Page 85 of Managing the Major

“We’re both thick-headed today. It’s Richard, of course! Alastair must have your brother’s permission to pay his addresses, and Richard is at Seldon. And he wouldn’t have asked him yet—he wasn’t sure of your feelings until last night.”

Octavia sank back into the sofa. “Thank goodness. He has to speak with Richard before he can even mention it.”

“Will Richard agree?”

“I don’t see why he shouldn’t. They became better acquainted during Epsom and got along famously. And Mama likes Alastair—she’s said as much. Of course, I will live more simply, but honestly, I don’t care about that much anymore. Richard had better say yes when he finds out I love him. The only question is, should I tell him of my feelings first, or wait until Alastair has spoken?”

“Hmmm,” Genevieve mused. “Richard is coming to Almack’s tonight, isn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“Then I would say something first, but be subtle. You know that sometimes you can charge in full force and set your brother on his heels. But we don’t want him to say anything to discourage the major. My impression is that Alastair’s pride often impedes his good sense.”

Freya jumped back up into her lap, and Octavia hugged her close, receiving a barrage of wet kisses in return. “You can be very wise at times, Genevieve. It’s a good thing we’re friends.”

“I’m sure there’s a compliment in that speech if I cared to search for it.”

*

That night at Almack’s, Alastair found Octavia first. After receiving her letter, he went to ride Thor as she had suggested. The horse performed well, and under Peter’s watchful eye, Alastair had cantered several times around the riding area, eager to surprise Octavia with his progress.

After Danubyu, he didn’t think he would ever have sexual congress again. But Octavia had known better, just as she did with the riding. He loved her and had no intention of taking her virginity last night. But it had been so long, and she was so beautiful and responsive, he hadn’t the power to stop. And now he was fiercely glad it happened, and that he was her first.

He found the perfect ring today at Rundell and Bridge—an opal full of fire and luminosity, surrounded by tiny sapphires the color of her eyes. He was on tenterhooks until meeting the earl tomorrow.

They were standing together on the opposite side of the room. Octavia wore ivory silk with blue hummingbirds embroidered on the full skirt, and the off-the-shoulder neckline fashioned of ivory netting and rouleaus of blue satin. He would ask her to wear it again for the wedding ceremony.

Alastair wanted to kiss her in front of everyone, to announce that she belonged only to him now, but instead, he walked over and greeted them cordially, turning to shake Richard’s hand and ask about Valentina.

“All is well, thank God. The baby was late, but not dangerously so, and she is perfectly healthy, blonde and blue-eyed like her mother,” Richard told him.

Lady Hope came up, radiant in deep red, and caught the end of the conversation, making further inquiries about Valentina. Alastair’s eyes slid over to Octavia, in time to see her looking surreptitiously at the placket of his breeches. She blushed rosily and quickly turned her eyes. He took a few steps towards her, then stopped to inspect the floor next to her skirts.

“Miss Merrick,” he murmured, “I think you may have dropped something.” Her hands went immediately to her earrings, puzzled, but she bent also, joining the search. When their heads were close together, he briefly caught her fingers in his. “Were you imagining my shaft sliding into you just then, Octavia?” he whispered wickedly.

Her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks. “No, Alastair. Actually, I wondered what it would be like to put your shaft in my mouth,” she whispered back.

He straightened so quickly that they almost bumped heads. Clearing his throat, he stepped away, sure his damnable color was high. “I must have been mistaken, Miss Merrick. I thought something was gleaming at your feet.”

“Thank you nonetheless, Major Fairfax.”

Alastair shot a look toward Richard and Genevieve, who were still engaged in conversation. “You’ve put me in an awkward position, Octavia.”

“I see that,” she said pointedly, looking down at the bulge in his breeches. “And I am so sorry to do that, Major.”

This wasn’t helping his state of arousal at all. “Somehow, I doubt the veracity of that statement.”

“Well, perhaps we should converse about the weather until your…er…suspicions subside.”

That conversation lasted a good ten minutes, so much so that Richard wandered off to intercept Lord Hope. Genevieve remained, looking mystified as they debated the probability of storms in the middle of May.

The rest of the evening passed uneventfully. Alastair watched as Viscount Crawford and Lady Crawford entered at ten thirty. Lucy wore a stunning necklace of diamonds, and he recalled Rafe had told him some time ago the viscount was ridiculously wealthy. She hadn’t approached him again, although he often caught her staring at Octavia with a glittering look that made him uneasy, but she never moved in that direction.

He made it a point to keep his eye on Lucy, just in case. Once, as their gazes locked, she gave Alastair a self-satisfied smile, peculiarly smug in nature. That made him uneasy, too.

But he had more to occupy his mind than Lady Crawford. Theo Von Berger had requested to call tomorrow, and he was reasonably certain the young man would ask permission to pay his addresses to Abigail. How ironic that it would take place before Alastair’s own visit to Richard for the same reason.

Riding in the morning with Octavia seemed doubtful with Theo’s visit, if he were to complete the hospital documents Richard sent over for their meeting. With chagrin, he realized tomorrow night was her dinner at Countess Lieven’s, so he would miss seeing her then as well.