Alastair preferred keeping them both in his right hand, comfortably guiding the horse one-handed. The left hand he rested casually on his thigh, and Octavia was sure no one was the wiser.

Thor was well-behaved as always, and Sigrun settled nicely as they bid the officers farewell and fell into an even trot toward Carriage Road. Lady Amelia promised to appear there at four o’clock in her fashionable phaeton, joined by Nerissa and Abigail.

At the turn, Octavia came back to the walk, and Alastair looked over with a crooked smile. “I didn’t want to be the first to say slow down, but confound it, I’m tiring so quickly.”

“That’s to be expected—every part of your body is working hard to maintain your balance.” She reached over impulsively and laid a gloved hand on his arm. “If only you knew how proud I am of all you’ve accomplished, Alastair.”

His eyes darkened, but before he could reply, Peter coughed loudly. Octavia rolled her eyes.

“Mama is determined to protect my virtue, although what could happen in the middle of Hyde Park, I don’t know!”

“She’s wise to do so. I could easily forget myself and kiss you when you say things like that.”

Her stomach quivered.

“I think I see your mother’s carriage in the distance. Let’s impress everyone and trot to the end of the avenue.”

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