

A Season for Honour (Fallbrook brothers 1)

Liese Anning

A Season for Honour © 2020 by Liese Anning. Smashwords Edition. All Rights Reserved.

A Season for Honour

Copyright 2020 Liese Anning

Published by Liese Anning at Smashwords

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

Cover designed Liese Anning

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Liese Anning

First Printing: June 2020

Table of Contents

Copyright

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Epilogue
Prologue

Hillcroft Seminary for Young Ladies

Autumn 1806

'Happy Birthday, Octavia,' Katie said excitedly, 'do you like your present?'

'I adore it, Katie,' Octavia said as she gave her friend a hug, 'it is beautiful, and it is the loveliest gift I have ever received. Please help me put it on,' she said, taking the small oval-shaped gold locket out of its simple box and handing it to her friend.

It was Octavia Stretton's fifteenth birthday, and she had spent weeks looking forward to the celebrations. In fact, if the truth were known, she had been counting down the days until she could celebrate her birthday in style. The event would happen in the senior common room at the Hillcroft Seminary for Young Ladies, with all her classmates in attendance.

For most of the year, Hillcroft was a quiet and reserved place, filled with well-behaved young ladies between the ages of eight and eighteen. Miss Howell, the somewhat austere headmistress and owner of the school, had two guiding principles: order and discipline. And the overall ethos of the school reflected its leader's strict moral code. When she had founded the school, she had one objective in mind; to transform little girls, with all their youthful exuberances, into fashionable and sedate young ladies. Ladies, who in time, would take their place in society as obedient wives and mothers. She believed a girl's education must reflect their future position in society. Of course, her pupils must be able to read and write and have the fundamental mathematical skills necessary to run a household. But, in her opinion, fashionable ladies required only a rudimentary academic education. She had organised the curriculum with those principles dominating her choice of subjects taught at the school.

Even though the formidable Miss Howell was a strict disciplinarian, she did not want to be known amongst her charges as a tyrant. She knew, from her vast experience of being a headmistress, that every now and again, the girls in her charge needed to enjoy themselves and occasionally indulge their high spirits. Therefore, she allowed them to have a small party on their birthday. On these special occasions, the girls could eat vast quantities of cake without censure and play their choice of parlour games, even if they became a little rowdy. The girls always looked forward to these treats for weeks in advance, as they were often the highlight of a very dull term. Today, it was Octavia's turn to act as the hostess for her own party, and she was looking forward to treating her friends.

Katie, Octavia's best friend and confidant, fastened the locket around her friend's neck. 'Let me see,' Katie said, unable to hide the excitement in her voice. 'It is lovely. I knew it would suit you.'

Octavia touched the locket with her fingers and looked at her. 'Katie,' she said as a few tears sprung into the corner of her eyes, 'it is lovely, thank you.'

The door of the common room opened and a maid, slowly walked into the room, carrying a large cake. As soon as the maid had placed the plate carefully in front of Octavia, the senior girls rushed over. They then crowded around the table in an excited huddle.

'Cut the cake,' Flora, another of Octavia's friends, said impatiently, 'and make sure that the slices are enormous. I am famished.'

Octavia took the knife and looked at her classmate. 'Flora Jenkins,' she said with mock hauteur, 'you will just have to be patient like everyone else.'

As Octavia was slicing the cake and handing out the large, generous portions to her classmates, the door to the common room opened. The excited chatter that had almost been deafening stopped abruptly when Miss Howell entered. 'Octavia, my dear,' she said earnestly, 'forgive my intrusion, but you must come to my office immediately.'

'Oh!' Octavia said, a lump developing in the pit of her stomach. The excitement of the day had suddenly vanished, leaving her feeling empty and apprehensive. 'Katie, can you take over and give everyone a slice of cake.'

'What have you done?' Flora said, after swallowing a large mouthful of cake. 'It must be serious. The owl only ever calls you to her office if she is furious with you. I should know.'

'Oh, do be quiet Flo,' Katie said, annoyed at the tactless comment of her classmate. 'You do say the most ridiculous things. We all know that Octavia never does anything wrong, unlike you.'

There was another burst of excited chatter, while the girls continued to speculate on all the reasons why Octavia could have been summoned to the headmistress' office.

'I had better go,' Octavia said nervously, turning to Katie, 'I do not want to keep Miss Howell waiting.'

Katie smiled at her and touched her arm gently. 'All will be well,' she said reassuringly, 'you will see.'

But how could it all be well? Octavia thought to herself as she walked with trepidation down the corridor towards Miss Howell's office. What had she done that could have caused her to be summoned to a private meeting?

Once she had arrived and stood outside the door, she could feel her heart thumping in her chest. But, as hard as she tried, she could not think of a reason why she had been summoned. Just like Katie said, she always behaved herself, and to her knowledge, she had never broken any of Hillcroft's countless rules intentionally.

As she slowly raised her hand to knock on the door, she paused and listened to the raised voices that she could hear quarrelling inside the room. One of the voices she could hear was the familiar voice of Miss Howell. 'This is outrageous,' Octavia heard her thunder, 'Miss Stretton is only fifteen years old, and has another two years left at Hillcroft.'

Octavia, overcoming the anxiety she felt, knocked quietly on the door. The angry voices stopped immediately, and she heard the familiar voice of Miss Howell, commanding her to enter. She opened the handle slowly and walked into the room. Miss Howell, who looked at her very seriously, motioned for her to enter. 'Ah, Octavia, my dear,' she said in a soft, calm voice, 'please come in and shut the door.'

Octavia immediately obeyed the command and walked across the room towards Miss Howell's large and imposing desk. As she sauntered across the carpet, she observed two men sitting in chairs opposite Miss Howell's desk. Both men, who were apparently gentlemen of fashion, turned around to look at her as she crossed the room. She felt self-conscious as they looked her up and down with a critical eye. The younger of the two, seemed to be sneering at her, and she could not fail to notice the look of utter contempt he was giving her.

Octavia thought that there was something familiar about both men. The older gentleman was now staring at her with a look of derision in his eyes. There was something recognisable in those cold grey eyes that continued to critically examine her as she moved towards him. But, however much she tried to will herself to remember where she had seen them before, she could not recall where it had been.

Once she had walked the length of the office, she stood in front of Miss Howell's desk with her hands nervously clasped behind her back. 'Octavia,' Miss Howell said, after what felt like an eternity, 'do you recognise these gentlemen?'

Octavia, unable to find her voice, just shook her head and looked down, fixing her gaze on the pattern on the carpet that was just in front of her feet.

'This is your father, Sir Augustus Stretton, and your elder brother Mr Fabian Stretton.'

'Papa,' Octavia managed to say, in a voice that was barely above a whisper as she looked up at the stranger, who was still looking at her contemptuously. She could not remember the last time she had seen him. It must have been over ten years since he had left the family home in Somersetshire, to take up residence in London, after the unexpected death of his wife, Octavia's mother. During those intervening years, there had been no communication between them. He was a stranger to her.

'Your father has come to take you back home,' Miss Howell said, her voice shaking with emotion.

'Take me home?' Octavia repeated in a whisper, 'but, I am home.'

Miss Howell stood up and walked around the desk and stood next to Octavia. She then took both her hands in her own and turned her around so that Octavia was facing her. 'Oh, my dear, dear girl,' the older woman said as tears welled up in her eyes, 'your father has come to take you away to your new home.'

'My new home?' Octavia asked her eyes wide. Then she added, with a hint of desperation in her voice, 'but, when will I return?'

'My dear,' she said, her voice shaking slightly, 'you will not be returning. Once you have packed all your possessions, you will be leaving Hillcroft with your father and brother. You have always been a good girl and...' Miss Howell took a step back and released her hands. Then the headmistress took a deep breath and composed herself. 'Now,' she said, the familiar voice of command had returned to her voice, 'be a good girl and obey your father. He will know what is best for your future. Go, start packing. I will fetch Katie. She will help you pack your belongings.'

In a little over an hour, after being summoned to Miss Howell's office, Octavia was sitting in her father's carriage opposite her father and brother. In her hands, she clasped a piece of her own birthday cake that had been wrapped up in a handkerchief and thrust into her hands by Flora as she was leaving Hillcroft. It had been an emotional farewell. All her classmates had gathered outside the front entrance of the school to say their final farewells. She had watched them through her tears, as they stood outside the front of the school waving. She had continued to look at them until they had disappeared entirely from her view. Octavia was unable to stop the steady stream of tears that were spilling down her cheeks and falling onto the folds of her cloak. It broke her heart to think that she would never see her dearest friends again.

'I do wish you would stop bawling,' her brother said harshly as the carriage joined the main road, 'we have a long journey ahead of us, and I do not think I could put up with your snivelling for another minute.'

Octavia, however much she tried, could not stop the tears that were flowing down her cheeks. In the space of one hour, her happy, contented life, had been snatched away from her. 'Your brother is right,' her father said icily as he leant towards her so that she could see his face in the half-light of the setting sun. 'Stop crying,' he ordered harshly.

'Do you think he'll have her?' her brother said, looking at her critically, but not talking to her. 'She ain't up to much, is she? Far too small and skinny to arouse any man's interest.'

'Fabian,' his father said, a crooked smile on his lips, 'she is perfect for him. Absolutely perfect. All he wants is an heir, and she is old enough to provide him with one of those.'

Octavia looked at them, her eyes still wet with tears. She did not understand the meaning of their conversation and the tone they used frightened her. Surely, they could not be talking about her. But, as she looked at them fearfully, she was aware that they were both still examining her coldly. 'I do not understand?' she said after she had summoned up the courage to address both her father and brother. 'Where are you taking me?'

'In three days, my dear girl,' her father said, still looking at her with a cold expression in his eyes, 'you are to be married.'

'Married,' Octavia said, looking at him blankly, 'but I am only fifteen years old. I do not want to get married; I want to return to Hillcroft. Please, Papa, let me go back.'

'You, my girl, will do as you are told,' he replied roughly, his voice devoid of compassion.

'But, Papa, I will not...' She felt a crack across her face and then a stinging pain. It was the first time in her life that she had been struck by another person, and it hurt. She put her hand to her cheek and looked at him with wounded eyes.

'You, young lady, will do as you are told,' he said through gritted teeth, as he reached across the carriage and took her wrist, holding it tightly. 'Do you understand?'

'Yes, Papa,' she whispered, wincing with the pain, 'yes. You are hurting me. Please let me go.'

Her father released her wrist and sat back. 'Then, stop blabbing,' he ordered unfeelingly. 'Otherwise, I will stop the carriage, and have you thrashed.'

Octavia stared at her father in disbelief. He looked a lot older than she remembered, though her memories of him had faded over the years. She remembered him as a kind and gentle man; a man who loved his wife and children and had never used harsh words when he had spoken to them. She remembered how he had been inconsolable when his beloved wife, Octavia's mother, had died unexpectedly in a riding accident. She remembered how he had disappeared to London the day after her death, not even returning for the funeral. She had not seen him since the dreadful day of the accident. It was hard to believe, as she sat and watched him warily across the carriage, that this was the same man who used to kiss her tenderly on the cheek every night before going to bed and tell her stories of faraway lands.

'Papa,' she whispered, addressing him using the familiar word of endearment that she used to call him all those years ago. 'Why are you doing this to me?'

Her father sat back and looked out of the window, ignoring her question. Her brother, Fabian Stretton, who was seven years her senior, just laughed. Octavia realised as she examined his face in the half-light of dusk, that if she had not been formally introduced to him by Miss Howell, she would have never recognised him as the brother she had once known and loved. He had changed beyond recognition since she had last seen him, a year before her mother's death when he was about to go to school.

After he had stopped laughing, he looked at her. 'You, my dear sister, are going to save this family from ruin.'

'Ruin?' Octavia repeated. 'Fabian, I do not understand.'

'You are going to repay a debt of honour,' he said, looking at her contemptuously.

Octavia continued to stare back at him. 'Fabian,' she said in disbelief, 'I still do not understand.'

'When our parent's married,' he began with a flourish, 'our mother's father, our maternal grandfather, put aside money for our mother as part of her settlements. He did not trust our own father with all his money, and he wanted to know that she would be provided for if the marriage ended prematurely. He put aside a sizeable fortune, in trust, that would be released if the marriage ceased. If she predeceased him, which as you know she did, the money would be held in trust for any daughters, she might have. You, my dear little sister, are her only daughter. Therefore, the money is held in trust for you until your twenty-fifth birthday, or, of course, your marriage. You, believe it or not, are an heiress, and you should be grateful to us because we have done you a service by finding you a suitable husband.'

'But, Fabian,' she whispered, 'I am not yet out of the schoolroom.'

'Your age does not signify,' he said dismissively, 'with your father's consent, you can be legally married at fifteen. As soon as you are wed, all the money that has been held in trust will belong to your husband. He has agreed to provide us with a generous portion of your inheritance as soon as he has the money.'

Octavia looked at her brother and only saw a cold, unsympathetic expression in his eyes. 'Who is my husband to be?' she said.

'Miles Sorrell, the Earl of Kendall,' her brother replied, 'we are travelling directly to his estate in Yorkshire. Upon our arrival, you will marry him by special license.'

'Is he aware of my age?' Octavia asked. 'I cannot believe a respectable gentleman would agree to marry a mere schoolgirl.'

Fabian laughed again, but it was a cold and hollow laugh and one that put fear in Octavia. 'Of course, he does. All he wants from you is for you to provide him with a son and heir, and believe me, you are old enough to do that.'

Octavia looked out of the carriage window, watching the evening sky that still glowed faintly with an orange hue from the setting sun. As she watched the light fade away and disappear into the darkness, it reminded her of the life that she was leaving behind. It was a bleak future that stretched out in front of her. A future that was devoid of any hope. Her happy world at Hillcroft had ended abruptly, and all her dreams had slipped away from her. She wanted to cry, but she knew from her brother's and father's warning that tears would not be tolerated. The piece of cake that Flora had thrust into her hand as she was about to leave slipped off her lap. It now lay in a trampled mess on the carriage floor. It reminded Octavia of her hopes and dreams for the future that she had once cherished.
Chapter 1

September 1817

'Octavia,' Katie said firmly, 'Charles needs a tutor.'

'I know, Katie,' Octavia Sorrell, the Countess of Kendall, said as she sighed loudly in agreement with her old friend. 'He is already ten years old, and next year I will have to send him, with the greatest reluctance, to Eton. And I am fully aware of how woefully unprepared he is for school.'

Octavia was sitting in the drawing-room of her best friend, Lady Katherine Sommerville. The two women had known each other since they had met at the Hillcroft Seminary for Young Ladies, but they had lost touch for nearly ten years after Octavia had left school unexpectedly to marry the 6th Earl of Kendal. 'Octavia,' Katie said with a sigh, 'why did you dismiss the curate, Mr Dowle? Freddie said that he was intelligent and eminently qualified to teach Charles. He did get a first in Theology at Oxford,' Katie said, leaning back in her chair.

'Obviously, they do not teach manners at Oxford,' Octavia said primly, 'I think he is a churlish man, and on top of that, he is also a disagreeable bully.'

'Oh dear,' Katie said, looking concerned, 'I know he comes across as a bit of a bore, but he is surely not that bad!'

'Katie,' Octavia said, looking at her friend seriously, 'I could put up with him in my house if being a bit dull was his only problem. Unfortunately, he has far more serious character flaws.'

'I am afraid that Freddie will be furious,' Katie replied, furrowing her brow, 'Mr Dowle was the only local tutor he could find.'

'I know he sounded suitable in every way. He lives in the village and has excellent qualifications. Everything about him seemed to be perfect. However, I have since discovered that he is not suitable to tutor Charles,' Octavia said, leaning forward and patting her old friend's hand. 'Anyway,' she said with a bright smile, 'I cannot imagine Freddie furious. A little annoyed maybe, but never furious.'

'Does he know?' Katie asked, leaning back in her chair once more.

'No, not yet,' Octavia said, sighing once more. 'But I suppose it will only be a matter of time before Mr Dowle tells him what happened this morning.'

'I suppose that Freddie can tutor Charles,' Katie said, furrowing her brow in contemplation. 'Yes,' she said after she had given it some extra thought, 'I think that would be an excellent idea. He could go to Northleigh every morning and give Charles his lessons.'

'Absolutely not!' Octavia replied forcefully.

'Why ever not?' Katie said, looking a little hurt at Octavia's forceful reply.

'Katie,' Octavia said gently, leaning towards her friend and patting her on the arm, 'I will not have Freddie feeling obliged to come all the way to Northleigh every day. I do not want him to wear himself out on my account.'

'And how am I going to wear myself out?' The cheerful voice of Sir Frederick Sommerville said from the door of the drawing-room.

'Oh, Freddie,' Katie said, as she slowly stood up and walked over to her husband a little unsteadily.

Octavia saw how Katie's eyes lit up when Freddie crossed the room, with his hands outstretched towards his wife. How wonderful it must be, she thought to herself, to be in love. And to be the sole object of someone's affections and desires. There had been no love or affection in her marriage to Lord Kendall, and she had lost hope that she would ever find that feeling of intimacy that her friends apparently shared. Octavia then felt a twinge of guilt as she remembered her two children, Charles and Olivia. Of course, she loved them. She loved them dearly and would do anything to protect them from harm. But she knew that the intense protective mother's love she had for her children, was different from the physical desire she saw in Freddie and Katie's eyes. Why was the English word for love woefully inadequate, she thought to herself? Why could there not be more than one word to describe that unusually diverse emotion?

Freddie walked over to his wife, took both her hands and gave her a gentle kiss on her cheek. He looked tenderly into her eyes, 'go and sit down, my love. You look a little pale today.'

'Oh, Freddie,' Katie said, smiling up at a husband, 'you are sweet, but I have never felt better.'

'I would rather you did not exert yourself so close to your confinement,' he said, looking at her, unable to hide the look of concern in his eyes.

Katie put her hands on her swollen stomach. 'Do not worry,' she said, 'the baby is well. I can feel him or her performing acrobatics.' She laughed as she took Freddie's hand and placed it where the baby was moving, 'can you feel the baby.'

'Yes,' Freddie said as he gently rubbed her, 'I can.'

Octavia was close to tears as she watched the tender scene between husband and wife. Lord Kendall had never shown her any concern when she was with child. In his eyes, she had just been a vessel to produce his heir, nothing more. There had been no fondness, no kind words, nothing. She fought back the tears that stung the back of her eyes. Octavia had decided, many years ago, not to allow herself to become maudlin about her past. Still, occasionally, like today, she had to remind herself not to wallow in self-pity.

'Please go and sit down, my love,' Freddie said softly, after kissing his wife on the cheek, 'and I will ring for tea.'

Katie obeyed her husband and sat down on the sofa she had just vacated.

'Octavia,' Freddie said, after he had rung for tea, 'I have just had an interesting conversation with Mr Dowle.'

'Oh,' Octavia said contritely, looking at her hands that were clasped in her lap, 'what exactly did he tell you?'

'He told me,' Freddie said, looking at Octavia, his eyebrows raised, 'that you dismissed him, in the middle of Charles' Latin lesson.'

'Did he tell you why I asked him to leave?'

'I am afraid, Octavia,' he replied, shaking his head, 'he was so angry, that I could only understand every other word. But I did manage to work out that he blames you entirely for his dismissal.'

Octavia snorted, in a very unladylike manner, and then said, 'he would blame me.'

'What exactly happened, Octavia? I did not understand a word he said from the rambling account he gave me.' Freddie said with a sigh.

After a short silence, Octavia sat up and looked at Freddie in the eye. Why should she be afraid of telling him what had happened that morning? She was not ashamed of dismissing Mr Dowle, and if she had to relive this morning all over again, she would have no qualms about doing it again. 'He disciplined Charles,' Octavia said, her voice bristling with anger.

'There is more to it than just that,' Freddie said when she went silent. 'How did Dowle discipline Charles?'

'I came into the library this morning, to see how Charles was progressing with his lessons and saw Mr Dowle beating Charles,' Octavia said indignantly. 'Oh Freddie, you know that I will not allow anyone in my household to use any form of physical chastisement.'

'Oh,' Freddie said, 'that is why he was quoting verses from the Bible about sparing the rod and spoiling the child. Do you know why he was chastising Charles? Again, I could not understand a word that Dowle was telling me.'

'Latin verbs,' Octavia said crossly, 'poor Charles wrote some of them down incorrectly.' She looked at him and said forcefully, 'Freddie, I will not let anybody punish my children physically.'

'I know,' Freddie said, looking with concern at Octavia.

'This morning, when I entered the library, I saw my son bent over a desk, his trousers were down, and he was being struck with a cane,' Octavia said, becoming even more animated as she spoke. 'And all Charles did, was make a few mistakes in a Latin translation.'

'Octavia,' Freddie said seriously. 'They use the cane at Eton.'

'Freddie,' she said sadly, the anger had suddenly drained from her, 'I know I cannot protect my son forever. He is the 7th Earl of Kendall. A title he inherited when he was just a year old. I know that I cannot protect him forever and that he must go to school and receive an education that will prepare him for his future. But, when I saw the look on Mr Dowle's face this morning, when he was hitting Charles, it reminded me of...' Octavia stopped. She did not need to tell Freddie the memories that Mr Dowle had evoked that morning. Freddie knew all too well what had happened to her during her two years of marriage to Lord Kendall.

'I recognised the look in his eyes,' Octavia eventually said, 'he was enjoying it.' Octavia clasped her hands together tightly. 'My poor boy still has red marks all over his backside and lower back.'

Katie came over and sat next to Octavia and put her arm around her shoulder. She then gave her a handkerchief to wipe the tears that were falling down her cheeks.

'Freddie, you know,' Octavia said between sniffs, 'that I had made it very clear to Mr Dowle that if Charles required any form of punishment, I would be the one that administered it. I am not against punishing my children for poor behaviour. I want them to grow up knowing the difference between right and wrong. However, as long as they are living under my protection, I will decide when my children need discipline, and I will decree the punishment.'

Freddie slowly nodded. 'I do agree with you, Octavia,' he said gently, 'I can understand the anger you felt when you saw Dowle this morning. He had no right beating Charles after you had made it clear to him that you would not tolerate physical punishment in your household.'

'I would not let anyone treat my child like that,' Katie said, looking at a husband with misty eyes. 'I never did like Mr Dowle, he always proses on in his sermons and uses words I do not understand. I think he enjoys being judgemental.'

'But, Octavia, we still have a problem,' Freddie said with a sigh, 'the boy needs an education. If he does not have any tutoring, he will be at a severe disadvantage with his peers. It is essential, before he goes to school, that he has a basic understanding of Latin, Mathematics and the Classics.'

'I know, Freddie,' Octavia said sadly. 'I know he is already at a disadvantage with other boys his own age. He lives in a household surrounded by women. And, he has no close male relatives, well none that are suitable to guide him and set him a good example of how to live his life.' She looked over at Freddie and smiled, 'Freddie, if it had not been for your help and guidance, I do not know what I would have done. You have taught him to ride, you have taken him fishing, you were the one that rescued him when he got stuck up a tree. I do not know what I would have done if I did not have you and Katie living so close, supporting me.'

'You do not have to thank me, Octavia,' Freddie said, 'I am Charles' guardian, and I am also very fond of him. I could teach him. He is a bright boy, and it would be no hardship for me. I could come over to Northleigh three mornings a week. And on the days, I cannot come, I will set him some exercises and Miss Sydenham, Olivia's governess, could supervise him.'

'No, Freddie,' Octavia said firmly, 'I have already told Katie that is not fair to you. In less than two months, you will have your own child to worry about. Once you become a father, you will not be able to spare the time to tutor Charles. You will have other priorities, and I must insist that they come first.'

Octavia could tell by the silence that Freddie reluctantly agreed with her. He eventually nodded in agreement. 'Yes,' he said, looking over at his wife, 'I do not like to admit it, but you are right.' He stood up and walked over to the fireplace and leant against it. 'I will write to my aunt, Lady Harmsworth. I am confident that she will know of a well-educated gentleman that requires employment.' He looked over to Octavia. 'I will write to her today and see if she can recommend anyone from her acquaintances. It would take a month to make the necessary arrangements, and I can tutor Charles until then.'

'A stranger, at Northleigh,' Octavia looked at him wide-eyed, 'are you sure that is wise?'

'He does not have to live with you and the children at Northleigh,' Freddie said, 'he could live at the old Dower house. It is less than a mile from Northleigh, and he would be able to walk there every day.'

'But the Dower house has not been lived in for at least twenty years,' Octavia said doubtfully.

'I will send some servants over tomorrow and see what repairs need to be done to make it inhabitable again. My guess is that it just needs a good clean and an airing,' Freddie said hopefully. 'Octavia,' he then said, 'I do think that this could be your only option. You must see, that your priority, for Charles, is to get him ready for Eton.'

Octavia nodded. 'Yes,' she said quietly, 'I suppose it is.'

'Good,' Freddie said emphatically, 'I will go and write to my aunt immediately.'
Chapter 2

'Alexander!' Captain Alexander Fallbrook was awoken by the shrill voice of his mother, calling out his name. 'Alexander,' he heard her say again. Her voice was becoming louder and higher in pitch, as she continued to call his name. Alex, even in his semi-conscious state, knew that he must be in trouble. His mother only ever used his full name if she was angry with him. 'Who is... this?' he heard her bluster indignantly. 'I have never been so... so... shocked,' he then heard her say irately as he opened his eyes, only to see her blurry image standing in the doorway.

Alex, who was still caught between the world of dreams and reality, could not think of a good reason why his mother had come to visit him so early in the day. His head was still heavy from the effects of the copious amounts of alcohol he had drunk the previous evening. As he turned over to see the object of his mother's indignation, he became aware that he was not alone. Lying next to him, her eyes half-closed, was a woman; a woman he did not recognise. She was lying with her arm draped around his waist, in a state of dishabille.

As he looked at his bedfellow, he tried to recall the events of the previous night. The other tenants of the bachelor apartments where he lived, would not take kindly to him bringing any woman into the building in the middle of the night. Since he did not wish to move out, he tended to adhere to the strict rules of the building. He could not remember the events of the previous night that had caused him to put his tenancy at risk. In the back of his mind, he vaguely remembered propositioning a beautiful young woman with golden hair and big blue eyes and inviting her to go back with him to his apartments. As he looked at her now, still lying next to him half-asleep, he could not believe that this was the same woman he had smuggled into his bedchamber only a few hours ago. Her blonde hair that he had thought shone with golden flecks in the moonlight, was, in fact, yellow and slightly brassy in colour. Her smooth, flawless skin that he had found so enticing was caked in a thick layer of white powder to hide the uneven surface underneath. The pinkish tinge of a flush on her cheeks had been achieved by the crude application of two spots of rouge. After the long night in his bed, this had become smeared all over her cheeks and across his pillow.

'Get her out of here,' a voice, that was not his mother's, but sounded suspiciously like his older brother, boomed from just behind the doorway. 'I will take Mama to your sitting room and give her some hartshorn. We will expect you to join us once you have got rid of that... that doxy. Then you can come and explain yourself and apologise to your mother.'

The woman, who was now wide awake, had taken umbrage at his brother's speech. She sat up in bed, making no effort to cover her modesty. 'How dare you speak to me like that,' she almost screamed, using a thick cockney accent that made Alex wince. 'I ain't no doxy,' she said indignantly, 'I'm a respectable lady. And I'd like you to remember that.'

Alex, who was feeling more than a little ashamed of himself, did not want to argue with her, or his brother, he just wanted them all to go and leave him alone. 'How much do I owe you?' Alex said as he swung out of bed and walked over to his bureau, where he kept his money. He opened a drawer and took out a leather pouch that contained a handful of gold coins. He took out a couple of gold sovereigns and held them out to her. He knew it was far too much, but he wanted her to leave as quickly as possible.

'Oh, no, love,' she said as she swung out of bed and picked up her dress from the floor, 'you've already paid my master. If I take that, he'll only take it and expect me to give him more next time. I'll take a couple of shillings, or a few pennies, to buy some gin, but I'll take no more than that.'

As Alex looked in the pockets of his jacket for his loose change, he felt thoroughly ashamed of himself. How had his life, at the age of eight and twenty, come to this? He had propositioned a woman he had found on a street corner and had brought her back to his own bed.

'Take these,' he said to her gently, as he thrust a handful of coins into her hands.

'Thank you, sir,' she said as she looked at the coins, 'you're a gent. If you ever need my services again, you'll know where to find me.'

His valet, Mr Walton, entered the bedchamber. 'Walton,' Alex said, too embarrassed to even look at his servant, 'would you please show this lady out of the building, discreetly.'

'Very good, sir,' his valet said, keeping his expression blank. 'I will show "the lady" out through the back entrance.'

'Thank you, Walton,' Alex said as he smiled sheepishly at his valet.

'Oh, Alex,' his mother said as she sobbed into her handkerchief, 'you used to be a dear, sweet, sweet boy. How could you do this to yourself?'

His brother, the Earl of Huntington, put his arm around his mother's shoulders. 'Hush, Mama,' he said as a gentle command, 'I did warn you that it was not a good idea to visit Alex at his apartments.'

'I did not believe the gossip,' she said, her voice muffled by the fabric of her handkerchief. 'I needed to see for myself. And now I know that every spiteful word was true,' she said her voice turning to anger. 'My son is nothing more than a "dissolute libertine,"'

'Mama,' Lord Huntingdon said softly squeezing her hand reassuringly, 'please do not distress yourself. I will speak to Alex about his behaviour and how he is dragging the family name through the mud.'

'No, Ralph,' she said to her eldest son firmly. 'This situation has gone on long enough. The reputation of this family is in jeopardy, and it is all down to Alex and his association with that man.'

Alex said nothing. He just listened to his mother's and brother's conversation as though it did not concern him. After several awkward minutes of silence, he stood up and walked over to a nearly empty decanter of whisky and poured the remaining liquid into a glass. Once he had tossed back his head and downed the contents, he looked at the empty glass with disappointment. The small amount of alcohol had not brought him any comfort, and it had not, in any way, eased the guilt that was eating away at him. He then replaced the glass on the table and walked over to the fireplace so that he could summon Walton. 'Fetch me some whisky,' Alex ordered, once Walton had arrived.

'Wait,' Lord Huntington said before the valet had the chance to leave the room. 'Walton, please could you bring Captain Fallbrook some strong coffee. And do not bother with the whisky,' he added.

Walton looked at the two brothers, not knowing which one he should obey. Sensing his dilemma, Lord Huntington said, 'Walton, remember who pays your wages.'

Walton looked nervously at his master, still unsure about what he should do. 'Forget the whisky,' Alex said, not wanting to argue with his brother, 'just bring the coffee.'

After Walton had left the room, another awkward silence ensued. 'As I said,' his mother eventually said, her shrill voice cutting through the silence, 'you have brought nothing but shame into this family. You have successfully dragged the respectable name of Fallbrook through the mud.'

As he listened to his mother deliver a lengthy speech regarding his conduct, or rather the lack of it, he continued to feel ashamed of himself. He had not bothered to get appropriately dressed to receive his family members, and it now felt wrong to be attired in only an old comfortable pair of breeches and an even older faded silk dressing gown. Alex knew that he looked tired and was starting to look older than his eight and twenty years. His face, though still very handsome, was beginning to show the first signs of the hedonistic lifestyle that he had been indulging in over the past five years. The dark circles under his eyes, a permanent feature on his face, were accentuated by the pale pallor of his cheeks. He was beginning to feel far too old to live the debauched life that he had become famous for living.

As his mother continued to berate him for his lifestyle, he looked down at the floor, not daring to look her in the eye. At least, from what she had said, she only knew a sanitised version of his fall from grace.

'Oh, Alex,' his mother said sadly as she drew her speech to a close, 'how did you ever become embroiled in that man's affairs?'

That man, who his mother was constantly referring to, was Major Ellington. He had met him in Brussels in the build-up to Waterloo, and since his return to England, over a year ago, he had worked for him in order to repay his sizable gambling debts. If his mother only knew a fraction of the despicable things he had done for Ellington, she would leave his rooms immediately and never talk to him again.

'You know why?' Alex said, looking up at her directly for the first time that day.

They had never spoken about the events that had happened five years ago, that had turned him from a happy-go-lucky young man, who was everyone's friend, into the dark degenerate stranger, who cared for no one; not even himself.

'But, Alex,' she said, her eyes full of sadness, looking at her younger son, 'it was five years ago.'

'Mother,' he said, a little too harshly for his own liking, 'one does not forget something like that. It remains, however much you try to forget, with you for a lifetime.'

'When you came home, after being rescued from that dreadful French prison, I was so glad you were alive. I had prayed night after night for your safe return. I thought that with loving care, and a little time at home, you would be well again.' Tears began to well up in her eyes again, 'I never thought the French would mistreat an officer.'

'Mother,' Alex said firmly, 'when I was caught by the French scouting party, I was not wearing a uniform. You do know how they treat their enemies, especially if you are caught spying? I will not go into the details, but it is not at all pleasant.'

'But, please, please tell me,' she said imploringly, 'why did you get yourself embroiled in Major Ellington's sordid business. Your dear brother, Ralph,' she said as she patted her older son's hand, 'has worked tirelessly to make sure that your name has been kept out of the newspapers.'

'Dear Ralph,' Alex said with sarcasm, 'should not have bothered.'

'I did not do it for you, Alex,' Lord Huntington said, unable to hide his anger, 'I did it for our mother. I did not want her to witness her younger son's disgrace. If it were up to me, I would happily watch you hang for what you did.'

'Ralph,' his mother cried, 'how could you say that about your brother?'

'Mother,' Lord Huntington said, anger still evident in his voice, 'if you knew the whole sleazy story, you would not be sitting in the same room as him. You would be too ashamed.'

Their conversation was interrupted by Walton, who was carrying a tray with a coffee pot and three delicate porcelain cups. He put the tray on the table and discreetly left the room. Alex stood up and walked over to the tray and picked up the coffee-pot. He tried to pour the hot liquid into a cup, but his hands were still shaking, due to the amount of alcohol he had drunk the previous evening. 'Let me do that,' Lord Huntington said gently as he took the coffee-pot from Alex's hands. 'Sit down, Alex,' he ordered.

Alex obeyed his brother's command and sat back on the chair he had just vacated. 'Drink this,' his brother commanded as he handed him a cup.

Alex looked over at his mother and felt a stab of guilt. 'I am sorry, Mother,' he said, looking down at the cup he was holding unsteadily in his lap, 'I never meant to hurt you or Ralph.'

This was the first time in five years that Alex had apologised for the pain he had put his family through. He had thought, when he had embarked on his life of self-destruction, that the only person he would ultimately hurt, would be himself. It had never occurred to him that he would have made the very people who loved and cared for him miserable. He had been selfish.

'You will have to leave London, immediately,' Ralph said decisively, 'or at least until the scandal has died down.'

Alex continued to stare at the carpet, holding the half-drunk cup of coffee unsteadily in his hands. 'I will leave for the continent,' he eventually said, 'tonight.'

'No, Alex, not the continent,' his mother said, 'you must stay in England. I suggest a period in the country at one of your brother's estates.' There was another long and painful silence that was interrupted by his mother. 'I have an idea,' his mother said brightly. 'I was talking to my dear friend, Lady Harmsworth. You know her,' she said, turning around to her elder son, 'she is Cynthia's Mama. Cynthia looked charming in that pink muslin dress she wore to her mother's ball, and she has such pretty manners.'

'Mother,' Lord Huntingdon said, interrupting his mother's description of the young lady, 'you have already told me several times, in great detail, of your opinion of Miss Harmsworth.'

Alex looked over at his brother and smiled. 'Is our mother playing matchmaker again?' he said with a grin. 'I would be careful if I were you, Ralph, she will be planning a big wedding in St George's before the next season has even begun.'

Lord Huntingdon, ignoring his brother's teasing words, turned around to his mother. 'Please, ignore Alex. What did Lady Harmsworth tell you?'

'Her nephew,' she began, 'Sir Frederick Sommerville, is looking for a tutor for his ward. I think you would be perfect.'

Alex, who at that moment had been taking a sip of coffee, almost dropped the cup on his lap. 'Me?' Alex answered with a laugh, 'teaching a brat. I do not think that this is one of your brightest ideas. I believe that you are more likely to persuade Ralph to marry the very insipid Miss Harmsworth.'

'I do not see why you cannot,' his mother answered, ignoring her son's insulting words. 'I think you would be perfect. The boy, I believe, is ten years old and lives with his mother and sister in a quiet part of North Yorkshire.'

She looked at Alex, her eyes gleaming with excitement. 'You were always very happy at school. And then you went to Oxford and graduated with a first in Classics. You were such an intelligent little boy, and you always had your nose in some book. You would be perfect.'

'But, Mother,' he said, looking at her, his eyes dancing with amusement, 'I think that you forget that I am, using your own words, a "dissolute libertine." You must admit, as a mother yourself, you would not want your son to learn those particular skills.'

'Oh, Alex,' she said dismissively, 'I know that you would never do that to the boy. You are a gentleman after all, and I know that you can behave like one.'

Alex was amused by his mother's misplaced confidence. He was aware that he was no longer a gentleman, and he had not pretended to be one since he had met Major Ellington. 'Mother,' Alex said, leaning back in his chair and looking at his mother lazily. 'I am afraid that your initial assessment of me was incorrect. I am not a "dissolute libertine," I am far worse. I have partaken in every vice that you can imagine, and many that you cannot. What you saw this morning, in my bedchamber, and the gossip you have heard is nothing to the depths of depravity I have sunk into over the past five years. When you venture that far into the darkness of this world, there is no way back.'

'I refuse to believe you,' his mother said, her eyes bright with tears. 'You are my own dear, dear boy; and I love you with the love only a mother can bestow on her child. I believe that if you can only get away from London, and all those so-called friends that you associate with, you can change. A position in the quiet household of a respectable widow, preparing her son for Eton, would be perfect for you.'

As Alex listened to his mother, he knew that she was right about one thing, he needed to leave London and all the temptations that the capital afforded him. If he carried on down this path, indulging every vice available to him, it would not take long for him to attain what he set out to do five years ago; obliterate his useless, meaningless life from this world. But, looking at his mother and brother, sitting opposite him, he began to realise that would not be fair to them. Since he had arrived back in England, a hero after Waterloo, they had tirelessly tried to help him assimilate back into society. It was not their fault he had spectacularly failed.

'If you do not take this offer,' Lord Huntingdon said earnestly, 'I will have to disown you and cut you off from the family.'

'Oh, no, Ralph,' Lady Huntingdon said, looking distressed at her elder son. 'Surely, it would not have to come to that.'

'Mother,' Ralph said, with the authority that only the head of the family could command, 'I will not have you hurt anymore by him. He cannot carry on with his life as it is and expect me to continue to support him financially. No, Mother, he must make his decision about what direction his life will take. He can either go to Yorkshire and tutor this young lad with our full support, or he can stay in London and, if it were possible, sink even lower into depravity.'

Alex looked over to his mother, who was now crying at the harsh reality of her elder son's words. If he did it for no-one else, he would do it for her. 'I will go,' he said as he looked over to his mother, who was dabbing her cheeks with a handkerchief.

She looked up at him and smiled through her tears. 'Oh, Alex,' she said, 'this is marvellous. I know that you can turn over a new leaf.'

Alex did not have the same confidence as his mother about his abilities to change, but he knew that if he wanted to remain part of this family, he would have to leave London.
Chapter 3

It was a beautifully sunny, unseasonably warm autumn day in the middle of October. When Octavia had looked out of her bedroom window, earlier that morning, she had decided that the children, and their governess Miss Sydenham, would make the most of the fine weather and spend the day outdoors. The days were already becoming noticeably shorter, hinting at the long, bleak winter that lay ahead. She knew that the opportunity to spend the whole day outdoors, enjoying the fresh air and any warmth that the sun provided would soon be a distant memory.

When Octavia had told her twin son and daughter, Charles and Olivia, that lessons would be cancelled for the day, they were both very excited. Any activity, different from the usual routine of the schoolroom, was always greeted with enthusiasm. Octavia did not even feel a twinge of guilt when she noticed Miss Sydenham's disapproving look about the prospect of cancelling her well-planned lessons. Miss Sydenham was an excellent governess, who always treated both children fairly, but she was also a stickler for routine. 'Miss Sydenham, Angela,' Octavia had said privately to her after breakfast, using her given name to make the request feel more personal. 'I hope you do not mind me changing your schedule for the day, but the weather is unseasonably warm, and I think we should make the most of it. Charles' tutor will be arriving tomorrow, and I doubt very much that we will be able to have a day together like this once he arrives.'

Octavia, for the past two weeks, had been dreading the arrival of Charles' new tutor; Captain Fallbrook. Sir Freddie, after corresponding with his aunt, Lady Harmsworth, had arranged everything. The new tutor, who, according to Freddie, had impeccable qualifications, would spend the winter at Northleigh, preparing Charles for school. Octavia, who rarely ventured out in society unless it was in the company of her friend, Katie, was anxious about having a gentleman in her household. Apart from Freddie, of course, her experiences of men had not been positive, and it was the main reason why she closeted herself away from the world.

'I have arranged with cook to have a picnic lunch served on the lawn at midday,' Octavia said to Miss Sydenham. 'Maybe, in the morning,' she continued, her eyes twinkling with excitement, 'we could go into the wilderness and collect some leaves and test Charles and Olivia on the names of the trees they originally came from.'

Miss Sydenham sighed and said, 'very well, my lady. I will bring some reference books with us. I suppose it will not do them any harm to have a day away from the schoolroom.'

'Very well, Miss Sydenham,' she had said, placing her hand on her arm affectionately, 'bring your books.'

At midday, when they had eventually sat down on the large rugs that had been carefully arranged under the cedar tree on the lawn at the back of the house, Octavia was pleasantly surprised at how much fun she had had that morning. Miss Sydenham, with all her dull talk of routines and learning, was a good teacher. She had even involved Octavia in her lesson, and it had reminded her of the happy times she had enjoyed at Hillcroft. Once the substantial lunch of bread and cheese, washed down with copious amounts of fresh lemonade had been demolished, Charles stood up from the rug and said enthusiastically, 'Mama, I think we should have a game of cricket?'

'Oh,' Olivia said, looking doubtfully at her brother, 'I am not sure if I want to play cricket with you. You can be far too competitive, and I do not like it when you get cross with me.'

'Livvy,' he said, 'all you have to do is hit the ball with a bat. I promise I will throw it to you gently.'

'Charlie,' Olivia said hesitatingly, 'I will only agree to play if you promise me that you will not get cross with me if I drop the ball when I am meant to catch it. The last time we played together, you were not very kind to me.'

'Are you sure that a cricket match is really such a good idea?' Octavia said, looking with concern at her two children. Most of the time, the two siblings were the best of friends and did almost everything together. Only occasionally, especially when Charles wanted to play a more boisterous game, did any friction occur between them. 'We could always play another game,' Octavia said, 'how about blind man's bluff, or hide and seek?'

'Mama,' Charles said, his voice full of indignation, 'those games are for little children.'

'But we do not have enough players for cricket,' Octavia said.

'We could ask Mr Millar to come and join us,' Charles said eagerly.

'Livvy, what would you like to play?' Octavia said, looking at her daughter. Octavia did not want Olivia, who was the quieter one out of the two siblings, to feel that she had no say in what activity they chose to do that afternoon.

'Cricket,' Olivia said, caught up in the excitement that Charles had initiated. 'I remember that Mr Millar taught me how to hold the bat, and I managed to hit the ball, on my third attempt,' she said proudly.

Octavia sighed. Her reservations about the game were still in the forefront of her mind, but there was nothing she could say to persuade her children that they should play something else. 'Charles,' Octavia said, 'go and ask Mr Millar if he would like to play.'

It did not take Charles very long to persuade Mr Millar to abandon the task he had begun and played cricket with them instead. Mr Millar, a gardener at Northleigh, was also a serious cricket player and played for the village team during the summer months.

Once the game had begun, Octavia could not help but agree that this had been an excellent idea. Both of her children played the game enthusiastically, and even the rather austere Miss Sydenham joined them. Octavia could not stop herself laughing out loud as the strait-laced governess ran, with enthusiasm, between the wickets.

'Mama, Mama,' Charles shouted, his eyes gleaming with excitement. 'It is your turn to bat.'

Octavia walked over to the crease, trying to look more confident than she actually felt. After she had picked up the bat that had been discarded by the previous player, she tapped it several times on the chalk line that Mr Millar had drawn on the grass and waited patiently for Charles to bowl the hard cricket ball.

'Do not worry, Mama,' Charles said as he threw the ball up and down with one hand, 'I will be gentle.'

Charles threw the ball at the bat Octavia was holding firmly in both her hands. As the ball came hurtling towards her, she drew back the bat and then swiped at the ball as hard as she could. To her surprise, the ball struck the middle of the bat with a satisfying clunk and then hurtled high into the air. 'Catch it, catch it,' Charles shouted as the ball reached the top of its arc and then started to make its descent to the ground. Octavia, recovering from the shock of actually making contact with the ball, dropped the bat, hitched up her skirts and began to run, rather ungainly, towards the opposite end of the crease. As she approached the chalk line at the other end, feeling rather proud of herself, she was surprised to hear Charles yell, 'out!'

When Octavia turned around to see who had caught the cricket ball, still breathless with the exertion from running, she looked in disbelief and a certain amount of embarrassment. A very handsome looking gentleman was standing, watching her with a lazy look of amusement in his eyes. He was tall, far taller than Freddie or her late husband. And even though he was wearing riding clothes that were dusty from the road, she knew that they could only have been made by one of the finest tailors in London. Octavia, to her deep shame, could not look away from his piercing grey eyes, and she felt like everyone else had melted away into the background. As she continued to stare mutely at him, she felt a blush creep into her cheeks as a frisson of awareness ripple through her.

Since her husband's sudden death, almost eight years ago, Octavia had lived the life of a recluse, rarely venturing outside the gates of Northleigh. In fact, she only ever left the boundaries of the estate to attend the Sunday morning service at the village church, or to visit her friend and closest neighbour, Lady Sommerville. She had made the decision to closet herself from the world so that she would not have to be subjected to any unwarranted attention. Octavia knew that her unorthodox marriage to Lord Kendall had resulted in her being the subject of local gossip. And, even though he had died years ago, she knew that her life at Northleigh was still discussed at great lengths in many of her neighbours' drawing-rooms. The self-imposed isolation reduced the discomfort she would have felt if she had been in their company.

There was no pity in his piercing eyes, but there was something else she could not place. She looked down and felt the flush in her cheeks deepen.

'Well caught,' Charles said as he ran over to their visitor.

'Thank you,' the gentleman replied in a well-spoken voice, 'you bowled well.'

'Would you like to join us?' the young lad asked excitedly, 'we could do with another player.'

'I am a little rusty,' he said, smiling at Charles, 'but, I will have a go.'

'Who are you, sir?' Charles said, looking up at the visitor with admiration in his eyes.

'Captain Fallbrook,' the gentleman said, bowing slightly before picking up the bat, 'and I do believe I am to be your tutor.'

Alex had left London over a week ago. As this was to be a fresh start, he had decided to make the long journey to Yorkshire alone. His valet, Walton, who had been in his service since he had arrived back in London after Waterloo had soon found another more lucrative position.

Alex was used to travelling with very few possessions. He had been in military service for most of his adult life and, as a consequence, he had only packed what was absolutely necessary to spend the winter in the North of England. It had felt liberating to leave most of his worldly possessions at his brother's house. As he kept reminding himself throughout the journey, the less he had from his old life, the easier it would be for him to make a fresh start.

There was one possession he could not leave behind. Even though to Alex, he was no possession at all, he was more a faithful companion, who had rescued him from many a scrap. Titus, his large, powerful horse, had been with him, through thick and thin, for the past eight years.

'Come, Titus,' he had said in the horse's ear as he patted his neck, 'only a few miles to go.'

The horse neighed, reared his head in objection and trotted almost daintily on the spot, making Alex aware of his objection to the long journey. 'You have grown far too accustomed to the easy life in London, my friend,' he said with a chuckle, patting his neck affectionately.

It had been an unusually warm, sunny day, and his clothes were dusty from the day's ride. 'I am getting too old for this as well,' he bent down and whispered in Titus' ear. 'I used to ride for days in the hot Spanish sun, with only you for company. I did not hear you complain back then, did I, old man.' The horse reared his head in agreement and began to trot once more down the road that led towards Northleigh.

It was not long until he came across the stone walls that marked the boundary of Lord Kendall's estate. He followed the uneven wall, knowing that if he continued to follow it, he would eventually find the entrance to the estate. He was aware that he was getting close to the entrance because the stone wall soon became a high, red brick wall, no doubt built to keep the local poachers at bay. 'Someone wants to keep the locals out,' he said to Titus.

He was beginning to think that the wall would never end when he eventually came across the main entrance to the estate. As he approached the large, ornate cast-iron gates, an old man, who Alex correctly identified as the gatekeeper, came out of the large house that was next to the gates. 'Afternoon, sir,' he said in a thick Yorkshire burr that Alex could just about understand. Alex could not fully understand the next sentence he uttered, but he guessed it was about why he should be admitted onto the estate. Even though he had commanded men from all over the British Isles, he still marvelled at the vast array of accents that could be found on a relatively small island.

'My name is Captain Fallbrook,' he said, looking down at him from the saddle, 'Lady Kendall is expecting me. I am to be Lord Kendall's tutor.'

The old man shrugged his shoulders. 'Ah 'ope theur last longa 'a' t' last 'un,' he said as he looked up at Alex. He then pointed to the house in the distance. 'Way up yonder, Capteeam, tha'il finn' 'a ladyship theear,' he said gruffly, before opening the gates and letting Alex through.

'Thank you,' Alex said as he passed through the entrance.

As Alex rode up the drive towards the house, he thought that the house looked even grander and imposing than his brother's principal residence in Devonshire. He guessed that the building's façade was modern, probably built in the last fifty years, and no doubt hid its ancient predecessor. The extensive, well-kept grounds that surrounded the house had been carefully designed to lead the eye to the limestone building, with its large Doric columns that held up the impressive central portico. There could be no doubt that the young Lord Kendall would one day control an impressive fortune.

Instead of dismounting Titus and knocking on the large front door, that was no doubt manned by a footman, he rode to the back of the house to where he guessed the stables were located. Once he had arrived at the stables; a young lad came out and looked at Titus approvingly.

Alex dismounted and handed the reigns to the lad. 'His name is Titus. Be careful, he can be a bit feisty.'

'Aye, sir,' the stable boy said as he took Titus' bridle, ''a' is eur fine lookin animal, sir.' He stroked the horse's nose as Alex dismounted. 'Eur theur lookin fert mistress 'n t' young masta?'

Alex nodded, hoping that he had understood him correctly.

'Thee will be ont' lawn, yonda, lakin' crikkit,' he said, pointing to the back of the house. The stable boy then turned his attention to Titus, 'Dooant worry, I'll look afta 'im,' he said, patting Titus on the rump. Titus, who did not usually take kindly to strangers, nuzzled the stable boy with his nose.

Alex left the stables, knowing that Titus was in good hands, and strolled towards the lawn. He heard shouts and laughter before he could see the game. When he eventually rounded the corner, the small party, consisting of two women, two children and a few men, who he guessed to be servants, were playing cricket. As he approached the group, he heard the boy shout with excitement, 'Mama, Mama, it is your turn to bat.' Alex was surprised when the younger and more attractive of the two women in the party, picked up the bat.

During the long journey to Yorkshire, he had had plenty of time to speculate on what he would find once he had reached Northleigh. He had imagined Lady Kendall, the boy's mother, to look like any of the numerous widows he had met in London society. In his experience, widows usually fell into one of two categories. There were respectable widows, like his mother, who were content to remain unmarried after their husbands had passed on. And, of course, there were the widows that enjoyed the intimate companionship of the opposite sex, without demanding any long-lasting commitment. He had rather hoped that Lady Kendall was a member of the latter group and that over the long winter months, he would enjoy the comforts that such a relationship would bring.

The woman who the boy had addressed as "Mama," did not look like she fell into either category. She was of medium height with long brown hair that he guessed that morning had been twisted into a simple chignon, but, due to the physical nature of the game, had fallen from its original position. She wore a simple muslin gown with a high waist that looked cream from a distance, but upon closer inspection, he could see was covered in a small delicate floral pattern. As she pulled back the bat, he was able to see her face clearly. She looked beautiful, as she stared at the bowler, her face fixed intently on the ball. As she hit the ball high into the air and followed its trajectory, her dark-brown eyes sparkling with surprise, he could not stop gazing at her. Once the ball had reached its highest point, she grabbed her skirts and began to run haphazardly towards the other end of the crease, allowing him to catch a glimpse of her well-shaped ankles. He had been almost too busy admiring Lady Kendall, that he nearly missed the cricket ball that was hurtling towards him. But even with the pleasant distraction, he easily caught the ball.

'Out,' he heard the boy shout.

She then turned to look at him, her vibrant brown eyes, the colour of coffee, were full of astonishment. He looked at her using the practised rakish expression that he knew melted the defences of even the most hard-hearted of females. When he saw a faint blush creep into her cheeks, he knew that his smile was arousing her senses as much as she was stimulating his own.

'Thank you,' Alex eventually said managing to take his eyes from her and then throwing the ball back to the boy with precision, 'you bowl well.'

The boy asked him to join the game, and Alex agreed. It had been a long time since Alex had enjoyed a game of cricket, and he was looking forward to joining in with the excitement. As he walked over to the crease, he was aware that the woman was still staring at him, and it pleased him to observe that the glow in her cheeks had not faded. He smiled at her again with the same rakish look, but this time, she turned away from him quickly. 'Who are you, sir?' the young lad asked politely as Alex picked up the bat that had been left by the wickets.

'Captain Fallbrook,' he replied with a bow, 'and I do believe I am to be your tutor.'
Chapter 4

Octavia felt like she had been incredibly rude to the newly arrived Captain Fallbrook. When she had first seen him, all she had done was stand and gape at him like a tongue-tied fool. She had even had to rely on her ten-year-old son to find out who he was, and then introduce him to the rest of the family. If that was not enough to make their guest feel unwelcome, there had also been Miss Sydenham's unhelpful reaction to him. When Charles had politely introduced his governess, she had not made any effort to hide the haughty look of disapproval, she apparently felt towards him. It would not have surprised Octavia if he just turned around and left.

During the half an hour that they played cricket, Octavia did not say anything to him. She was far too embarrassed by her appearance. She was aware that her hair was no longer in its neat chignon and that her day dress was spotted with green blotches that she had acquired when she had fallen over on the grass at the beginning of the game. How was Captain Fallbrook ever going to take her seriously as Charles' mother, if she behaved like a hoyden? She knew that ladies, especially widows, should not be playing cricket in front of the servants. They should be sitting with decorum in the drawing-room reading or improving their needlework skills.

Over the past few weeks, since Freddie had told her about Charles' new tutor, she had tried to imagine what he would look like. She knew that he was an officer and had fought bravely at Waterloo, and she also knew that after the battle, he had sold his commission and returned to London. Octavia had not met many officers, in fact, she had met none. But in her imagination, they were always dressed in their red regimental uniforms and were always very serious. They did not join in cricket games, and they certainly did not look at you with the unmistakable look of laughter in their eyes.

In fact, Octavia was still unsure if his expression was indeed laughter. His almost intense gaze had evoked an unusual reaction of warmth deep within her. It had taken her so much by surprise, that she could still feel her cheeks flush with embarrassment.

When the game finally came to an end, the small party made their way back to the house. Octavia, who, to her own shame, was still tongue-tied, walked across the lawn to the back of the house. As she held her daughter's hand and half-listened to the young girl chattering away about the game, she knew that her own attitude towards Captain Fallbrook would have to change. She gingerly felt her hair that was now almost loose about her shoulders with her spare hand and wondered if she would be able to sneak upstairs and repair the damage the boisterous game had done. But she knew that it would be impossible to leave the stranger alone with just the children and Miss Sydenham. She let go of Olivia's hand and quickly twisted her long hair and pinned it roughly into an untidy bun. It would have to do for the present, she thought to herself, as she took Olivia's hand once more. Now she had tried to put a little order into her unruly hair, all she had to do, was pluck up enough courage to talk to Captain Fallbrook, with the authority and confidence of one who was in charge of their own household. She certainly did not want to repeat any of the unfortunate experiences she had had with Charles' other tutors. She needed him to know that there were conditions attached to his continuing employment, and it would be her, not Freddie, who chose whether he stayed after the probationary period of a month. She wanted him to be in no doubt that she set the rules at Northleigh; no one else.

As she walked behind Charles, who was talking animatedly to Captain Fallbrook about the game they had just played, she began, at last, to feel a little more relaxed. Captain Fallbrook, to his credit, did not look annoyed at the constant barrage of questions that her son was asking him.

Once they had arrived in the drawing-room and Octavia had ordered refreshments to be served, she plucked up the courage to engage him in conversation.

'Captain Fallbrook,' she said, deliberately looking at him in the eyes, 'I am very sorry you have caught us unprepared for your arrival, but we were not expecting you until tomorrow.'

'I should be the one apologising,' he said smoothly, 'the journey took less time than I expected.'

'Did you come by stagecoach?' she asked, trying to keep the conversation between them going.

'No, my lady,' he said politely, 'I rode.'

'You rode,' Charles interrupted with excitement, 'all the way from London. I did not think that was possible,' the young lad said, looking up at Captain Fallbrook with an expression of hero worship on his face.

'I rode on my horse, Titus,' he said, now addressing Charles exclusively, 'he is a big brute, but he can still cover a large distance in one day.'

'I can ride,' Charles said, his voice full of youthful exuberance, 'Uncle Freddie says I have a good seat, but I could not ride for the entire day.'

'I can ride as well,' Olivia, who was sitting close to Octavia, said in a whisper. Even though she was painfully shy, she did not like being left out of the conversation that was presently being dominated by her brother. 'I have my own pony, Twinkle. Uncle Freddie chose her for me.'

'You must show me your pony,' Captain Fallbrook said to Olivia, with a smile.

'I would like that very much,' her daughter said quietly. Octavia had never heard Olivia say so much to a stranger and wondered how he had managed to draw her out of her shell. But she soon realised that Captain Fallbrook had, once more, used his considerable charm on her. As she looked at her daughter, looking at their guest, she could see the same look of admiration in her eyes as she had just seen in Charles' eyes. Captain Fallbrook, in the space of less than an hour, had charmed both her son and daughter. He had even begun to thaw the frosty looking expression on Miss Sydenham's face.

After another half an hour had passed, and all the treats that had been sent up from the kitchen had been eaten, Octavia had finally plucked up the courage to talk to Captain Fallbrook. 'Miss Sydenham,' Octavia said as she stood up and smoothed her skirts, 'please can you take Olivia and Charles to the nursery.'

Miss Sydenham looked at her inquiringly. 'Would you like me to return once the children are settled?'

Octavia knew that Miss Sydenham was a stickler for the rules of society and would not be happy leaving her alone with a gentleman. 'Thank you, Miss Sydenham,' she said politely, 'but that will not be necessary.'

Miss Sydenham ushered the reluctant children out of the drawing-room, leaving Octavia alone with Captain Fallbrook. Once they had left, Octavia sat back down in the chair she had just vacated. As an awkward silence stretched out between them, she looked nervously down at her hands that were clasped tightly in her lap, trying to gather her thoughts together.

'I must apologise,' Octavia eventually said, 'Sir Freddie Sommerville, Charles' guardian, was going to come over tomorrow afternoon to greet you.' She continued to twist her hands nervously together in her lap until her knuckles had turned white. 'We have prepared the Dower house for you, but I believe it will not be ready until tomorrow. I hope you do not mind staying here for the night.'

'No, my lady,' he replied politely, 'not at all.'

'We live very quietly here,' she said awkwardly. 'Our nearest neighbour, Sir Frederick Sommerville and his wife Lady Sommerville, live two miles away at Evesham Hall.'

Octavia felt obligated to fill the uncomfortable silence that filled the room, but her mind went blank, and she could not think of anything of interest to say. That was the problem of being a recluse, one was just not accustomed to entertaining guests at home. Since her scandalous marriage to Lord Kendall, all her closest neighbours, apart from Freddie and Katie, had always looked at her with an odd mixture of pity and suspicion. Therefore, to avoid their curiosity, she had always been content staying within the boundaries of Northleigh, with only her children as company.

'I am pleased that Charles likes you,' Octavia, said, after another long silence. Her son's liking for him was the only thought that sprang to her mind during the long silence.

'Yes,' Captain Fallbrook replied, 'he seems to be a confident young man, and plays cricket very well.'

'I think that it is important for Charles to like you,' she said, 'he will find his lessons so much more enjoyable.' She was aware that she was repeating herself, just to fill the silence.

'It is indeed,' Captain Fallbrook replied as he smiled at her. 'I always have found that it makes life far more enjoyable to actually like the people you are with.'

She looked away from him nervously and could not help the blush that crept into her cheeks. She wished that he did not smile at her like that, or if he had to smile, it did not produce the all too familiar flutter deep within her. He was just trying to charm her, she thought to herself, just like he had charmed Charles and Olivia, and to a lesser extent Miss Sydenham.

Octavia, once more, looked down at her lap as she twisted her hands nervously together. 'Captain Fallbrook,' Octavia said, after taking a deep breath to steady her nerves. She had to compose herself and think very carefully about what she was going to tell him. She needed to inform him of the conditions of his employment. She could not afford a repeat of the incident that had happened when Mr Dowle had been Charles' tutor. With her back straight and her eyes firmly fixed on Captain Fallbrook, she tried to convey a confidence that she was sadly lacking. 'Charles is an intelligent boy, and I will be sending him to Eton next year,' she said. 'It is important for a young man, of his social standing, to have an education that will prepare him for his future. I am afraid you will find him woefully underprepared for school. We that is Miss Sydenham and to a certain extent myself, have tried to provide him with an academic education,' she looked at him now feeling a little more emboldened. 'But I am afraid it is not good enough for the rigours of Eton.'

'I am sure that you have done your best,' Captain Fallbrook said politely.

'I am afraid my best is not good enough,' she said as a matter of fact. 'I will, of course, not interfere with whatever you decide to teach Charles. You will know far better than me what my son will need to know before he goes to school.' Octavia shifted uncomfortably in her chair but kept her back straight, and her eyes fixed on his. 'However, I must insist that you refrain from using any form of physical punishment.'

'Of course, my lady,' he said, 'I will respect your wishes for your son's education.'

Octavia relaxed a little. When she had had the same conversation with Mr Dowle, he had looked at her disdainfully, and then he had tried to argue with her. As she had spoken to him, she had felt like he had treated her with a complete lack of disrespect. It was one of the reasons why she had regularly visited him when he was tutoring Charles. It was reassuring that Captain Fallbrook's attitude towards her request had been very different.

'It is not just an academic education that he needs,' she said, unclasping her hands and smoothing out her skirts. 'Apart from his guardian, Sir Freddie Sommerville,' she said, 'he has grown-up exclusively in the company of women.'

'What about his father, Lord Kendall?' Captain Fallbrook said when her conversation faltered.

'His father died when he was a year old,' she said, trying to sound nonchalant.

'I am sorry,' he said sympathetically.

'Please do not be sorry,' Octavia blurted out. The last thing she wanted was anyone's sympathy. She was certainly not guilty that she had not shed any tears over her husband's death. There had been many times, during the two years that she was married to Lord Kendall, that she had wished him dead. When Freddie had told her about his death, she had felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders; she was free. Octavia, after spending the past eight years trying to forget the past, certainly did not want to talk to a stranger about it. 'My son likes you,' she said, quickly changing the subject, 'I could not help but notice the way Charles looked up at you when you were talking to him. He is at such an impressionable age and needs someone to guide him in how to behave like a gentleman.'

Captain Fallbrook nodded. Octavia noticed that his smile had disappeared and had been replaced by a more wistful look. 'I will do my best,' he said gravely, 'but...'

He stopped speaking rather abruptly. Octavia wondered what he had been going to say and why his demeanour had suddenly changed. 'Nothing,' he eventually said, after a protracted silence. 'Do not worry, Lady Kendall,' he said, the despondent look had now vanished, and he was once more smiling at her, 'I will do my best to guide his lordship.'

'Thank you,' Octavia said. 'You have had a long journey, and you must be exhausted. And we have kept you busy since your arrival.'

'It has been a pleasure to meet you and spend time with your delightful children,' he said. The good-humoured quality to his voice had returned, and he once more looked as charming as he did when she had first met him.

'We keep country hours here,' she said apologetically as she stood up and walked over to the fireplace to ring the bell. 'Because I live here alone, I take my meals with the children and Miss Sydenham. I hope you do not mind joining us. We have dinner at six.'

'Not at all,' he said as he stood up. 'I shall look forward to it.'

Almost immediately, the door of the drawing-room opened, and the butler walked in and waited for his instructions. 'Andrews,' she said confidently, 'please could you show Captain Fallbrook to his room.'

'Yes, my lady,' Andrews said politely, 'please follow me, sir.'

As Alex followed Andrews up the stairs to the bedchamber he had been allocated, he felt an emotion he had not felt for many years, guilt. He had seen the way the boy had looked at him, as though he was some type of hero. When he had first agreed to be Lord Kendall's tutor, he had felt uncomfortable teaching a young lad Latin and Mathematics. However, the feeling of inadequacy he felt about teaching academic subjects, paled into insignificance when he was told that he would also have to be the lad's mentor. No mother, in their right mind, would want him to advise their son on morals. What could he teach him about being a gentleman? Alex knew he was no gentleman. In fact, he had spent the last five years successfully proving to everyone that he was just a washed-up libertine; no good to anyone.

Then there was the problem of Lady Kendall. A widow of eight years should have been a sophisticated woman, but he had found her to be nothing more than an innocent girl. When he had first looked at her, standing on the lawn looking delightfully dishevelled with her dress stained with grass and her hair almost loose, he had gone out of his way to give her a rakish smile. He knew that if she had been an experienced flirt, she would be in no doubt of his intentions. However, instead of answering his flirtatious smile with one of her own, she had just stood staring at him, an innocent blush creeping into her cheek.

Later, when they had been sitting in the drawing-room, she had looked so young and vulnerable. He knew that she had been anxious because while they had been talking, she had kept twisting her hands nervously in her lap until her knuckles had gone white. He had made a mistake coming here. He was no match for this woman. And what could he possibly teach her son about good manners, when he had none of his own.
Chapter 5

'Well?' Katie asked Octavia inquiringly, 'you have been here nearly half an hour, and we have discussed many varied topics, including the weather and my health, but Octavia, you have failed to answer my original question.'

Lady Sommerville, who was ready to give birth to her first child any day now, was lying on a chaise lounge in her day room, looking the very picture of health. On the strict orders issued by the local doctor and taken very seriously by her husband, Katie had not left the grounds of Evesham Hall for about four weeks. Octavia knew that Katie had not been happy about her confinement within the boundaries of the estate, and she had tried to visit her friend nearly every day.

'And what question would that be?' Octavia asked innocently as she sipped at the cup of tea she had just poured for herself.

'Do not play the innocent with me,' Katie said, turning around to look at Octavia. 'It was the first question I asked you this afternoon, and you have avoided answering it by giving me a description of the weather. I really do not give a fig about the weather, there are far more important issues to discuss.'

Octavia looked down at the half-drunk cup of tea and placed it on the side-table next to her chair. 'Katie, I do not think it is appropriate...' Octavia began to say before she was rudely interrupted by her friend.

'Pooh!' Katie said dismissively, 'I think you are hiding something.'

'Katie,' Octavia said indignantly, 'I do not...'

Octavia was interrupted by Katie laughing. 'I think that the lady doth protest too much, methinks.'

'Charles likes him,' Octavia said, ignoring her friend's comment, 'and that is all that really matters.'

'Ah!' Katie replied, 'but I did not ask you if Charles likes him. Freddie is perfectly capable of telling me information like that. I asked you if you like him?'

'He is nice enough, I suppose,' Octavia said, shrugging her shoulders, 'he is always very polite to me when we discuss Charles' progress.'

'My dearest Octavia,' she said, with a big sigh, 'what am I going to do with you. He is "nice enough!" I have never heard anything quite like it. Remember, I have met the very charming Captain Fallbrook, and have concluded, bearing in mind the many words in the English language at my disposal, that "nice," is not the one I would have chosen to use.'

'Katie,' Octavia said primly, 'I have told you that my opinion of Captain Fallbrook is neither here nor there. It is his ability to teach Charles that is important to me.'

'Are you telling me, Lady Kendall,' Katie then said, sitting up as straight as she could, 'that you have not so much as even looked at Captain Fallbrook?'

'Of course, I have looked at him,' Octavia replied frowning, 'how could I not. He comes to the house every day to teach Charles.'

'Well,' Katie said, 'Do you think that he is handsome?'

'I suppose he is,' Octavia replied, trying to sound calm, but she could not help the faint blush that crept into her cheeks.

'Ha!' Katie explained gleefully, 'you are blushing. Now I know you are being evasive. No one, in their right mind, who has seen Captain Fallbrook in the flesh, would describe him as just handsome. Octavia, he is so much more than handsome, he is gorgeous.' Katie looked at her friend, a hint of triumph in her eyes. 'And, Octavia, I can tell just by looking at you that you have seen it for yourself.'

Octavia looked down and noticed that she was clasping her hands tightly in her lap. It was becoming a habit; a habit she had acquired since the arrival of Captain Fallbrook. Octavia took a deep breath and consciously unclasped her hands and spread them out on her lap, so they were not touching each other.

'When you first described Captain Fallbrook to me, after he came to Northleigh two weeks ago, I thought, from your description, that he was going to be a nondescript man, not worth a second look. It was not until I eventually met him, a few days ago, that I realised how wrong you had been. His grey eyes, the ones you described as ordinary, were piercing. I was expecting a man who would blend into a room, not the extraordinarily attractive man that walked into my drawing-room. He almost took my breath away.'

'Katie,' Octavia said outraged. 'What would Freddie say if he heard you?'

Katie laughed again. 'I have told Freddie what I think of the captain, and he agrees with me. But, never mind my opinion of him. What do you think of him?'

Octavia picked up the cup of tea, she had put on the side-table and began to drink it. 'I have already told you, he is an excellent teacher, and Charles likes him.'

'Have you kissed him yet?' Katie asked excitedly.

Octavia nearly dropped the cup that she was holding. As it was, the cup fell onto the saucer with a clatter, spilling some of the tea onto her lap. 'No!' She replied emphatically, 'I have not.'

'That is a shame,' Katie replied, sounding disappointed. 'I was hoping that a man of his experience would have kissed you by now. It has been two weeks. If he does, kiss you, that is, promise me you will tell me all about it.'

'Katie,' Octavia said, shocked by her friend's words, 'he is my son's tutor. I do not think it at all appropriate to even think of ... kissing him.'

'There you are, once more, using the word appropriate,' Katie said in despair. 'You have shut yourself away for far too many years. It is time you started to have a little fun.' Katie sighed and said, 'please tell me that he is at the very least flirting with you?'

Octavia put the cup and saucer back onto the side-table. 'Honestly, Katie,' she said, resisting the urge to clasp her hands together, 'I do not know. I do not think I have ever flirted with anyone.'

'That is because, for the past eight years, you have closeted yourself away from the rest of the world in Northleigh. I know your marriage was not happy, but you must at least think about returning to society,' Katie said, her voice becoming more serious. 'When my confinement is over, I will insist that you come with me to visit the neighbours. In the spring, we could even attend an assembly in Harrogate or York.'

'Katie, I cannot,' Octavia said, her voice barely audible.

'I will insist,' Katie said adamantly. 'You must, even if you only do it for Charles and Olivia's sake. In eight short years, Olivia will be eighteen years old. She will have to go to London for the season, and she will need her mother to escort her to all the society functions that a young woman must attend to make her introduction into the ton. Of course, you could always employ a chaperone to take her. But, take it from me, a chaperone, however good their intentions may be, can never take the place of your own mother.'

When Katie had first arrived at Evesham Hall, as Freddie's wife, she had told Octavia of her final, almost disastrous season in London. If it had not been for Freddie, she would have been ruined.

'And, of course,' Katie then said, 'you must think of yourself. You were never introduced to society, were you?'

Octavia sighed. 'No, Katie,' she said sadly, 'Kendall never took me to London. After the twins were born, he went by himself. And that was when he...' Octavia did not finish her sentence. What she was going to say, was that was when he died. 'Well, never mind,' she said dismissively. 'It happened a long time ago, and in the end, I was glad that he was a foolish and reckless man. Who would have thought that his impetuous nature would eventually work out in my favour?'

'You must break free from the shadow of his death,' Katie said impulsively. 'I know that Kendall's death was scandalous and that the ton still gossips about it. But, if you went to London for the season, it would not take long for their wagging tongues to tire. No doubt, another scandal will soon come along, and you will be forgotten. You are still young, and you could always marry again,' she said, her voice excited as though the thought of her friend's remarriage had only just occurred to her.

'I will never marry again,' Octavia said firmly, 'you have heard the saying "once bitten, twice shy."'

'Not everyone is like Kendall,' Katie said in protest. 'If only you could find someone like Freddie.'

'Freddie is the exception to the rule,' Octavia said, 'I could never find anyone as kind and as good-natured as Freddie. It does not matter anyway, I can never go to London,' Octavia added, 'what if I met my brother? I never want to see him again, and I certainly do not want the children to have anything to do with him.'

'I doubt very much if your brother ever attends ton gatherings. He is far too much of a loose screw for polite society. Last time he came here looking for money, Freddie sent him away with a flea in his ear. He would not dare approach you again.'

'But I still do not want to risk meeting him,' Octavia replied.

'If you stayed with us in our London townhouse,' Katie replied, 'you would be perfectly safe. Even if he found out you were staying with us, there would be very little he could do to you or the children. You would be under our protection.'

'I could not put you to all that trouble,' Octavia replied.

'Nonsense,' Katie replied emphatically, 'it would be no trouble at all.'

'Anyway,' Katie said, after a short silence, 'you have successfully changed the subject from Captain Fallbrook.'

'I did nothing of the sort,' Octavia said indignantly, 'you were the one that was insisting that I attend more social functions and come to London with you.'

'Where was I?' Katie said, looking up at the ceiling and ignoring Octavia's protest, 'I remember. We had established that you do not think Captain Fallbrook is flirting with you. However, you have also admitted that you would not be able to recognise the signs even if he was.'

Octavia could not think of anything to say in reply to her friend's comment, she just sat quietly, trying to resist the urge to twist her hands nervously together in her lap. Since she had felt that first frisson of awareness, when he had looked at her for the first time on the lawn outside Northleigh, she suspected that he knew that he had initiated that response in her.

Ever since his arrival, Octavia had relived that moment, over and over again, trying to make sense of that feeling of awareness. As she thought about it, she still could not comprehend how a man, a stranger, could have had such a profound and dizzying effect on her. Even now, just over two weeks later, she felt tongue-tied and gauche in his presence, and she still did not dare to even glance up at him. She did not know why, they only ever discussed Charles and his education, and, since that first afternoon in the library, they had not even been alone together in the same room.

And now, Katie, her only real friend, was quizzing her on her feelings, when she did not even know them herself. Of course, Katie would then offer her opinion and her own unique advice of the situation. But how could she trust Katie? Katie was and had always been a romantic. She believed in love, romance and a happily ever after. Not only did she believe in what Octavia thought were airy-fairy principles, but she also believed that the perfect person was waiting for you and that all you had to do was wait until fate delivered them to your threshold. Unfortunately for Octavia, Katie's confinement had given her more time to think about her friend's future, and the sudden appearance of Captain Fallbrook at Northleigh had only fuelled her imagination. Octavia knew that her friend had begun to concoct all sorts of dreams, regarding her future with him.

But Octavia, naïve as she was about love, was also curious about its effects. She had witnessed the love that Freddie and Katie shared, so she knew that it must exist. She had seen the gleam in Katie's eyes whenever her husband entered the room, she had also seen the tenderness that they shared, and she knew that there was a deep intimacy to their relationship, that was different from any other. Octavia longed to know what it was like to be loved, even if it would only be for a brief moment, and not the happily ever after that, Katie was hoping for her.

'Do you like him?' Katie asked, after a protracted silence.

'Of course,' Octavia replied, a little reserved, 'he is always very polite...'

Katie interrupted her. 'Octavia, you know full well that is not what I meant. Let me ask you a different question. Do you think that he is handsome?'

Octavia nodded. 'Yes,' she said quietly, 'he is indeed very handsome.'

'When he looks at you,' Katie said, feeling emboldened, 'do you feel anything?'

'Yes, I feel shy and tongue-tied,' Octavia said, 'and I never quite know what to say to him.'

'That is encouraging,' Katie said confidently, 'but does he make you feel anything deeper inside? Like a warmth here,' she said, touching the lower part of her swollen abdomen.'

Octavia blushed. 'Yes,' she said in a whisper, looking down at her lap, 'he does.'

'Famous,' Katie said, clapping her hands together, 'I knew you liked him, I just did not know how much you did.'

'But, Katie,' Octavia said, in some distress, knowing that her friend now imagined a romantic attachment that could not exist, 'it is wrong to have feelings like this. He is my son's tutor.'

'Pooh!' Katie exclaimed dismissively. 'It is not wrong; it is only natural to have feelings like that for a handsome man. You should act upon them.'

'How?' Octavia said.

'Do you look at him when he talks to you?' Katie said, 'I would wager you do not.'

Octavia shook her head. 'No, I cannot,' she said quietly.

'You should,' Katie said, 'if nothing else, it will make you look more confident. How will he take you seriously if you cannot even look at him in the eye? This week, when you talk to Captain Fallbrook about Charles, I want you to look directly at him. Please, whatever you do, do not stare at your feet and mumble into your chest.'

'I do not know,' Octavia said hesitantly, 'would I not be a little forward, if I look at him directly? I do not want him to think that I am in any way fast.'

'You would have to do a lot more than just looking at a man for him to think that,' Katie said, almost in despair. 'Really Octavia,' she said, 'you must have a little more confidence in yourself. It is perfectly normal, for a woman to look at a man during a conversation, without him thinking that she is "fast." It is also perfectly normal for a woman to smile at a man when she talks to him, and for him to smile back at her. It is also acceptable for you to speak to him about something other than Charles' education. You should ask him about London or his military service. You may find, before too long, that you are actually engaging him in conversation.'

Octavia looked down at her lap, especially her fingers that she was desperately trying not to knot together.

'Octavia,' Katie said, as a command, 'next time I see you, I want you to have engaged him in a conversation that is not about Charles' education. Remember, men do like talking about themselves, so there should be no difficulty getting him to converse with you.'

Octavia nodded. 'I will try,' she said, trying to sound confident.

'Good,' Katie replied. 'And if he does offer you his arm, or touch you in any way, do not recoil. And, if he does flirt with you again, just enjoy it. Even if Captain Fallbrook does not turn out to be your Prince Charming, at least enjoy his company. Please, Octavia, do this for me.'

Octavia nodded again, 'I will.'

'Good,' Katie said emphatically, 'please could you pour me another cup of tea. Discussing your potential relationship with Captain Fallbrook has made me very thirsty.'
Chapter 6

Alex had been at Northleigh two weeks, and to his surprise, he had found tutoring the young lad a rather enjoyable experience. After a week of working with the young Lord Kendall, he discovered that he was a bright, intelligent student, who was always eager to please his tutor. He had even started to look forward to the morning sessions in the library at Northleigh. He felt that they gave his life a purpose that had been lacking since he had left the army. He was also surprised to find that he did not miss the life of dissipation he had left behind him in London. Instead of drinking and gambling, and living the life of a rake, he spent his evenings either at the Dower House or the library at Northfield, sitting quietly by the fire, reading and preparing lessons for the following day. If any of his associates could see him now, they would barely recognise the scoundrel that left London just three weeks ago.

Alex quickly acknowledged Lady Kendall's worries regarding her son's readiness for school. The boy had grown up in a household run exclusively by women. And, even though they loved him and had his best interests at heart, it did not take Alex long to discover that if the lad were to be removed from the loving environment of Northleigh, he would find it difficult to stand up for himself. It did not help that the boy looked small for his age. Sometimes other boys, especially in the all-male environment of Eton, could be cruel. Therefore, over the coming months, he needed to teach the boy how to stand his ground and ultimately not succumb to the bullies' threats that he would no doubt encounter when he went away to school.

Over the past two weeks, he had worked hard to gain the boy's trust. He had answered, as honestly as he could, every question the boy had asked him about his time as a cavalry officer. He knew that once the boy had confidence in him, he would be able to teach him the subtler points of self-defence. However, to instruct the boy effectively, he needed the full support of Lady Kendall. But, he was still unsure, after his initial talk with her in the library, if she would allow him to teach her son anything that involved violence.

During his evenings alone in the Dower house, he had often wondered why Lady Kendall had been vehemently against the use of physical discipline. Alex could see no problem with using it himself. When Alex had been a young boy, he had been regularly punished by his father for getting into one scrape or another, and he had seen the punishment as part of growing up. Young boys, who were prone to creating all kinds of mischief, when caught must learn to face the punishment, however fierce, like a man. But Lady Kendall had made her opinion of discipline very clear and did not allow any form of physical chastisement in her household.

He had also discovered that Charles' former tutor, the rather dower Mr Dowle, who he had met in the village on the morning after his arrival, had been dismissed because he had used the cane on the boy. Sir Freddie, Charles' guardian, had reiterated Lady Kendall's request and had made it clear that he would be dismissed if he broke this stipulation of his employment. He had been told in no uncertain terms, by Sir Freddie himself, that Mr Dowle had been dismissed not only because he ignored the orders of the boy's mother, but also of his guardian as well. However, it still left him puzzling over why they had both been so averse to the use of physical chastisement.

If they did not allow any physical chastisement in the household, would they permit him to instruct Charles in the finer points of self-defence? He would dearly like to teach the boy to box, and maybe even to fence. However, he needed permission from Lady Kendall and Sir Freddie before he could do either. And he was not at all confident that either of them would give him their consent.

Until he had talked with Lady Kendall and had gained her consent, he would continue to build a relationship with the boy. There were many attributes a young man, in Lord Kendall's position, needed to learn. After morning lessons, Alex had started to take his pupil outdoors in the afternoon. Not only had he given him some riding lessons, but he had also taken him to visit his rather ancient estate manager, Mr Crabtree. When they had been out viewing the farms associated with Northleigh, Alex had talked to him about the importance of running the estate efficiently. He had told him that many families relied on the smooth-running of the estate for their livelihood. And Alex had told him that as a landowner, he would be responsible for all the people working on his land.

The irony of giving Charles guidance, about carefully managing his own affairs, was not lost on Alex. It was similar advice, from his brother's lips, that he had successfully ignored over the past five years. He had carelessly lost the small but prosperous estate, he had inherited upon the death of his father, in a high stakes card game two years ago. And now, he had nothing to his name apart from a mountain of unpaid debts.

'Would you like to go fishing today?' Alex had suggested to his pupil on an unusually bright and sunny autumn day. 'It would be a shame to stay indoors or lock ourselves away in Mr Crabtree's office on such a lovely day.'

'Yes, sir,' Charles said enthusiastically, looking up at him with excitement in his eyes. 'I would like that very much. Uncle Freddie used to take me and Olivia fishing, but he has been far too busy recently.'

'Can your sister fish?' Alex asked.

'Yes,' he replied, 'she was rather good at it, and she always caught more than I did.'

'Shall we ask her to join us,' Alex said. He had never invited Charles' sister on one of their excursions. She was a quiet girl, who always seemed happy to remain in the schoolroom with her governess Miss Sydenham, whenever he was at the house.

'We could ask Mama as well,' Charles said, 'she came with us the last time when we went with Uncle Freddie. But I do have to warn you, Mama is terrible. Uncle Freddie got quite impatient with her and eventually asked her to stop. He said that when she cast off, she frightened most of the fish away.'

Alex laughed. 'We will invite Lady Kendall, even if she scares all the fish away.'

Since Alex had arrived at Northleigh, he had been looking for an excuse to engage Lady Kendall in conversation. Apart from their initial brief meeting in the library, where they had talked about what she expected from him as a tutor for her son, and the daily briefing she had with him about Charles' progress, they did not talk. It had been his fault. Alex had declined the invitation to dine at Northleigh in the evenings. He had thought, after that first awkward dinner, he had had at the main house, that he would prefer to dine alone in the Dower house or, on the odd occasion when the cook had an evening off, at the village inn. Even though he enjoyed his evenings alone reading by the fire, he occasionally regretted his decision. It would have been the perfect opportunity for him to talk to her about Charles.

'Let us go and ask Mama,' Charles had said as they left the library.

After breakfast, Lady Kendall could always be found in the morning room. Charles went confidently to the door and knocked on it loudly. 'Come in,' he heard Lady Kendall say. Charles immediately opened the door, and Alex followed him into the room.

The morning room was small compared to the other rooms on the ground floor at Northleigh and was situated at the back of the house. It overlooked the lawn that they had played cricket on the day of his arrival. It was a feminine room that had been decorated with the lady of the house in mind. The walls were covered in silk wallpaper with a delicate floral design in light pastel shades. All the ornaments were stylish and were arranged tastefully throughout the room. Large sash windows allowed copious amounts of bright morning sunshine to flood into the room. Alex concluded that it was the perfect room for a lady, like Lady Kendall, to spend the morning.

When they entered the room, Lady Kendall looked up at them from behind the small rosewood writing desk she was sitting behind. She put down the letter she was about to open and smiled affectionately at her son. 'Good morning, Mama,' Charles said brightly as he walked over to his mother. When he approached, she bent towards him, and he kissed her lightly on her cheek.

'Good morning, Charles,' she said, still smiling at him as she straightened up. It was apparent to Alex that she loved the boy. There was an unmistakable look of fondness in her eyes as she looked at her son. 'Good morning, Captain Fallbrook,' she said, turning around to look at him, her warm smile faltering as she caught his eye.

As Alex stood by the door looking at her, he realised that he had forgotten just how lovely she looked when she smiled. It struck him that he would do anything to be a recipient of one of those smiles. 'Is there anything wrong?' she then said, a frown creeping across her forehead.

'Oh no, Mama,' Charles said excitedly. 'This morning, Captain Fallbrook has suggested that we should go fishing. It is such a lovely day, and we have both been working very hard.'

'I think that is a splendid idea,' Lady Kendall said, smiling once more at her son. 'I will tell the cook to prepare a picnic lunch for you both. Then you do not need to be in a hurry to get back.'

'Thank you, Mama,' Charles said politely, 'Captain Fallbrook also suggested that we bring Olivia along with us. She has been cooped up in the schoolroom, with Miss Sydenham, ever since the cricket match. I think it would do her good to get some fresh air. And I know that she likes fishing.'

'That was very thoughtful of you,' Lady Kendall replied, looking at her son tenderly, 'I know that Olivia would like that very much. But,' she said as she glanced over nervously at Alex, 'have you asked Captain Fallbrook if he minds her accompanying you?'

When did he, a hard-hearted libertine, ever think that a shy glance, from a virtuous woman, could be alluring? But she looked stunning as she furrowed her brow, looking at him with an expression full of uncertainty. He began to wonder if she was more experienced in the art of flirtation than she first led him to believe. Did she know how delightful she looked sitting at her desk watching him with her big brown eyes? Or was it a practised coquettish look that she regularly used to steal the heart of an unsuspecting victim. Alex, of course, knew that he had no heart to steal, but he was curious about the woman who was still looking at him, no doubt hiding, like himself, behind a carefully constructed mask. He decided that he would enjoy finding out what type of woman lay behind those beautiful brown eyes. He knew that whatever he found, whether it was a modest, chaste woman or a sensual temptress, he would do all in his power to discover who she really was.

He was awoken from his reverie by Charles' voice. 'Captain Fallbrook wants you to join us as well,' Charles said as he stood in front of his mother's desk, unable to hide his excitement for the unexpected treat. 'And I think that it is a marvellous idea.'

'I do not know?' Lady Kendall replied cautiously after a brief pause. Alex knew that she had been tempted by the offer, but he could not determine why she had been so reluctant to join them? His experience told him that a fashionable lady, especially a widow of many years, usually portrayed a certain ennui. Any enthusiasm, especially for an outdoor activity, would not be considered fashionable. But there again, she could be genuinely shy about the prospect of spending time in his presence. Over the past two weeks, he had observed that she had not lived the usual life of a bored widow, who was whiling her life away in the country. 'I have a lot to do this morning,' she said, after another brief lull in the conversation. 'I need to see Mr Crabtree this morning.'

'It is Wednesday,' Charles said, 'and Mr Crabtree always goes to Harrogate on a Wednesday morning.'

'I still do not think it would be wise for me to go,' Lady Kendall replied, 'I have letters to write.' Alex noticed that throughout the conversation she was having with her son, she was trying to avoid catching his eye. He was aware that she had glanced over at him several times, with her large bright eyes, but she had quickly looked away when she realised that he was looking at her. He still could not determine whether this was some practised rouse to make him utter some gallantry that would convince her to come. However, before he could think of a gallant reply, Charles spoke up.

'Oh, Mama,' Charles said, 'please do not make any more excuses. It is such a glorious morning, and I do not think that you should waste it, sitting indoors at your desk. You can see Mr Crabtree this afternoon when he gets back from town. Please, Mama, join us.'

'I will come,' Lady Kendall said reluctantly, 'but only to watch.'

'Famous,' the young lad said eagerly. 'I will go and tell Olivia, and then I will fetch the equipment we need to go fishing.' Before he could excuse himself, he left the room to go in search of his sister.

Lady Kendall then looked up shyly at Alex, and he could not help but notice the faint flush that had crept into her cheeks. She looked lovelier than ever, with her dark brown eyes framed by long lashes. She put the letters, she had received that morning, into a neat pile and put them into the drawer of her desk. 'I better go and find Miss Sydenham and give her the day off,' she said quietly as she stood up. 'Then I will go to the kitchen and ask the cook to prepare us a picnic lunch.'

'With your permission, my lady. I will go to the stables and ask one of the grooms to prepare the gig,' Alex said.

She walked away to the desk and towards the door. As she passed Alex, who was still standing near the door, she paused and said to him. 'Thank you. But, there is really no need for you to take Charles fishing and certainly no reason for either Olivia or me to join you.'

'I would disagree,' Alex said. 'You asked me, during our first conversation in the library, that you wanted me not only to teach your son the necessary knowledge to prepare him for school. You also asked me to instruct him to behave like a gentleman.'

He could see that she was looking at him with a puzzled expression on her face. 'A fishing trip, with his mother and his sister?' she said, her brow furrowed. 'How will that help him?'

'Why not?' he said, answering her with a smile. 'Can you think of a better way to teach him how to behave in front of ladies?'

Lady Kendall sighed and then nodded. 'Yes,' she said, 'you are right.'
Chapter 7

'It is a lovely day, is it not?' Octavia said to Captain Fallbrook as she drove the gig through the front gates of Northleigh and onto the main road. He then smiled at her, and she felt even more aware of him sitting next to her.

When they had arrived at the stables, only half an hour after the trip was first proposed by Charles, he had insisted that she should drive the gig. She had found it strange that he had been so determined for her to drive. In her experience, most men, including Freddie, would have taken the reigns without even asking her permission. But Octavia was soon learning that he was unlike any other man she had ever met, not that over the past eight years she had met many. And now, as she drove the gig steadily down the lane, he sat next to her with his body almost, but not quite, in contact with hers. Even though they were not touching, she was acutely aware of him. She moved across further towards the edge of the gig, to put a little distance between them, but it did not help. When this tactic failed, she had tried to take her mind of his presence, by engaging him in a conversation, regarding the weather.

'Indeed, it is, my lady,' he replied, it is the perfect day for fishing.'

But before she had time to think of a suitable response, the right wheel of the gig hit a rut in the road, and the vehicle lurched violently to the left. All her efforts to avoid any contact with him were destroyed, when Octavia was thrown unceremoniously against him. His arm came around her shoulder to steady her, and to her embarrassment, she found that she was pressed up against him. She looked up at him and discovered that he was looking at her with a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. Octavia blushed, but it was not just embarrassment that had made her cheeks flush, there was that frisson of awareness that she always seemed to feel when she looked at him. Realising that she was about to lose control of the gig, she pulled her scattered thoughts together and pulled sharply on the horse's reigns, thus avoiding any impending disaster.

'I shall enjoy watching Charles and Olivia have a little fun,' she said, once the horse had begun to trot confidently again and she had, once more, regained control of her wayward feelings. 'I do like them to spend a little time outdoors every day, enjoying the fresh air.'

'I also hope to see you try your hand at fishing,' he said as he sat back and relaxed.

Over the past few days, Octavia had been thinking about what Katie had said to her. And as a consequence, she had not slept well since taking tea with her friend. It had not taken her long to realise that Katie's assessment of her situation had not only been insightful but accurate. As Octavia had mulled over what Katie had said, she knew what she had to do. She must try and break free from the spectre of her late husband, that had followed her around Northleigh for the past eight years. When he had died, she had tried to obliterate those painful memories of him by making her children the centre of her life. It was slowly dawning on her, that all the love she had lavished upon them, had not diminished her own torment. In fact, overprotecting them and keeping them locked away from the world outside Northleigh, was probably damaging their own chances of happiness.

It had come as a shock to realise that to completely cut herself off from her neighbours, had been a mistake. Her children needed friends, and she had shunned the very people that could have provided them with that friendship. Then, of course, there was the problem of Olivia's future. Katie had been right; how could she entrust something so important as her come out to a stranger? It had upset her to realise that shutting herself away in the safety of Northleigh, had been not only selfish but naïve. In the future, Olivia would need her mother's advice and protection, not her fear of society and their approval. How could she look after her precious daughter, if she did not accompany her into society?

She must learn to be more confident in the company of other people, and what better time to put that into practice than the present. She then sat up straight and did not shy away from him, even when the motion of the gig, once more, threw them briefly together.

'No,' she said firmly, 'I told Charles, back at the house when he first suggested the trip, that I would not be taking part myself. I will just sit and watch.'

'Coward,' he said, his voice full of mischief.

'I am not a...' Octavia was unable to finish her indignant reply because the left wheel of the gig hit a rather large rock on the road. She was thrown against him, and for a moment, she felt so embarrassed that she forgot everything that she had told herself about being confident in his presence. Conscious that she was not concentrating on what she should be doing, but rather engaging with him in a petty argument, she quickly came to her senses and regained control of the gig by pulling on the horse's reigns. Once the startled horse had been calmed and was again trotting happily, she focused her attention back on the road.

They were soon at their destination, that was only a couple of miles from Northleigh. Octavia carefully guided the gig into the adjoining field that led down to the riverbank. 'Here we are,' she said, turning around to look at the children who were sitting behind her.

Once they had all alighted from the gig, Captain Fallbrook detached the horse from its harness and secured the animal to a tree, using a long length of rope. The horse looked rather happy with the location that had been chosen for him, and he began to munch happily upon the long, lush grass that he had found on the verge of the field. Once Captain Fallbrook had dealt with the horse, he returned to the gig and began to gather together the fishing equipment they had brought with them. 'We can leave the picnic basket and collect it when we get hungry,' he said as he began to stride towards the river. The children, who had been happily chattering away behind them for most of the journey, trotted after him excitedly towards the riverbank.

Octavia had taken along with her the woollen rug that they had brought for the picnic. She carefully laid it down on a dry piece of grass, close to the riverbank so she could see the small party fish. The bright autumn sunshine was surprisingly warm for the time of year, and before sitting down, she decided to remove both her bonnet and pelisse. Once she had seated herself, she stretched out on the rug and lifted her face towards the warm autumn sunshine and closed her eyes. The children were obviously enjoying themselves, and under the tutelage of Captain Fallbrook, they were soon catching fish. Octavia was content sitting and listening to them occasionally squeal with delight whenever they caught a fish.

As she watched them laughing with their instructor, she could not help but like him. He was not only good at teaching the children, but he was also patient and kind. No question they asked was too trivial for him to answer. He supervised and instructed them with good humour and grace. Not once did he raise his voice or sound in any way annoyed with them. She found, to her surprise as the morning progressed, that she was indeed enjoying herself.

'Now it is your turn,' Captain Fallbrook said to her as she was still deep in thought. To her surprise, she had found that he had walked over to the rug where she was seated.

'My turn?' she said, looking up at him and shielding her eyes from the bright autumnal sunlight. 'I told you that I was not going to join in.'

'Yes, my lady,' he said as he smiled at her. 'I am aware of all the excuses you have given this morning, but we have all decided that they will not do, and none of us will take no for an answer.'

Both Charles and Olivia had joined him and were standing next to him. 'Come on, Mama,' they both said in unison.

He held out his hand, and she took it in hers and allowed him to pull her gently to her feet. She looked at him as he held her hand a little longer than he should, and she could feel a blush creep into her cheeks. As he held onto her fingers, she began to feel that familiar frisson of awareness ripple through her. 'I am quite happy watching you,' she said.

'And, I am quite happy watching you,' he replied, his hand still holding onto her fingers. 'But it would be easier for me to see you if you were standing next to me. I find that I am constantly craning my neck, turning around to look at you.'

She unclasped her hands and looked at her feet as she brushed invisible creases nervously from her skirts. She realised that not only was he flirting with her, but he was also doing it in front of the children. Not that they seemed to mind in the slightest. They were finding their banter amusing.

'Mama,' Charles then said, amusement in his voice, 'you must join us.'

Octavia sighed in resignation. Had she not decided earlier that she must make more of an effort to be sociable? Today, she was not going to be the shy and reserved Lady Kendall. No, she was going to live life to the full and have a little fun. 'If I must,' she said, looking up at Captain Fallbrook mischievously, 'but if you do not catch anything else today, you are not allowed to blame me.'

'Come on then,' he said as he strode off back to the river.

Octavia followed him and stood at the edge of the river next to her daughter. Captain Fallbrook then handed her a fishing rod. 'Let's see if you really are as bad as you say you are,' he said, merriment in his voice.

She took the rod gingerly from him, and ever so gently cast off. The hook landed with a plop in the water, not too far from where they were standing. She turned around and saw that Captain Fallbrook was laughing at her. 'Well,' she said, in a superior voice as she pulled back on the rod to retrieve it from the water, 'I did warn you. I could never cast it into the middle of the river.'

'I will have to show you how it is done,' Captain Fallbrook said.

Octavia held out the rod and line to him, but he shook his head. 'I will guide you,' he said as he walked over to stand behind her.

Octavia knew what he was about to do. She had, for some time, been watching him teach her two children using the same technique. He was going to stand directly behind her, wrap his arms around her, and then place his hands on hers. Once he was in position, he would guide her movements as she pulled the rod back behind them. As he stood behind her, she felt a frisson of awareness surge through her in anticipation of his touch. It would be the first time, since her husband's death eight years ago, that she would have had any deliberate close physical contact with a man. Octavia shut her eyes and hoped that he was not aware of the maelstrom of emotions that were beginning to rage through her.

'Relax,' he whispered in her ear as he drew a little closer to her and gently squeezed her hands 'and open your eyes.' Octavia obeyed his command. 'Good, that's better,' he said, 'I will guide your movement. Then you will know what to do next time.'

He pulled back her arms and then cast the line into the middle of the river. Immediately, he let go of her. 'Hold it still,' he said as he took a step back from her, 'and wait.'

Octavia was speechless. Even though he was standing several yards away from her, she could still feel the warmth of his body against hers and smell the masculine musky fragrance of his cologne. In those brief moments, when he held her in his arms, she had felt that initial frisson of awareness was beginning to develop into a warmth within her core. If her children had not been present, she could have easily melted into his embrace. This was it, she realised, this was what Katie had been trying to tell her about the other day.

A tug on her line woke her up from her wayward thoughts. 'I have caught something,' she called out excitedly.

'Gently, Mama,' Charles advised, 'do not tug at the line.' Octavia thought that she was already following her son's instructions, but she heard Charles call out again. 'Mama,' he said a little more urgently, 'gently.'

Suddenly, and to her surprise, she felt the arms of Captain Fallbrook come around her once more. She felt his hands resting firmly on hers, as he began to once more guide her movements. 'Slowly,' he said, whispering in her ear, 'you do not want to lose it.'

She relaxed and leaned against him as his hands expertly guided her movements. In the ensuing excitement of landing the fish, she turned around and looked at him, and she could not help smiling at him. When he returned her smile, he gently pulled her a little closer, so that her back was touching his chest, and she could feel the warmth of his body against hers. That moment, when they touched, had felt wonderful, and quite unlike anything she had ever experienced. As he helped her reel the fish out of the water, she leant further into him and was entirely lost in the wonder of that moment.

As the end of the line came into view, they both began to laugh. The fish, attached to the end, was tiny and there was a big bundle of weeds caught in the hook. As they swung the rod over to the bank, Charles reached up and took their meagre catch. 'Mama,' he said laughing, 'all that effort just for that!'

'I did warn you,' she said, her eyes sparkling with laughter, 'that I was terrible.'

Charles unhooked the small fish and placed it carefully back into the river. 'I think, Mama,' Olivia now said, 'you should leave the fishing to the experts.'

'I think I shall, my love,' Octavia said to her daughter as she gave the rod back to her son, 'now I have demonstrated my ineptitude, I will retire. Anyway,' she then announced to everyone, 'I am starting to get hungry. Shall we stop for lunch?' At this suggestion, the fishing equipment was quickly abandoned, and they walked over to the rug.

It may have been late October, but the sun, even though it was low in the sky, still felt warm. They sat on the rug eating the hearty lunch that cook had provided and talked light-heartedly about the morning they had spent in each other's company. Once everyone had eaten their fill, Octavia packed up the remains of the food into the basket.

Once everything had been packed away, the children, not wanting to stay inactive for long, returned to the river and continued to fish. Octavia and Captain Fallbrook sat on the rug in silence, watching the two siblings happily amuse themselves on the riverbank. She closed her eyes and lifted her face towards the sun. It did indeed feel wonderful to feel the warming effects of the autumnal sunshine on her face. 'I am glad that we went out today,' she said as she leaned back slightly on her hands. 'There will not be very many days like this before the winter sets in.'

'I should imagine it gets cold in the winter,' Captain Fallbrook replied.

'Yes, it does, I'm afraid,' Octavia said with a sigh, 'we often get snow at Northleigh in November. It can be so heavy that we can be cut off from the rest of the world for days on end.'

There was a silence as they continue to watch the children fish. 'Why did you come here?' Octavia asked as she turned around to look at him. It had been a question she had wanted to ask him for some time. Why would a handsome and fashionable gentleman, from a very respectable family, leave all his friends behind him in London and hideaway in the country?

As she looked at him and waited for his answer, she saw that his lips had curled into a smile. But the smile, she noticed, did not reach his eyes like it usually did. 'I wanted a change of scenery,' he said nonchalantly, 'and London was becoming a bit dull.'

'Dull!' Octavia said, looking at him with wide eyes, 'how can life in the city ever be dull?'

'Have you ever been to London?' he asked.

Octavia shook her head. 'No,' she replied, 'since my marriage, I have only been as far as the nearest town, Harrogate.'

'You must believe me,' he said with a sigh, 'one can quickly tire of London.'

'Are you finding your duties tiresome,' she said, not daring to look at him in the face. 'It is so quiet and secluded here at Northleigh.' If he tired so quickly of London, then he would undoubtedly become weary of being stuck here in the middle of nowhere.

He shook his head. 'I like teaching your son,' he said genuinely, 'he is a bright young man with a good deal of potential.'

'Do you think he will settle into school?' She asked, her voice almost a whisper, 'I do so worry about him. He has not had a very conventional upbringing, and I am not at all certain whether he is ready to leave home.'

Octavia felt his little finger touch hers, and she quickly looked up at him. She knew that she should draw her hand away, but she felt his touch strangely comforting. She kept her hand on the rug, and he continued to gently caress her little finger. 'He will be all right,' he said, smiling at her. 'Most parents' worry about their children leaving home. My mother was almost inconsolable when my brother went to school for the first time.'

'I do hope you are right,' she said with a sigh. She could still feel the light touch of his finger against her little finger, and it was strangely comforting. 'I worry that he lacks a certain amount of confidence,' she stopped abruptly and looked at him, her eyes troubled. 'No,' she said, shaking her head, 'confidence is not the right word. On the day you arrived, you must have seen that he has confidence in abundance. He will talk to anyone about anything.'

'You are worried that someone will take advantage of his good-nature,' he replied, looking at her thoughtfully.

'Yes, but...' she stopped and shut her eyes, 'it is more than that. I am concerned that he will not fit in at school and will be picked on by the other boys. He is small for his age and...' She was finding it difficult to explain herself, and she was certain that what she was saying did not make any sense. 'I am worried that he will not be able to stand up for himself.'

Octavia felt him squeeze her hand. It felt somewhat comforting to feel the touch of another person. 'I can teach him,' Captain Fallbrook then said after another lull in the conversation, 'to stand up for himself.'

'How?' Octavia heard herself say, 'I do not want Charles to get hurt.' Teaching her son to hurt someone, went against all her convictions. She had wanted to shield him from the world that existed outside the gates of Northleigh. However, she was beginning to realise that that was not going to be possible. Charles must be allowed to make his own way in the world, without the protection of his mother.

He smiled at her. 'Do not worry. The lad will not get hurt. I will make sure of that.' He took hold of her hand and held it gently in his. 'He may get a few bruises, but nothing more serious than that, I assure you.'

'Oh,' she said, the distressed look was still in her eye, 'I do not know if he is ready.'

'Lady Kendall,' he said softly, 'I will not be cruel to your son. I will teach him how to defend himself against bullies like Mr Dowle.'

Octavia nodded. 'Yes,' she said softly, 'he must learn to stand up for himself.'

He smiled and stood up. 'Do not make up your mind now. Think about it for a few days and let me know of your decision.' He then looked over to the riverbank and the brother and sister who were still happily fishing. 'It will be getting dark soon,' he said, looking up at the sky, 'I better help Olivia and Charles pack away the equipment and pack up the gig.'
Chapter 8

A week after the fishing trip, Octavia, along with Olivia, had been invited by Charles to watch his first fencing lesson with Captain Fallbrook in the gallery at Northleigh. The gallery had been specially chosen by Captain Fallbrook, who had suggested that the long room with its high ceiling would be the perfect place to conduct the lesson. Octavia had ordered the servants to clear away any obstacles that might come to harm if hit by a sword, but she should not have worried. The long room that had housed the portraits of the Sorrell family for generations only contained a few tables, positioned in ornate alcoves around the room. The servants had already, under their own initiative, removed the expensive porcelain vases and other potentially breakable items that rested on these tables. The large oil paintings of the previous generations of the Sorrell family were left hanging on the wall, and they looked down at the ensuing lesson with disinterested expressions on their faces.

It had not been hard to find the equipment needed for the lesson. Sir Freddie, when he had been at Eton and then Oxford, had been proficient in the sport and had kept all the necessary paraphernalia. In fact, when he had been told about the proposed lesson, he had also offered his services.

After his first lesson, Charles had spoken non-stop about how much fun it had been. During his lengthy monologue to his mother and sister, he had told them that Captain Fallbrook and his Uncle Freddie had given him a first-rate demonstration of how one should conduct oneself when one was challenging an opponent. He had assured his mama, who he knew was averse to any form of physical violence, that it was a sport for gentleman and each competitor was subject to a strict code of conduct that governed their behaviour. They had told him that a gentleman never picked up the foil in anger.

Charles, who was in awe of both his tutor and guardian, hung on their every word and took their warnings seriously. He had described to his mother and sister that it had been a magnificent sight to watch both men demonstrate their skills. 'And, Mama,' Charles had declared after his lengthy description was drawing to an end, 'it is perfectly safe. You wear a mask over your face, and the foils, even though they are not in the least bit sharp, have a cork protector on the tip. Uncle Freddie said that all I will get is a few bruises and maybe a sore bottom if I fall onto the floor too many times. You must not worry, mama,' the young lad said reassuringly to his mama. 'It is all perfectly safe, and Captain Fallbrook will look after me,' he had said his eyes gleaming with excitement. 'I am so excited about my first lesson tomorrow. I do not think I will be able to sleep tonight.'

Since that conversation, Charles had had several lessons, and his excitement for the new sport had not diminished. He wanted to show his mother and sister what he had learnt. Therefore, a week after his first lesson Octavia and Olivia found themselves positioned at the end of the long gallery, observing Charles' progress.

'Mama, Livvy,' he shouted up at them, 'did you see that?'

'Yes, I did, my dear,' Octavia replied her voice a little alarmed, 'you are not hurt, are you?'

'Me?' Charles shouted back as he picked himself off the floor, 'of course not.'

Octavia watched as her son held out the foil in front of him and placed his right foot in front of his left. 'En Garde,' he commanded as Captain Fallbrook then took his position.

'When you lunge,' Fallbrook said, 'try not to lean too much to the left. Keep your body in line and use your left arm as a counterbalance. That should stop you from falling over.'

Charles lunged elegantly at Captain Fallbrook, who expertly parried his attack. 'Much better,' the Captain said as Charles regained his equilibrium, 'you did not fall over that time. This time keep the foil horizontal and your back leg straight. All the power should come from your leg, not your arm.'

'Oh, Mama,' Olivia said as Charles attempted another lunge, 'it is so graceful.'

'I suppose it is,' Octavia agreed somewhat grudgingly, 'your brother is certainly enjoying himself.'

When they had finished, Charles and Captain Fallbrook removed the protective masks and walked towards them. 'Well, Mama, Livvy,' he said as he reached them, 'Did you see that last lunge? I nearly touched Captain Fallbrook with my point.'

'You looked like you were dancing together,' Olivia said, 'you both looked very graceful.'

'You are correct, Lady Olivia,' Captain Fallbrook said in reply, 'dancing is not so different from fencing. You must master the footwork and be light on your feet.'

'I would love to learn,' Olivia said wistfully.

'You could watch our lessons,' Charles said, looking up at Captain Fallbrook, 'you would not mind, would you, sir.'

'Not at all,' Captain Fallbrook replied, looking down reassuringly at the girl. 'In fact, if your mama does not object, you could join in the lesson.'

Olivia looked up at her mother. 'Oh, Mama,' she said, with a pleading look in her eyes, 'may I?'

'I don't know,' Octavia said doubtfully.

'You do not have to worry about her safety,' Captain Fallbrook said softly, 'and you do not need to worry about propriety. You, or Miss Sydenham, can chaperone her.'

'Please, Mama,' Olivia said, looking up at her mother imploringly.

Octavia, though not at all sure whether she should sanction the lesson, reluctantly agreed to it. 'Yes, my dear, but only if Miss Sydenham or I am present,' she replied.

'Famous,' Charles said, 'I will find you something to wear, that dress will be no good. And what about you, mama?' Charles said as he turned around to his mother. 'We cannot leave you out. I think that you would enjoy it as well.'

'I don't know, Charles,' Octavia replied, laughing, 'I think I am too old to learn.'

'Nonsense,' Captain Fallbrook said, looking at her with laughter in his eyes, 'you are never too old to learn something new.'

'Really,' Octavia said, 'I doubt that very much.'

'Oh, please, Mama,' Olivia pleaded, 'do join us. It will be so much fun, and I would prefer you to be there rather than Miss Sydenham. I am fond of her, but she can be very strict when it comes to observing propriety.'

Octavia looked at the expectant faces of her two children and capitulated. 'I will do it on one condition,' she said with an air of mock hauteur, 'that no one makes fun of me.'

'Oh, Mama,' Charles said, 'I cannot promise you that.'

A few days later Octavia found herself back in the gallery with her son, daughter and Captain Fallbrook. Only fifteen minutes ago, when she had still been upstairs in her dressing-room, she had nearly cried off. She had asked her maid to acquire the necessary clothing she was going to need for the lesson, a pair of breeches and a loose-fitting shirt. Her maid had no difficulty procuring the shirt, but the breeches were a different matter. It turned out, much to Octavia's chagrin, that boy's breeches were not made to fit the posterior of an adult female. The maid, after making a few alterations, finally presented Octavia with a pair that fitted her snugly. As Octavia looked at her reflection in the mirror, she thought that they were anything but decent, but the maid said that it was the best she could do at such short notice.

But Octavia was soon to discover that the tightness of the breeches was not the only problem she was going to have with the outfit. 'You won't be able to wear them, my lady,' the maid had said as Octavia had reached for her stays.

'Why ever not, Tillie?' Octavia had replied, somewhat indignantly.

'They are very tight, and you won't be able to move in them properly,' she had said briskly.

'I have to wear something under this shirt,' Octavia had replied, 'otherwise, it would be very uncomfortable, and not to mention unseemly.'

'Indeed, it would,' the maid said, 'if you pardon my bluntness, my lady, you are not small around the bosom.'

'I will just have to send my apologies,' Octavia had said, feeling a little relieved.

'Oh no,' the maid replied indignantly, 'you don't have to do that. Not after you have promised the young master that you will go. We could tie a linen strip around your bosom, not too tightly. I don't want to push all the air out of you.'

Octavia, though not surprised by her maid's candid conversation, was a little embarrassed as the maid secured the strip of linen across her chest. Her maid did not fasten it too tightly, and once it was in place, it felt surprisingly comfortable.

'Thank you, Tillie,' she said when she eventually put on the shirt, 'I think I am ready.'

'Put this on, my lady,' Tillie said as she handed her mistress a leather waistcoat.

Octavia put on the waistcoat over the shirt and was grateful for the extra layer that provided her with a little more modesty. 'That is better,' Octavia said as she looked in the mirror, 'I think I will do.'

Now she was standing in the long gallery, she was beginning to lose the confidence that she had felt earlier. 'This is going to be so much fun,' Olivia had said, as Captain Fallbrook handed her the foil.

The hour, much to Octavia's surprise, flew by and the lesson soon came to an end. 'I have come to take the children upstairs for their tea,' Miss Sydenham had said when she had arrived.

Octavia could see the look of disapproval that was written all over the governess' face. 'We have had so much fun,' Octavia had replied her voice breathless.

'My lady,' Miss Sydenham said her demeanour still solemn, 'I am not averse to young ladies having a little gentle exercise, but this is far too energetic.'

'You did not object to the cricket match,' Octavia replied rather indignantly, 'in fact if I remember correctly, you joined in.'

'That was different,' Miss Sydenham replied primly, 'it is perfectly acceptable for young ladies to occasionally play cricket with members of their own family. I certainly do not find anything improper with that.'

'Then I do not see anything wrong with this,' Octavia said, losing the levity she had felt only moments before. 'Olivia is having a fencing lesson in the privacy of her own home. Surely, there is nothing exceptional in that. Since Charles has begun his lessons with Captain Fallbrook, she has been sadly neglected. I thought that this would be the perfect way to include her in Charles' education. Look how much fun she is having. I have not seen her smiling and laughing as much as she has done so today.'

'It is not just Lady Olivia that I am concerned about,' Miss Sydenham added primly. Then sensing she had overstepped the mark she quickly added, 'I do not mean to be rude, my lady, but I must be able to speak my mind.'

'Miss Sydenham,' Octavia said, smiling at her, 'you know you can always speak your mind in front of me, but I do not believe that it is just the fencing lesson that is causing you concern.'

Miss Sydenham cleared her throat nervously. 'It is Captain Fallbrook,' she said, looking over at him suspiciously.

'I thought you liked him,' Octavia said, a confused expression had crossed her brow. Since he had arrived at Northleigh, she had spoken to Miss Sydenham on several occasions regarding Captain Fallbrook's teaching, and the governess had always held his pedagogy in the highest regard. 'You told me that he is doing a marvellous job with Charles.'

'Oh, he is,' Miss Sydenham replied. 'It is not his teaching skills or his relationship with Charles that is bothering me: it is something else.'

'Please tell me, Miss Sydenham,' Octavia replied a little impatiently, 'and stop beating around the bush.'

'May I speak my mind, my lady?' the governess replied.

Octavia nodded.

'Thank you, ma'am,' the governess said before taking a deep breath. 'Captain Fallbrook is a dangerous man,' she then said, holding up her head and looking across at the gentleman in question who was talking to the excited children.

'Dangerous?' Octavia replied her brows knitted together, 'how so?'

'He is a ... Oh, how can I describe it... a lady's man,' she said falteringly.

'A lady's man?' Octavia said, trying to stifle a laugh. 'What exactly do you mean by that?' she then added when she had composed herself.

'He likes to flirt and who knows what else,' Miss Sydenham said quickly.

'It would surprise me if he did not,' Octavia added nonchalantly, 'he is a military man after all. Anyway, who has he got to flirt with here at Northleigh? He is hardly going to try with Olivia, she is far too young. And I have not had any complaints from any of the maids. Oh,' she then added in shock horror, 'has he been flirting with you?'

'Of course not,' Miss Sydenham replied sharply. 'I wish you would take me seriously,' the older woman said, sounding a little hurt by Octavia's sarcastic retort. 'I am not worried about Olivia, or myself,' she added in a sharp whisper so that no one could hear, 'I am worried about you.'

'Me?' Octavia said incredulously, 'whatever for?'

'I have seen the way he looks at you,' she added, 'I may be an ageing spinster, but I do recognise the look he was giving you just now.'

Octavia found it difficult to hide the smile she felt creeping up on her. She now realised that he had been looking at her with admiration in his eyes. As she schooled her emotions, she also became aware that she liked the way it had made her feel. She took a deep breath and answered Miss Sydenham, who was still looking at her with an austere expression on her face. 'Do not worry about me,' she said lifting-up her chin defiantly, 'I can take care of myself.'

Miss Sydenham sighed. 'I hope you know what you are doing,' she said stiffly, 'I will take Olivia and Charles to the schoolroom. May I suggest that you go to your room and change, my lady. You should not be surprised that he keeps glancing at you when you are dressed like that.'

Octavia nodded. 'I will go,' she said with a smile, 'once I have helped Captain Fallbrook pack away.'
Chapter 9

Alex glanced over at Lady Kendall. She was still talking to the austere Miss Sydenham, who was looking at him with disapproval. Of course, Miss Sydenham had every right to look at him with daggers in her eyes, he had been flirting with Lady Kendall when she had entered the gallery a few minutes ago to collect the children.

His lips twitched as he watched Lady Kendall stifle a laugh. No doubt she was getting a scold from the governess and was finding it amusing.

'Come, Charles, Olivia,' he had heard Lady Kendall call out across the gallery, 'Miss Sydenham will take you upstairs, and I am certain that nurse will have brought you both up a glass of milk.'

'Oh, Mama,' Olivia said with evident disappointment in her voice, 'do we have to stop? I was having so much fun.'

'Listen to your mama, you scamp,' Captain Fallbrook said affectionately to her, 'we can always have another lesson another day.'

'Can we?' she said her frown turning into a smile, 'I would like that very much.'

'Then run along to the schoolroom,' he said jovially, 'and enjoy your glass of milk.'

Once the children had left, along with the dour-looking Miss Sydenham, he turned to face Lady Kendall. 'Shall we carry on with the lesson?' he asked her as he picked up one of the discarded foils and gave it to her.

'I thought we had finished,' she said, looking at him with surprise.

'We have only just started,' he replied mischievously, holding out the foil for her to take.

He saw her walk over to him slowly and gingerly take the foil from his hand. 'Here, put this on,' he said as he held out a facemask to her.

'What did the austere governess say to you?' he asked as she was about to put on the mask.

'Oh, nothing important,' she said rather hesitatingly, 'we were just discussing the children.'

'She is right, you know,' he then said as he looked at her.

'What do you mean?' she said, surprise in her voice.

'She was warning you about me,' he said with a smile. 'She is right, I am dangerous.'

'You heard what she said?' she answered a little taken aback.

'Enough to hear you telling her that you can look after yourself,' he replied with a smile.

'Well,' Lady Kendall said lifting-up her chin to look at him directly, 'I am six and twenty.'

He was somewhat taken aback when she told him her age. If she was six and twenty now, and her children were ten, she must have been only sixteen years old when she gave birth. For the first time in years, he was beginning to feel pangs of guilt stabbing at him.

From the very beginning, he had sensed a vulnerability in her that he knew, from experience, he could exploit. However, he was beginning to wonder whether it was a good idea to even try. When they had talked by the river, and he had tentatively touched her fingers, he had been aware of her innocence. But she had not drawn away from his touch when she had had the chance. In fact, he had felt her respond, and he had known that she was curious to know more.

Guilt was an unusual emotion for Alex, and it did not take him long to suppress it. And, despite Miss Sydenham's warnings, she was still there. She had even told Miss Sydenham that she was old enough to look after herself. A bold claim that he had every intention of testing.

'Do I stand like this?' she said, breaking the silence, as she held up the foil and took the position he had shown her earlier.

'Nearly,' he said as her voice woke him up from his reverie. He then stood next to her and repositioned her hand that held the foil, 'that's better.'

She stood there for a moment as he continued to look at her, until she said, 'are you not going to take up your position?'

'In a moment,' he said gently. 'Why are you wearing that leather waistcoat?' he added, 'it looks cumbersome, and it must be hindering your movement.'

'Not at all,' she answered, putting the foil down so that the blade touched the floor, 'I find it very comfortable.'

'That,' he answered with a smile, 'I do not believe for one minute. It is far too big for you, and it looks heavy. You do know you can take it off. I promise I won't blush,' he added with a grin.

'Very well,' she said primly, 'can you hold my foil?'

'Did Miss Sydenham suggest you put it on?' he said as he took the foil from her hand.

'No,' she replied as she shrugged it from her shoulders. 'My maid suggested I wore it so that I might hide my...' she blushed and then said, 'that it would protect my... modesty.'

'She was right,' he said as she discarded the waistcoat, 'but you would be more comfortable without it, and there is no one here to see you, just me.'

'Come,' he then said, as he held out the foil that she had given him to hold, 'take up your position again.'

After ten minutes of tuition had elapsed, he took the foil from her hand and placed it on the floor. He took the face mask from her head and looked down at her. She was slightly out of breath from the exercise, her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were bright from the exertion. Her hair that had earlier been tied into a neat chignon had almost come loose from its constraints, and it fell down her back in soft brown waves until it had almost touched her waist. He suddenly remembered the first time he had seen her when she had been playing cricket on the lawn just outside Northleigh when he had thought that she had been pretty and attractive. But now, standing before him, looking up at him expectantly, she was more than pretty; she was beautiful and very desirable.

'Charming,' he said as he brushed a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. He was aware that she took a sharp intake of breath when his fingers brushed the side of her cheek. As he let his fingers linger in her hair, he could feel her breathing becoming a little quicker. 'Lady Kendall, Octavia,' he said in a low husky voice as he bent down to her so that his lips almost touched her earlobe, 'I would like to kiss you.'

She nodded slowly. 'I would like that very much, but...' she stopped abruptly and looked at him with troubled eyes.

'What is it, Octavia?' he said, using her given name giving the encounter a little more intimacy, and she had not objected to the familiar address when he had used it earlier.

'I have,' she said falteringly, 'it's nothing.'

He breathed in deeply and quenched the guilt he was beginning to feel again. However, now was not the time to feel any remorse.

He moved his hands that had been resting on her hips, across the contours of her body. He felt her waist that tapered in, and then he moved up towards the curves of her ample breasts. She was not a tall woman, the top of her head barely reached his shoulders, but she was perfectly proportioned.

He felt her take a sharp intake of breath when he traced the curve of her breast with the tips of his fingers. He felt her nipples hardening through the thin linen band as he gently squeezed them between his thumb and forefinger. His lips then traced the line of her jaw, and he found the sensitive skin below her ear.

'Say my name,' he said huskily, 'in her ear.'

'Captain...'

'No,' he interrupted her, 'my given name.'

'Alex,' she said, unable to hide the passion in her voice. 'Alex.'

The control he had so far maintained nearly slipped away from him. But now was not the time or place for anything more than a kiss. With great reluctance, he drew away from her, placing both his hands back onto her hips. He heard her rapid breathing, and he knew that he had left her wanting more.

'We can resume this another time, in a more conducive environment,' he said as he touched her cheek with his fingers.

'Yes, Alex,' she said, in a whisper.

Moving away from her had been one of the most difficult things Alex had done. As he looked down at her in her delightfully dishevelled state, he was sorely tempted to throw caution to the wind and continue with his seduction.

'You better go, before someone sees us,' he said gravely.

'Yes,' was all she managed to say, as she continued to look after him with her big brown eyes that were still glassy with passion.

She turned around and walked towards the door. As her hand reached out for the handle, she turned around and looked at Alex. 'Thank you, Alex,' she said as she opened the door, 'that was wonderful.'

As she closed the door behind her, Alex realised that there was no guile in her. If he were to hazard a guess, he would have said that that had been her first kiss. His first impression of her had been correct, she was innocent. However, he was not an honourable man and had lost any conscience he had had in a French prison five years ago. For Alex, guilt was an easy emotion to suppress, and he had had plenty of practice over the years quenching it. He had never been an honourable rake, unlike some of his peers, shying away from innocence. If she wanted to learn more about the art of seduction, he had every intention of teaching her. Perhaps it was not just her son; he was here to tutor, but the delightful widow as well.

A smile played on his lips when he realised that it would not be long before he was warming Octavia's bed. A pleasant distraction that would while away the cold, long winter nights and make his trip to the North worthwhile.

Octavia, her body and mind still reeling from the kiss, returned to her bedchamber, hoping that it would be empty. She needed a few minutes to gather her thoughts together, and time to think clearly about what had just happened in the gallery. It had been incredible, and every part of her body still tingled with the excitement she had felt when his lips touched hers for the first time.

When his hands had roamed over her body, she had felt shards of pleasure course through her. Even in her wildest dreams, she had never imagined that such an intensely pleasurable feeling was possible. She knew as she walked rather on steadily to her bedchamber, that there was even more to discover.

Octavia knew that he did not love her, but that did not bother her in the slightest. She just wanted to know what it was like to have an accomplished lover. To experience the excitement of a physical relationship without the emotional ties that come with a lasting attachment. Katie had been right, he was perfect. Not only was he tall and incredibly handsome, but he knew the rules of the game she wanted to play. She had been grateful that he had not proclaimed his love or used false honeyed words. Instead, he had demonstrated his skill and left her wanting so much more.

To her chagrin, she found, Tillie, her maid, standing in the middle of her bedchamber waiting for her. 'Good day, my lady,' she had heard her say as she entered the room, 'it is getting late, so I thought I'd come upstairs and wait for you.'

'Thank you, Tillie,' Octavia said, trying to take control of her wayward emotions.

'Oh, my Lady!' exclaimed Tillie, as her mistress walked into the room and she saw her for the first time, 'I hope no one saw you.'

Octavia caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and was shocked by her reflection. Her hair had fallen out from the chignon and hung loosely around her shoulders. The shirt she was wearing was partially undone at the front and was beginning to slip off her shoulders. Her cheeks were flushed, and her lips were a darker rose than usual. She could even still feel them pleasantly tingle from the kiss. Octavia knew from the stony expression of disapproval on Tillie's face that the maid knew exactly what she had done.

'You had better take those things off,' Tillie said curtly, 'It is a good job that I had the foresight to have the hipbath brought up for you, my lady.'

'Yes, Tillie,' Octavia said meekly. The maid's censor had made Octavia feel a pang of remorse for the kiss.

Octavia loved Tillie. She had been her maid ever since she arrived at Northleigh on that fateful day three days after her fifteenth birthday. Tillie had been the one that had dried her tears in those painful days after her marriage. She was the one that had risked her position in the household and had looked after Octavia after Lord Kendall's callous and cruel treatment of her. But Octavia was tired and wanted to be on her own to digest the afternoon's events before she had to join the children and Miss Sydenham for dinner. The last thing she wanted to do was to give an account of her actions that afternoon with Captain Fallbrook, to her maid. She was old enough to make her own decisions. Even though she felt a little rude, she ignored Tillie's questions.

Once Octavia had removed her shirt and breeches, she lowered herself into the hipbath and relaxed in the warm scented water. She was glad that Tillie had taken the hint and had not spoken to her. She shut her eyes and thought of Alex and the kiss they had shared.

Once Octavia had finished bathing and was sitting in her dressing gown in front of her dressing-table, a fire roaring in the grate, Tillie began to brush her hair. Octavia closed her eyes and relaxed as Tillie made the long strokes with the hairbrush through her hair.

'My lady,' Tillie eventually said with determination, 'may I speak with you frankly?'

'Of course,' Octavia said as she turned around to look at her maid who was still holding her hairbrush. Tillie was not usually this quiet, however, today, after the initial questions about her appearance, she had not uttered a word. Octavia, who only moments before had welcomed the maid's silence, now had a sense of foreboding.

The maid took a deep breath and positioned the brush on the crown of Octavia's head and began to speak. 'I don't trust him,' she blurted out as she pulled the brush down the length of Octavia's hair.

Octavia turned around and looked at her. 'Who don't you trust?' she said casually, knowing full well who she was talking about.

'That man,' she said, her expression stony, 'Captain Fallbrook.'

'Why ever not?' Octavia said calmly, still looking at her.

'It's something I heard Tom, the second footman, say only this morning. He said Captain Fallbrook is not to be trusted,' she ejaculated.

'What does Tom know about Captain Fallbrook?' Octavia said dubiously. 'Tillie, I thought you knew better than to listen to the servants' gossip,' she said, not hiding the disappointment in her voice.

'It's not gossip,' Tillie said indignantly. 'Tom has a cousin who works as a footman for a family in London who are related to Captain Fallbrook. He had a letter from him today warning him about the captain.'

Octavia, who was now curious about the information sighed. 'Who does Tom's cousin work for?'

'Captain Fallbrook's brother, the Earl of Huntingdon,' the maid said. 'Tom said that his lordship had covered up a scandal involving his brother and had arranged for him to leave London as quickly as possible.'

'Does Tom know what the scandal was about?' Octavia asked, looking at her maid dubiously.

'No,' Tillie answered, 'I'm afraid he doesn't. But he did say that Captain Fallbrook had developed a terrible reputation as a rake. I would not have said anything, but...' Tillie stopped and looked at her mistress with troubled eyes. 'He is a man with a great deal of experience of the world, and I do not want you to be taken in by him.'

Octavia was not surprised to find out that he had a reputation as a rank. His experience was one of the reasons she was going to take him as a lover. It was the possibility that he had left London due to a scandal that was bothering her. She was not worried for her own sake. She had virtually no reputation to lose, she was more concerned about her son. She would have to put her own selfish needs to one side and protect her children.

'I must talk to Tom,' Octavia said firmly, 'and get to the bottom of this.'

Tillie turned pale. 'Oh,' she said, looking concerned, 'my lady, do you have to. I do not want the other servants to think of me as a tattletale. I wasn't going to say anything to you, but after I saw you today, I thought you should know.'

'Tillie,' Octavia said earnestly, 'I have to know if this is the truth. I cannot have a man with a dubious character, who left London in disgrace, teach Charles. But, if it is, as I suspect, untrue, I cannot have one of my servants spreading rumours about a gentleman who is tutoring my son. If these rumours were to come to the ears of any of my neighbours, I would find myself in a very difficult position.'

'Yes, my lady,' Tillie said meekly.

'Will you tell Tom that I will send for him after dinner,' she said as she stood up to get dressed.
Chapter 10

Over the next few days, Octavia did not sleep well, and consequently, she was exhausted. The day after she had had that conversation with Tillie, she had met with the footman, Tom, and had spoken to him about the letter he had received from his cousin in London. However, the conversation that she thought would put her mind at rest did nothing to quell her fears. She left her meeting with Tom convinced that there was indeed an element of truth behind the rumours. She had been so concerned about what she had discovered about Captain Fallbrook, that she had been to see Freddie the next day. She had hoped that Freddie would be able to alleviate her fears and put her mind at rest.

Freddie had listened to her and had tried to allay her fears. He had told her that his aunt, who was a stickler for propriety, would never have recommended Fallbrook if there was even a hint of scandal attached to his name. Freddie had told her that he would contact a friend of his in London, who would be able to investigate the matter further and put her mind at rest. Octavia had left Freddie still feeling uneasy, but there was nothing she could do until he had received news from his contacts in London, and she knew that any correspondence could take several weeks.

There was another reason why Octavia could not sleep. There was also the matter of the kiss, and why it had affected her so profoundly. In the gallery, when he had had his arms around her, she had felt a strong emotional attachment to him. However, as much as she tried, she could not put the kiss, or the feelings it evoked within her to one side. They seemed to be always present, gnawing relentlessly at her conscience. It was always in the early hours of the morning that she thought of him. She felt a deep longing for his arms to envelop her and hold her tightly. She wanted his lips to touch hers once more, and she yearned to lose herself in the intense passion that their embrace would bring.

But in the cold light of morning, she knew that her own needs and desires must be suppressed. She must discover what type of man Captain Fallbrook really was, and whether or not he could be trusted to teach her son. She also knew that it would be highly inappropriate for her to have an intimate relationship with her son's tutor. If anyone found out, and surely they would, her family would be subjected to all kinds of malicious gossip. Consequently, during the following days after their kiss, she avoided his company. However, other pressing events, out of her control, soon vanquished her own concerns.

Late one night, nearly a week after the kiss, when Octavia was in her bedchamber preparing to go to bed, Freddie arrived unexpectedly at Northleigh. When Andrews had informed his mistress of his unexpected arrival, Octavia had known by the late hour, that whatever had brought him here, must be serious. She dressed in one of her old muslin day dresses and then ran down the stairs to the drawing-room to meet with him.

'Octavia,' he had said as soon as she had entered the room, 'please could you come immediately to Evesham. Katie is calling for you.'

'Yes, of course,' she replied, 'is she well.' She knew from just looking at Freddie, whose face was ashen, that all was not well. She began to feel an ache in the pit of her stomach, as her concern for Katie grew.

'She is in labour,' he managed to say in a shaky voice.

'But that is good news,' Octavia said encouragingly, 'she was expecting to give birth any day now. Has Dr Roberts and the midwife been called out to attend her?'

'Yes,' Freddie said, 'but... she is in pain and has been drifting in and out of consciousness.'

'Do not worry, Freddie,' she said calmly resting her hand gently on his arm, 'Dr Roberts and Mistress Worth are experienced in these matters.'

Early in her confinement, Katie had made Octavia promise her that she would attend the birth of her child. Katie, like most women, was worried about complications arising during childbirth. It was a notoriously dangerous time for both mother and child, and death was a frequent visitor to the birthing chamber. The loss of the rector's wife, just last year giving birth to her first child, was still a topic of conversation in the neighbourhood, and over the past few weeks had been in the forefront of Katie's mind. And there had also been the shocking and untimely death of the seemingly healthy Princess Charlotte and her baby boy. That tragic event had plunged the whole nation into mourning

It was with a heavy heart that Octavia climbed up the steps into Freddie's carriage. As the carriage drove up the drive and made its way towards Evesham, Octavia began to pray that all would be well.

The journey, though only a few miles long, had been treacherous. For several days, the weather had been stormy, and that evening the wind had suddenly changed direction. It now blew across the moor from the East, bringing with it wintry conditions. The rain that had been falling steadily all afternoon, soon turned to snow as the temperature plummeted. The drive to Evesham had become almost impossible as snow began to fall on the already sodden ground. Octavia hoped that both the doctor and the midwife had arrived before the weather worsened. She knew that if they did not reach Evesham in the next hour, the roads would become impassable.

Katie, who had been suffering the crippling pains associated with childbirth since late that afternoon, had been confined to her bedchamber. Initially, she had asked Freddie not to make a fuss and had put the sharp stomach pains down to something she had eaten. However, as the evening wore on, it was becoming evident that Katie had begun the arduous process of giving birth. He had sent a message to Dr Roberts, only to receive a reply several hours later, that he was five miles away setting the bones of a young lad who had fallen out of a tree. In his message, he had told Sir Freddie that he would be there as soon as possible, and he should not worry because Mistress Worth, the midwife, was as experienced as any London accoucheur.

'Katie,' Octavia said as she entered the dark, stuffy bedchamber. She walked over to Katie and sat down and took her hand in hers. She could see from the half-light provided by a couple of flickering candles on the mantlepiece, that Katie looked pale and wan. 'I'm here,' she said quietly squeezing her hand.

'Octavia,' Katie said weakly. 'I am so glad you have come. I do not feel at all well.'

'I am sure that Dr Roberts will be here soon,' she said, smiling at her warmly, 'but until he arrives, I am here to look after you.'

Octavia felt the midwife rest her hand gently on her shoulder. She bent towards Octavia and whispered in her ear. 'My lady,' she said, 'may I have a quick word.'

Octavia nodded. As she stood up, she touched Katie on the cheek with the back of her hand. 'I will be back in a moment,' she said, smiling at her friend.

'My lady,' the midwife said in a soft whisper, 'I am anxious about Lady Sommerville. She has not been in labour very long, but she is becoming frail.'

'I hope the doctor gets here soon,' Octavia said, a worried look on her face, 'the weather is getting worse, and the roads will soon be impassable.' She then looked over to Katie, who was lying in bed, looking very pale, 'is there anything I can do?'

'Yes, my lady,' the kindly midwife replied, 'just hold her hand and reassure her. I'm afraid there's very little we can do until Dr Roberts arrives.'

In the following hours, Octavia had almost given up hope of Dr Roberts ever making it to Evesham. The conditions on the roads were now hazardous, and Octavia had convinced herself that he was never going to come. However, in the early hours of the morning, the intrepid doctor finally arrived. When he entered Katie's bedchamber, her breathing was shallow, and her face was as white as the pillow she lay on. Octavia thought as she held her friend's clammy hand, that she was close to death.

Dr Roberts, after examining Katie, discovered that the baby was breeched. 'Mistress Worth,' he said crisply to the midwife, 'we are going to have to reposition the child.'

'Yes, sir,' the midwife said as she began to massage Katie's swollen abdomen. 'I think we may have more than one in here, sir,' she then said thoughtfully, looking up at the doctor.

The doctor sighed. 'Yes, Mistress Worth,' he replied, 'I was also beginning to think that her ladyship was carrying twins.'

He examined her again and sighed. 'It's no good, Mistress Worth. They are not moving. I am going to have to use forceps.'

Katie had regained consciousness only to hear the doctor's command. She looked up at Octavia with fear in her eyes. 'Octavia,' she said fearfully, 'please, please stop them. I cannot...'

Octavia smiled at her and wiped her forehead with a damp cloth. 'Katie,' she said with a gentle voice, 'if you do not let them do this, your baby will die. You may die as well,' she said calmly, 'and I cannot let that happen.'

Katie nodded. 'Octavia,' she said as she lifted her head to look at her. It saddened Octavia to see that her friend's eyes were full of grief and agitation. 'I do not want to die, but if anything happens to me, you must promise me now that you will look after Freddie and the baby.'

'You are not going to die,' Octavia said firmly, 'you are going to live for Freddie and your children.'

'Please, Octavia,' she said, now looking at her friend with troubled eyes, 'you must put my mind at rest and promise me. I could not bear to think of them all alone.'

Octavia took a deep breath and squeezed Katie's hand. She could tell that the thought of leaving Freddie and the baby behind, was causing her friend unnecessary stress. 'I promise,' she said in a steady voice, 'I promise I will look after them.'

'Thank you,' she said as she lay her head back on her pillow, 'my dear, dear friend.'

Octavia looked over at Dr Robert's and nodded. 'She is ready,' she said.

Dr Roberts wiped his bloodstained hands on a cloth and then removed a pair of large forceps from his leather medical case. Octavia held Katie's hand as the doctor began the painful procedure. Katie cried out as the doctor began to remove the child ever so carefully from her womb.

Dr Roberts was an experienced physician and had served the local community for many years. He had always prided himself on keeping up to date with the latest medical procedures. Only a few weeks ago, the nation had been plunged into mourning, due to the shocking and unexpected death of Princess Charlotte in childbirth. He had found it particularly distressing because she had been attended by the famous and well-respected accoucheur, Sir Richard Croft. When the Princess' personal physician, Matthew Braille, had sent for the eminent obstetrician John Sims, the accoucheur Croft had refused to let him see his patient. In the aftermath of her death, his decision had been widely criticised, and it had been reported that the use of forceps may have saved the future queen's life. Dr Roberts was not going to make the same mistake; he was prepared to use forceps on his patient.

Within minutes, the baby, aided by Dr Roberts slid out onto the bed. Mistress Worth picked up the child and wrapped it in a blanket. As Octavia looked at the small bundle, she could not help but notice how very small and blue it seemed. There was an unnerving silence in the room, as everyone waited, with bated breath, for the welcome cry of the infant that would announce its arrival to the world. During those long, painful minutes, Octavia feared the worst. What if the child was dead? But then, just as she was about to lose hope, she heard a faint cry, that gradually grew louder.

'It's a boy,' Mistress Worth said, holding the small bundle in her arms. Octavia breathed a sigh of relief as the cry grew stronger. 'He's a little on the small side,' the midwife said, 'but he has a strong set of lungs.'

Dr Roberts examined Katie again. 'Just as we suspected,' he said gravely, looking round to where the midwife was standing, 'there is another. Mistress Worth give the child to the wet nurse. I need your help.'

The doctor and the midwife gently massaged Katie's still swollen stomach. 'The child is also breached. I will have to remove it with the forceps,' he said gravely.

There was silence again, as the doctor began the procedure. This time, when the baby had been born and handed to the midwife, no cry came forth. 'It's another boy,' she said quietly, 'but he has gone to be with his maker.'

When the midwife was cleaning up after the birth, Octavia looked at Dr Roberts. 'Will Katie live?' she said in a whisper.

'I cannot say,' he said as he washed his hands that were stained with Katie's blood. 'Only time will tell. The next week will be crucial.'
Chapter 11

Since arriving at Northleigh, Alex had spent many of his evenings in the library, preparing the next day's lessons for his young charge. That evening, he had selected the first volume of _The Works of Virgil_ by John Dryden. He had sat down in one of the comfortable leather chairs that had been strategically positioned to take full advantage of the warmth radiated by the fire. On the side-table next to him, within easy reach, there was a large glass of cognac that glowed with an amber hue as it caught the light from the fire.

It had taken some effort for Alex to find the cognac. When he had first arrived at Northleigh, it had not escaped his notice that there was never any alcohol served. At dinner, there was never wine, and the many glass decanters that he had managed to discover, were empty. The lack of alcohol, for one who had imbibed so much, had been difficult, especially during those first few weeks. Drinking had become an integral part of his life, and he had used the numbing effects of alcohol to dull the memories of the time he had spent in a French prison. The nightmares he had about being shackled to the wall in that cold, dark cellar, with only the painful screams of his fellow prisoners keeping him company, never left him.

Initially, he had had to suppress the irrational cravings he had for a drink. He had found that the most difficult time was at night when the night terrors returned and were more vivid than ever. To control them, he would grit his teeth and clench his fists until they faded away. But when they were finally over, they left him trembling like a child and feeling nauseous in the pit of his stomach. It angered him to feel so powerless over his own emotions. At least when he was drinking, his mind was numbed to the painful memories that had overwhelmed him. Therefore, over the last couple of weeks, his resolve had begun to waver. And today any resolve that he had managed to cling onto had vanished. His longing for a drink had driven all other thoughts from him. After he had acquitted his duty towards Charles, he spent most of the day hunting any type of alcohol that would alleviate his suffering.

Earlier that evening, he had scoured the house in search of the elusive elixir. When he was about to lose hope of finding any, he discovered a case of cognac that must have belonged to the late Lord Kendall, hidden in an alcove in the cellar. He opened the wooden crate and took out one of the bottles and dusted off the pieces of straw that had been used to protect it during its transport many years ago. He carefully opened the stiff cork stopper and smelt the woody notes of the deep amber liquid and felt a deep sense of relief. Tonight, he would be able to dampen those feelings of guilt and isolation that had hounded him, and then he would be able to have a night of dreamless sleep.

He had not spoken to Lady Kendall for some time. It had been nearly a week since she had left Northleigh to go to Evesham to attend Lady Sommerville, and almost two weeks had passed since the fencing lesson in the gallery. He had not wanted to admit it to himself, but he had missed her. He not only missed the regular conversations they had had about Charles' education, but he also missed seeing her during the day.

Once he had taken his prize from the cellar up to the library, he drank several glasses in quick succession and removed his cravat and jacket to make himself more comfortable. He then picked up Dryden's translation of Virgil and settled into the leather chair by the fire. Years ago, he would have been thankful for the opportunity to sit quietly and read. During his time at Oxford, he had been a diligent student and had enjoyed studying the classics. But, as he sat down in one of the comfortable leather chairs by the fire, the Virgil translation forgotten, he closed his eyes and let the soporific properties of the alcohol take effect. He did not know how long he had been sittings staring at the fire, but by the time he had come to his senses the bottle of cognac was nearly empty and the Virgil translation had been unceremoniously tossed to the floor.

As he poured the last of the bottle of cognac into the glass, deep in regret for not having the foresight to have bought up another bottle from the cellar, he heard the door of the library open.

'Octavia, Lady Kendall,' he quickly amended himself. 'Are you well?'

Lady Kendall stood in the doorway of the library looking pale and drawn. She had dark circles under her eyes, and her cheeks were sallow. She put out her hand to grasp the handle of the door to steady herself. 'Lady Kendall,' he said when she did not answer him, 'come and sit down.'

He walked over to the door, took her hands and guided her to the chair he had just vacated. Her hands were cold, and her fingers were like little blocks of ice. 'You are cold Lady Kendall,' he said with compassion in his voice, 'put my jacket around your shoulders.'

'Thank you,' she said, looking up at him, as she pulled the material of the jacket around her shoulders.

Alex went over to the fire and piled up the kindling to relight it. Once the flames had sprung back into life, he placed some of the larger logs onto the fire. 'When did you arrive back at Northleigh?' he said.

'I have just arrived,' she said quietly.

'Did you walk?' He said as he knelt on the floor in front of her. He took her hands in his and began to rub them. She was so cold; it would not have surprised him to find out that she had walked all the way from Evesham in the dark on her own.

She shook her head. 'No, Freddie sent me home in his carriage,' she said in a whisper.

'Is Lady Sommerville well?' he asked, almost afraid of the answer. Far too many women of his acquaintance had died due to complications resulting from trauma in childbirth.

'She is much better,' she said, 'Freddie sent me home to get some rest.'

'And the child?' he asked.

'He is thriving,' she said her voice a little brighter, 'and is growing stronger by the day.'

'Have you managed to get any sleep over the past week?' he said, still holding her hands in his.

She shook her head and stared at the fire. 'I do not think I could sleep,' she said weakly. 'I cannot stop thinking about their dead child,' she eventually said as she turned to face him. 'He was so small,' she said tears forming in the corner of her eyes, 'and looked so peaceful.'

Alex continued to rub her cold fingers with the palms of his hands. 'The rector will not let him be buried in the family vault,' she said as the tears began to flow down her cheek. 'He says that he was not christened and does not belong to the church. It just seems so... cruel,' she said as her voice disappeared into a whisper.

Alex nodded. 'Yes,' he said with a sigh, 'yes, it is.' In truth, he had never given what would happen to his body after death much consideration. Of course, as a soldier, he had often thought about his death. On the eve of many battles, he had contemplated his own death, but even though it had stretched before him like a deep abyss, he had never feared it. How could one focus in the heat of battle, if one was continually thinking about one's own demise? He had listened to the padre say many times, over the hastily dug graves of his friends and comrades, whose lives had been cut short in the heat of battle, "all go to one place; all are of the dust, and all turn to dust again." But, as he looked at Octavia, who was deep in her grief, he knew that these were not the appropriate words to comfort her.

'I kept thinking about Charles and Olivia,' she said as she gave way to a flood of tears. 'And, what would have happened if one of them had died.'

He pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket and gave it to her. 'Here,' he said as he handed it to her.

She wiped her eyes, but she could not stop crying. He picked up the glass of cognac that he had just been about to drink before she entered the room and gave it to her. 'Drink this,' he commanded as he held out the glass to her.

She looked at it suspiciously and shook her head. 'No, thank you,' she said through her tears, 'I do not drink alcohol.'

'I insist,' he said as he continued to hold the glass for her to take, 'you will feel much better after you have had some of this.'

She cautiously took the glass from him and gingerly sipped at its contents. He saw her wince as the strong liquor caught the back of her throat. 'Have a little more,' he said encouragingly, 'it will warm you up.'

After he saw her take a few more sips of the cognac, he took the glass from her and placed it on the table next to the chair. They sat in silence for several minutes. She had stopped crying, but he could see a deep sadness in her eyes as she stared at the fire. 'I am sorry for crying,' she eventually said, 'I have not slept properly since leaving here last week.' She looked over at him, and he could see the prominent dark smudges under her eyes that testified to her tiredness. 'Katie had been so ill after the birth, and there was very little I could do except keep a vigil by her bedside. I thought we had lost her, she bled so much after the birth. Dr Roberts had even prepared Freddie and me for the worst.' She sighed and looked at the fire that was burning in the grate. 'When Katie eventually regained consciousness, a couple of days ago, Freddie did not want her to be told about the death of her other son. He thought that it would be better to wait until she was a little stronger. But, I know it will break her heart. And there is nothing I can do to help her; nothing.' She closed her eyes, bent her head, and he could see that she was looking at the handkerchief that she was clasping in her lap.

'There is,' he said gently, 'you can be her friend.'

Octavia put down her head and nodded slowly. 'Yes,' she replied in a whisper, 'it is the only thing I can do.'

He then stood up. 'Come,' he said as he stretched out his hands towards her. She looked up at him enquiringly with her big brown eyes that were still glassy with the tears she had just shed. She then gingerly reached out her own hands and put them into his. As their fingers touched, Alex felt something stir deep within him. It was a sensation he recognised from long ago, and he had almost forgotten the powerful effect it could have on one's emotions. It was an emotion he had thought he had left behind in that French prison: it was compassion.

When he gently tugged on her hands, she responded and stood up in front of him. He stepped towards her and put his arms around her waist, drawing her closer to him. To his surprise, there was nothing lascivious about their embrace. He was holding her for one reason, and that was to comfort her. He felt her body relax against his, and he rested his chin on the top of her head. As they stood in silence, locked in the embrace, he could hear her gentle sobs.

'Oh, Alex,' she said when she eventually looked up at him, her eyes bright with tears, 'thank you.'

It was the first time she had used his given name, and for the second time that evening, he felt an emotion tug at his heart. This time, it was not compassion, in fact, he was not entirely sure what it could be. He closed his eyes, and as he held her, he savoured the feeling of intimacy that enveloped them. As he felt her arms tighten around him, a warmth, unlike anything he had felt before, began to seep into his heart. He responded by pulling her closer to him, burying his head in her hair and breathing in her familiar scent of spring flowers that always seemed to follow her.

He was suddenly assailed by a feeling of guilt. He did not deserve her thanks. He was nothing but a washed-up soldier, who, only a few weeks ago, had been lost in a life of vice. 'Octavia,' he whispered, 'please, do not thank me. I do not deserve your thanks.' Then after another silence, he said, 'I must go.'

She lifted her hand, cupped his cheek and smiled at him. 'You have been very kind, but please do not leave me,' she said softly as she stroked his cheek with the pad of her thumb. 'I do not want to be left alone,' she said, in a whisper. She touched his cheek tenderly, and he felt his resolve weaken.

The alcohol and the unfamiliar warm emotion that had settled in his heart were a potent combination. It was beginning to dawn on him that this was no casual dalliance with a bored widow, where no one's feelings were truly engaged; this was different. What he should do is let her go and walk away. It would be the honourable course of action. But Alex could not move, he was frozen to the spot. She said nothing as the smile faded from her lips and her hands slid around the back of his neck. Her eyes that a moment before had been full of sadness were now glassy with passion. She tilted her head towards his so that their lips almost touched and then she drew his head down with her hands and kissed him with an ardour that took him by surprise.
Chapter 12

Octavia had left Evesham late that evening feeling emotionally drained. Throughout the past week, while she sat by Katie's bed keeping vigil, Octavia had thought that her friend was going to die. She had felt helpless as she had watched Katie burn with a fever and drift in and out of consciousness muttering incoherently. She was so far removed from the vivacious woman, who only a few days ago, was looking forward to bringing a new life into the world. Fortunately, Katie was strong, and even in her darkest hour, when death hovered above her, and everyone thought she would succumb to its call, she clung tenaciously to life.

When Dr Roberts had examined Katie, he had told her and Freddie, with the confidence of an experienced physician, that his patient no longer required constant round the clock nursing. He had also looked at Octavia and had told her firmly that she looked drained and he ordered her to go home and get some rest. She had not wanted to leave Katie, but Freddie had insisted that she should take the doctor's advice and go back to Northleigh.

Later that evening, after she had helped settle Katie down for the night and she was satisfied that her friend would pass the night comfortably, Freddie sent for his carriage to take her home. The snow that had fallen last week on the day that Katie had started labour had begun to thaw, and the road between Evesham and Northleigh was clear. However, even though Freddie's carriage was comfortable, it was bitterly cold. Octavia was grateful for the hot brick under her feet and the woollen blanket that she had to cover her lap, but it was not long until she felt chilled to the bone. Before she reached Northleigh, she had lost sensation in her fingers, and they were tingling like they were full of pins and needles.

When she had arrived back at Northleigh, she dismissed Andrews as soon as he had taken her cloak. She knew, from the advanced hour, that all the servants would have gone to bed some time ago, and there was no point waking them up just for her benefit.

She was just about to go upstairs and get ready for bed when she saw a chink of light from under the library door and knew that it must be Captain Fallbrook preparing Charles' lessons for the following day. She hesitated as she rested her hand lightly on the bannister and her right foot on the bottom run of the stairs. The sensible thing to do would be to creep up and get ready for bed. She was, after all, completely exhausted and needed to rest. But, she suddenly felt very alone, and the thought of being by herself frightened her.

She was nervous as she put her hand out to open the library door, and she could feel her heart pounding in her chest. It had been two weeks since they had exchanged any more than a few polite words regarding Charles, but the memory of his kiss had rarely strayed from her mind. When she opened the door and walked into the library, she saw Captain Fallbrook sprawled out in one of the leather chairs, looking dishevelled. Octavia thought that he looked even more handsome than she remembered as he lounged in the chair with his jacket and cravat discarded on the floor.

'Octavia, Lady Kendall. Are you well?' he said as he opened his eyes and looked at her in surprise.

Octavia was disappointed that he had corrected himself and no longer used her given name. She longed for the familiarity that they had shared in the gallery. She wanted him to call her Octavia and hold her in his arms. As she stood by the door, she felt a little light-headed and put her hand out to the handle to steady herself.

She was aware of him taking her hands and holding them tenderly. They were warm compared to her icy fingers, and she became aware of how cold she had become during the journey to Northleigh. He guided her over to a large chair that was in front of the fire. Once she was seated, she was grateful for the comfort of the cushions. He then picked up his jacket from the floor and put it around her. She wrapped the fine dark blue wool jacket around her shoulders and looked over to him, as he relit the fire that had almost died out.

Once he had revived the fire, he knelt in front of her. He then took her hand in his and began to gently rub them. As she felt the warmth of his fingers begin to slowly seep through into hers, she felt the grief she had hidden from Katie, begin to well up from the pit of her soul. Octavia was able to control the sadness when she spoke to him of Katie and her son that survived. However, when she eventually told Alex about the death of the second child and how unfair it was that the infant could not be buried in the family vault, she had let her carefully suppressed grief escape. And, for the first time that week, Octavia let the tears flow down her cheeks.

Octavia found it difficult to control the tears that were now spilling down her cheek. She could not help thinking of her son and daughter, and what her feelings would be if one of them came to harm. She gratefully took the handkerchief that he offered her and dried her eyes, but she refused the liquor he tried to offer her. Apart from an incident when the late Lord Kendall had forced her to drink whisky, she had never touched a drop.

'I do not drink alcohol,' she had said, through her tears.

'I insist,' he said as he continued to hold the glass out to her. She looked at him, and believed him when he said, 'you will feel much better after you have had some of this.'

She took the glass from him and warily sipped its contents. The fiery liquid burned the back of her throat, and she fought back the urge to cough. 'Have a little more,' she heard him say, 'it will warm you up.'

Octavia knew that this was indeed true. There had been many times when the housekeeper had tried to persuade her to have a little brandy when she was not feeling well. Perhaps she would feel a little better if she had some more. She took a few more sips of the liquor that she thought must be brandy and handed it back to him. She was grateful that he had insisted that she should drink it. Not only was she appreciative of the warming effects of the alcohol, but she was also thankful for the relaxing sensation it produced.

When they had finished talking, he stood up and held out his hands towards her. 'Come,' he said as he looked at her compassionately.

Once she had cautiously taken both his outstretched hands, he pulled her gently to her feet. Then, he put his arms around her waist and drew her gently towards him. As soon as his arms were around her, a second more intense wave of grief swept over her. She buried her head in the folds of his shirt and began to sob. All the pain, sorrow and sadness she had buried over the past week, was released through her tears. When the grief finally subsided, she stopped crying and laid her head against his chest and listened to the comforting beat of his heart.

'Oh, Alex,' she said, after a lengthy silence, 'thank you.' It had been the first time she had called him Alex. The embrace had been so intimate that it felt quite natural to refer to him by his given name.

He said nothing, but she felt his arms tighten around her waist as he bent his head to hers. She closed her eyes and relaxed her body so that she was leaning against him.

'Octavia,' he said, in a barely audible voice, after several minutes had elapsed, 'please, do not thank me. I do not deserve your thanks.'

As she looked at him, she saw a troubled look in his eyes. 'I must go,' he said.

As he said those words, a feeling of panic assailed her. She did not want to be left alone, she wanted someone to hold her and comfort her through the dark and lonely hours of the night. She had bared herself to him, and she felt that if he left her now, her soul that had been shattered into thousands of pieces, would never be whole again.

'Please, do not leave me,' she said quietly, with desolation in her voice.

Octavia looked up at him as she waited for her answer. There was an unfamiliar look in his eye that she could not read, but it stirred an emotion deep within her that was different from grief. She could feel the same longing for him that she had experienced in the gallery when he had kissed her. She lifted her hand and gently touched his cheek with her fingertips. As she felt the rough texture of his stubble, the longing became an overpowering need to be close to him.

Over the past week, she had become familiar with the powerful effect that grief could have on one's soul. While she had been nursing Katie, she had felt little else. She had felt the desolation associated with deep mourning and the unfair hand life dealt those who deserve better. Now that she was locked in Captain Fallbrook's embrace, she was finding it difficult to identify when her grief ended, and her passion for him began. They just seemed to melt into one powerful emotion that Octavia was finding it difficult to control. She could feel her smile fade, as her desire to be touched by him intensified. She just wanted to feel something other than the emptiness. She wanted him to banish the hopelessness and deep sorrow she had felt. She did not care if it was only temporary and that tomorrow she would be feeling despondent once more. She wanted to forget her unhappiness, even if it was only for a couple of hours.

She was by no means experienced, but she followed her instincts and slipped her hands around the back of his neck and buried her fingers into his thick silky hair. It felt as though it was the most natural thing in the world for her to do. As she looked into his eyes, it pleased her to see a flicker of desire in their depths. She lifted her head and tilted his head towards hers, touching his lips with hers. She had only meant it to be a very gentle kiss, but as soon as their lips met, desire turned into a passion that seemed to engulf her. As he pulled her closer to him and deepened the kiss, she was aware of his body betraying his desire for her.

She did not object when he loosened her hair from the constraints of its chignon so that it fell down her back in soft waves. Neither did she utter any protest when he began to undo the buttons on the back of her carriage dress. She felt a frisson of excitement when he slid it from her shoulders and the thick wool of the dress pooled on the floor around her feet. She moaned softly, as he loosened the ribbons of her stays and began to kiss the soft bare flesh of her neck and shoulders. 'Oh, Alex,' she sighed.

He stopped abruptly and lifted his head to look at her. As he disengaged his arms from around her waist and rested them on her hips, he swore softly. He took a deep breath and rested his forehead on hers. 'Not like this,' he said in an uncharacteristically unsteady voice, 'I will not ravish you in your own home.'

'You are not ravishing me,' Octavia said, refusing to look away from him, 'I wanted...' She stopped and blushed. Ladies were taught from an early age to quell their own needs and desires, and they certainly never spoke of them to anyone. Now she wanted to, she did not have the vocabulary to explain to him how she felt.

He smiled at her and took a step back. 'No Octavia,' he said, in a firmer voice. She could see that he was already regaining his composure, and it saddened her. 'I would be a cad if I took advantage of your grief like this.'

'Oh no,' she exclaimed, 'you would not!'

'I would,' he replied firmly as he walked over to the fireplace and leant against the mantlepiece. 'I would be taking advantage of you, and tomorrow morning, in the cold light of day, you would regret it.'

She went over to one of the leather chairs near the fire and perched on its edge. The burning passion she had had for him had been replaced by a dull ache, and she felt like crying again. He must have been aware of her sadness because he quickly came over to her and knelt in front of her chair, just like he had done earlier that night. He took her hands in his and looked into her eyes. 'You must understand,' he said in a gentle voice, 'you are grieving, and grief can encourage us to do things that we would normally not do. I will stay with you until you are ready to go to bed,' he said soothingly, 'but I will not take advantage of you.'

He stood up and walked over to a seat by the window and picked up a woollen blanket. He walked back to her and placed the blanket around her shoulders. 'Keep warm,' he said with a smile, 'I am going to go to the kitchen to get us some hot milk and biscuits. When I return, we can talk.'
Chapter 13

Alex went to the kitchen, leaving Octavia in the library, sitting comfortably, wrapped up in a blanket, in the leather chair by the fire. He had to leave for a few minutes just to compose himself and reorder the chaotic jumble of thoughts that were in his mind. The thought of him having developed a conscience made him smile wryly to himself. Over the past four years, he had no thought of anyone, not even himself. Why then, after that evening's kiss, had all that suddenly changed?

When he had arrived in the kitchen, he was grateful to find that there was no one there. He soon found some leftover milk in a churn in the pantry, and he also discovered a small pan hanging on a hook on the wall. Once he had poured a little of the milk into the pan, he placed it on top of the still-warm iron stove. The kitchen at Northleigh had been recently renovated, and all the latest in modern technology had been installed. It was easy for Alex to add a little more fuel to the heart of the stove, and the warming plate soon became hot. After stirring the milk with a spoon, Alex went back to the larder to retrieve a jar of honey he had spotted earlier. As he took the honey off the shelf, he also discovered a bottle of rum that had been so carefully concealed, that it had escaped his notice earlier that day. He brought the jar and bottle into the kitchen and added a couple of teaspoons of honey to the now warm milk and stirred it again.

Just as the milk was about to boil over, Alex removed it from the heat and poured it into two large cups that had recently been washed and placed on the draining board. To one of the cups, he added a generous splash of rum, and then put both of them onto a small tray.

As Alex carried the tray to the library, he began to contemplate the myriad emotions he had felt when he had kissed Octavia. The intensity of the kiss that she initiated, had taken him by surprise, and he could barely master the passion that it had released. When the situation had begun to spiral out of their control, she had not made any effort to stop him. He had known from her reaction to the kiss that she had wanted so much more. She was a beautiful and desirable woman, and he had wanted to seduce her ever since he had arrived at Nortleigh. Then why had he stopped when she had been so willing to give herself entirely to him?

But during the kiss, he had begun to feel something for her that he did not fully understand. And even after the kiss, he was finding it difficult to describe precisely what it was he felt. It was an emotion he had never experienced before. When she had told him about Katie and the sad circumstances of her baby's death, he had felt a compassion for her that had taken him by surprise. Since he had been imprisoned, he rarely thought of anyone but himself; even his own family, whom he loved dearly. But there was something else, something that went beyond the empathy he was experiencing. It went deeper than any sympathetic feelings he vaguely recognised from long ago. Whatever it was, it reached down into the very depths of his soul and affected him deeply.

He had a suspicion, even before the kiss, that this was not going to just be a casual dalliance with a bored widow. An affair that would be over when both parties inevitably tired of each other. But, the alternative frightened him: could it be love? He did not know as he had never experienced the complex and emotional stirrings of a romantic attachment that had been formed out of love. Even before he had been a prisoner, and he still could feel emotions, he had never been in love with a woman.

When Alex returned to the library, carrying two cups of warm, sweetened milk, he had still not answered his question. But when he entered the library and saw Octavia sitting on the floor by the fire with her back propped up against a chair, he was glad that he had not dishonoured her. If he had made love to her, he knew that she would have lived to regret what she had done. And he could not risk losing the fragile trust that he had begun to cultivate with her that evening. He suspected that she just wanted to be comforted and reassured, and he could do that without taking away her virtue.

Before he sat down next to her, he gave her the cup of milk that contained the rum, and she took it from him with a smile. He knew that the alcohol would not only be warming, but it would also relax her mind and would eventually help her sleep. She was still wrapped up in the blanket he had put around her shoulders, but he could see that she had removed her half-boots and stockings, and they were now in a small heap on the floor next to her. After she had taken the cup from him, she enclosed her fingers around it and took a few sips of the milk. 'Thank you, it is delicious,' she said with a sigh, as she leant against him.

'You're welcome,' he said as he began to drink his own milk.

They sat in companionable silence, watching the fire and drinking the milk. 'Don't you ever get lonely?' he said as he continued to stare at the fire, 'staying at Northleigh all year round.'

Octavia shook her head. 'No, not really' she said with a sigh, 'Charles and Olivia keep me busy, and I have no interest in my neighbours, apart from Katie and Freddie, of course. But, the children are growing up, and I will have to venture out into the world at some point. Katie has invited me to go to London with her for the season, but I do not think that it would be fair staying with them, especially now they have a family.'

They continued to stare at the fire until Alex again broke the silence. 'Why did you become a recluse?'

She lifted her head from his shoulder, and for a moment, he thought he had offended her. She sighed and looked at him. 'After my husband's death,' she said, 'it seemed the easiest thing in the world to do.' She put down the empty cup beside her and took in a deep breath. 'I was only fifteen years old when I married Kendall. He was... well let us say, he was old enough to be my grandfather, if not my great-grandfather.'

'Fifteen?' Alex repeated with incredulity, 'you would not have been allowed to be married without the consent of a parent or a guardian. How come they allowed such a match?'

'My brother, Sir Fabian Stretton, arranged the marriage,' she said as she looked into the fire. 'At the time he was not yet Sir Fabian, as my father was still alive, but my brother had managed to persuade him that my marriage would be the only way they could pay their debts. I was the only member of the family that had any money. It wasn't really mine, it was tied up in a trust that my grandfather, my mother's father, had set-up years ago, as part of her marriage settlements to my father. On her death, the whole trust was bequeathed to me, with my father as the sole trustee. The money was in a trust that would be released to me was either on my wedding day as my dowry, where it would be signed over to my husband, or if I remained single, I would have control of it on my thirtieth birthday. Fabian made an agreement with Kendall that if my father gave his consent to my marriage, my dowry, the money from the trust, would be split equally amongst them. I was given no choice in the matter.'

She stopped and looked down at her hands that were resting on her lap. 'On my fifteenth birthday,' she eventually said, 'my father and brother came to the school I was attending and took me away.' She stopped and took a deep breath to compose herself. 'Three days later,' she then added, 'I married Kendall.'

Alex took her hand that was still resting in her lap and held it in his. 'I am sorry,' he said, 'it wasn't a happy marriage, was it?'

'No,' she replied as she held onto his hand a little tighter, 'he married me because he wanted an heir. He had had no children with his first wife, and he desperately wanted a legitimate son to inherit his land and titles. I was to be no more than a vessel to carry his child. I was so innocent. No one had told me what would happen between a man and a woman in the marriage bed. I had been to a girls' school for most of my life. It was a very sheltered existence away from the world. I was horrified when I found out, but there was nothing I could do to stop him, he was my husband, and I was bound to him by a sacred oath.'

Alex looked down at her, and he felt her clasp his fingers again. He could see a look of deep sadness in her eyes that touched him tenderly. 'You do not have to tell me anymore if you don't want to,' he said as he smiled at her.

He saw tears form in the corners of her eyes, and then he saw a few escape down her cheek and splash onto the blanket she had wrapped herself in. 'I want to tell you,' she said as she closed her eyes and bent her head. 'I have never dared to tell anyone before, not even Freddie or Katie. I know that Freddie suspects that I was mistreated, but I have never told him the whole.'

He disengaged his hand from hers and put his arm around her. He then felt her body sink against his own. It was a new experience for him. He had never been a confidant or someone with whom a person naturally shared their problems. But he wanted to help her. Maybe if she confided in him, she would be able to leave the past behind her and begin to make new friends and acquaintances.

'I was terribly unhappy, and I did not understand why he kept hurting me. It was not until two weeks after my marriage, when he first became angry with me, that I began to understand what he was doing. My courses had started, and he told me that I was a failure and needed to be punished. He then humiliated me in front of the servants and later his friends. It was terrible,' she said her voice trembling. 'I would rather not tell you about the mortification and degradation he made me suffer. It is a part of my life that I would like to blot out from my memory. However, one can never forget something as shattering as that. It is seared onto your conscience like a mark from a branding iron, and however much one tries to hide it or rid yourself of it, it will never fade.'

Alex tightened his arm around her and felt an affinity with her. He had suffered at the hands of the French and knew that the pain he had experienced would never leave him. She had been correct in what she said, it was like the scorched surface of the skin that had been made with a branding iron. His soul had been similarly marred with its ugly blemish, and he knew that when one had been touched by it, there was no escape from the resulting brand. However, where she had retreated into solitude and a lonely existence, he had turned to a life of vice, that had not only ruined him but the reputation of others.

After a lengthy silence, she finally said, 'this continued for three months until the doctor confirmed that I was with child. Fortunately, during my pregnancy, he left me alone at Northleigh and went to live in his London townhouse. And then, just a few days after my sixteenth birthday,' she said with a sigh, 'I gave birth to the twins.'

'What about your father and brother?' Alex said in disbelief. He knew that however depraved his behaviour had become or however low he had sunk into corruption; his family always had stood by him through thick and thin. How had she coped without the help of those who should have been caring for her? 'Did they not do anything to help you?' he said curiously.

'My father died a few months after my marriage in suspicious circumstances, and my brother only cares for himself.' She leant her head against his shoulder once more. 'After the twins were born, Kendall left me alone. He was more interested in his mistresses than me, and I was glad that he did. I hated him and what he had done to me. I was glad when in the spring, after the twins were born, he went to London, never to return.'

'I was fortunate. Kendall had made Freddie's father, the late Sir Frederick Sommerville, the sole executor of his will. He was a good friend of my husband, and I know he would have taken Charles away from me, but he died only weeks after Kendall. Freddie, as his only heir, took on the responsibility for us all, and I have always been very grateful to him. He is a good man and has always done what is best for both my children.'

She had indeed been fortunate. Alex had got to know Freddie over the past few months and had been impressed by the way he managed the young Lord Kendall's affairs. Most guardians, in his position, would not have regarded the mother's opinion. However, Sir Freddie was different. He always consulted Octavia on matters that directly concerned her son, including his education.

'He is a good man,' Alex said softly. 'Does he not know how you were treated when you first arrived at Northleigh?'

Octavia shook her head. 'No,' she said with a sigh, 'I could not tell him, and by then it really didn't matter anymore. Most of Kendall's faithful servants had gone with him to London. My husband had left generous portions for them in his will, so they never returned to Northleigh. None of the servants who work here today, except for Tillie, my maid, worked here when my husband was still alive.'

'Octavia,' Alex said as a log fell into the grate of the fire, sending up orangey-yellow sparks high into the air, 'you have two good friends in Sir Freddie and Lady Sommerville. You should tell Lady Sommerville what happened to you. Sometimes just talking can help chase away the pain. Did not John Donne say in his poem, "No man is an island, entire of itself." He was correct. No one can exist without the help of others. We are here to share each other's burdens and make life a little easier for each other.'

'Who do you have?' she asked, looking up at him her mahogany brown eyes shining with an amber hue in the glow of the fire.

'My mother and brother,' he said, still looking down at her. 'We are a very close family.'

'Do you tell them everything?' she asked him. Her eyes were searching for his, and he was feeling a little guilty. They knew of his imprisonment, but he had not told them what he had done. No one could understand what had happened that night four years ago; no one. 'Not everything,' he said, looking away from her. He could not lie to her. She deserved so much better than his half-truths.

He half expected her to get up and leave. Instead, he felt her take his hand in hers and squeeze it tightly. 'You understand,' she said, smiling at him, 'you really do understand how difficult it is.'

He nodded his head and tightened his arm that was already around her waist. 'Yes,' he said as he leant his head against hers. 'I'm afraid I'm good at giving advice, but not putting it into action in my own life.'

'I think we are all a little guilty of that,' she said as she continued to clasp his hand. 'We all think we are an island and can live our own life in isolation without impacting on others, but I am beginning to realise that we cannot. I always thought that if I lock myself away in Northleigh, the world outside would melt away and leave me alone. And, if it was just me, I would remain shut away from the world forever. However,' she said with a sigh, 'it is not just me, is it? I have Olivia and Charles to think about. They cannot be locked away from the outside world, just because I cannot control my own fears.'

'No,' he said gravely, 'they cannot.' He was beginning to understand all the reticence that she had shown regarding the physical punishment of her children. He also understood why she had dismissed Mr Dowle from his position as Charles' tutor. Not only had he disobeyed her instructions, but he had also hurt and humiliated her son. She had not wanted her own child to go through the same indignity that she had gone through at the hands of her husband.

'Since you arrived,' she began to say gently, 'I have come to realise that I was not just wrong hiding myself from the rest of the world, I was also far too protective of my children.'

'I think you are a little harsh on yourself,' Alex said compassionately, 'you are a good mother and your children both love and respect you. It is only natural to want to protect your offspring. I know my own mother, to this day, will fiercely protect my reputation.' He then laughed gently and said, 'I remember one summer my father had let me and my brother go riding alone. We were both young at the time; my brother was thirteen years old, and I was eleven, and we had chosen horses that were far too powerful for us to ride. When I was brought back to the house with a broken arm and leg, she was furious with my father for letting him sanction such a dangerous outing. But my father, despite the accident, had insisted that he was right to let us go. Both my brother and I learnt a valuable lesson that day.'

'What lesson did you learn?' she asked, turning her head to look up at him.

He smiled down at her and said with laughter in his eyes, 'not to fall off a horse.'

She laughed. 'Seriously,' she said as her laughter subsided, 'your mother must have been beside herself.'

'I suspect she was,' he said, smiling down at her. He had been struck by how beautiful she was when she laughed and smiled. It was as though her soul became alive, and it shone through her face. 'But I made a full recovery and was soon about my mischief once more,' he said as he watched her face crinkle with laughter.

When her laughter faded, she sighed and looked thoughtful. 'I cannot help worrying about Charles. I worry that he will be like his father,' she said, as frown lines marred her forehead. 'He does look like him,' she said fearfully.

'But,' Alex said softly, 'he is not him. He is his own person, and you have done the best for him. He is a good lad and cares deeply for both you and his sister. You must not compare him to the late Lord Kendall. He will be nothing like him.'

She nodded her head slowly. 'Yes,' she said, looking up at him and giving him one of her dazzling smiles. 'Of course, Charles is nothing like Kendall and will never be anything like him. He is a good boy.'

They sat together in silence, watching the fire slowly die away into a pile of glowing embers. Her head was still resting on his shoulder, and his arm remained wrapped around her so that his hand was resting on her hip. It was strange that the passion of the kiss now seemed a distant memory. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the tenderness that she had evoked in him. He was falling in love with her, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. What surprised him, more than anything else, was how comfortable he was with that thought.
Chapter 14

The clock on the mantlepiece chimed the hour twice. The gentle ring of the bell awoke her from her reverie, and she thought about what they had just discussed. He had told her that she was a good mother, and he had also told her that there was nothing wrong with wanting to protect those you love. She had confided in him her fears about Charles behaving like her late husband. Of course, he had been quite correct, having a resemblance to his father did not necessarily mean that her son would automatically behave like him. Why should he? Charles was a unique person in his own right, and he had never shown any of the defective character traits common to his father, the late Lord Kendall.

The chimes heralded to the world that it was now two o'clock in the morning. Octavia was finding it difficult to believe that two hours had passed since she had arrived home at Northleigh. She was sitting on the floor in the library, with her back propped up against a chair next to Alex. For the first time, in a very long time, she felt peaceful.

Over the past couple of hours, he had become so much more than her son's tutor. He had become her friend and confidante. She had confided in him all the secrets she had locked away for many years. Those painful memories that she had been unable to tell anyone, not even her dearest and closest friend, Katie. When Kendall had died, she had buried them deep within her and had tried to control the emotional damage that even just thinking about them could evoke. As a consequence of her husband's death, she had locked herself away in Northleigh and had had limited interactions with her neighbours.

She had felt that he had understood her when he had quoted Donne and said, "no man is an island." She had heard that poem many times, but, for the first time in her life, she now understood the poet's meaning. It is impossible to live life without interacting with the rest of the world. Every action that one does has an effect on someone else. She had thought that retreating from the world and living a life of seclusion would harm no one. However, she was beginning to realise that that was impossible, and her continued isolation could potentially damage her children's chances in life.

'Thank you,' she said as she smiled up at him, 'you are right. Charles is nothing like his father, and I should not worry about him. He is a good boy, and I certainly cannot protect him forever. It would be wrong for him to stay here just because I want him to. He will learn to make his own mistakes, and hopefully, he will learn from them.'

'And what about you?' Alex said to her gently, 'what are you going to do?'

Octavia sighed. 'I will have to do what Katie has been urging me to do for some time, I will go to London for the season. I need to establish myself in society before Olivia's come-out.'

'Good,' he said, 'you are making the right decision. But what will you do once you are part of society?'

Octavia, whose head had been resting on his shoulder, lifted it up to look at him. 'Me?' she said with a look of surprise on her face. She had never thought of her future, only the children's. 'I know I will have to leave Northleigh one day. I cannot stay here when Charles brings his wife to her new home. She will be the mistress of Northleigh, and I would not want to usurp her position. I suppose I will stay here and look after the house until then.'

'You should marry again,' he said quietly, 'to a man like Freddie, who will look after you and the children.'

Octavia shook her head. 'I do not think I could marry again,' she said softly, 'you know the saying "once bitten, twice shy."'

'Yes,' he replied, 'I have. But, not all men are like your first husband, or me for that matter.'

Octavia looked up at him. 'You are nothing like Kendall,' she said forcefully, 'nothing.'

'Octavia,' Alex said with a sigh, 'I am afraid I am more like your husband than you will ever know.'

Octavia lifted her hand, touched his cheek and shook her head. He had been so kind and gentle to her over the past few hours. It made her quite angry to think of him comparing himself to her husband. 'No,' she said vehemently, 'I will not let you say that. You are nothing like him.'

'I should never have kissed you,' he said, breaking the long silence. 'I had every intention of dishonouring you. But...'

Octavia laughed softly and touched his lips with her fingers to quieten him. 'And, I had every intention of accepting your advances,' she said as she felt her cheeks flush, but she refused to look away. 'I would not have stopped you earlier,' she said truthfully. As she cupped his cheek in her hand, she could feel the passion for him well up deep within her. 'And, I would not stop you now,' she said in a faint whisper, hoping that he would change his mind.

He took her hand and brought it down from his face, shaking his head from side to side. As he held her hands in his, she felt a little disappointed. 'I will not take advantage of you,' he said as he continued to hold her hand. 'I am not the person you think I am,' he said wistfully, 'you deserve someone far better than me.'

Octavia shook her head. 'No,' she said as she felt tears sting the corners of her eyes. She loved him. It had taken her a few weeks to come to that conclusion, but she knew it was the truth. 'I love you,' she said as she looked down at her hands that were still entwined in his.

'Octavia,' she heard him say in a fierce whisper, 'my dear Octavia.' She then felt his arms encircle her waist, and he held her close. In response to his embrace, she wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head against his chest. It felt comforting to be close to him once more and to hear the gentle rhythm of his heart. She felt, for the first time in her life, like it was where she truly belonged. She closed her eyes and savoured the sweet sensations that their intimacy aroused in her. And, she willed the clock on the mantlepiece to stop, so that their shared moment would last forever.

But, to her disappointment, the embrace soon came to an end, and it was with deep regret that she felt the muscles in his arms tense. Then she was aware of his hands resting on her shoulders, as he gently pushed her away from him. 'No,' he said, shaking his head, 'I will not.' His voice was barely audible, and she knew that he was talking to himself, not her. He then stood up and raked his fingers through his hair. His expression looked bleak, and Octavia could sense the conflict that was raging in him. He walked over to his jacket that he had discarded on the floor earlier that evening. 'You are worth so much more than this,' he eventually said in a controlled voice as he picked his jacket from the floor. 'You deserve someone who will be able to return your love. Not someone like me,' he said bitterly as he shrugged his jacket onto his shoulders. 'I would only end up hurting you,' he said grimly as he looked down at his feet.

As he spoke, Octavia began to feel a little detached from herself. It felt as though something quite precious was slipping away from her, and there was nothing she could do to prevent it from disappearing entirely into the ether. He then looked at her, and she recognised the look of torment in his eyes because she had felt the same anguish after her husband's death. 'What happened to you?' she said, refusing to remove her eyes from his gaze. He remained silent and continued to look at her with that haunted look in his eyes. She stood up, discarding the blanket that she had wrapped around her shoulders and walked over to him. When she stood in front of him, she reached out her hand and touched his arm. 'I understand,' she said softly, 'I do understand the pain.'

Alex shook his head slowly. 'You cannot compare what happened to me with what happened to you,' he said bitterly. 'Believe me, I am not worth it.'

'No,' she said firmly as she smiled up at him, 'you are. You are a good man; an honourable man.'

He closed his eyes and shook his head. 'No, Lady Kendall,' he said regretfully, 'I am neither.'

Octavia felt her heart sink further as he, once more, addressed her using her title. Over the past couple of hours, she had felt an affection for him blossom into something deeper and more intense than just friendship. He had been the only person who had understood her need to cut herself off from society. How could their relationship slip back to what it had been? He could never just be the tutor of her son; he had become so much more to her than that. 'Oh, Alex,' she eventually said after what felt like a protracted silence, 'I am sorry.'

'You have nothing to be sorry for,' he said rather brusquely, 'the only person who should be sorry is me.'

'No,' Octavia replied firmly, 'it is not true. Anyway, you need not apologise to me.'

'But, Lady Kendall, you do not understand,' he said with an uneasy look in his eyes, 'I am not who you think I am.'

'Oh, Alex,' Octavia said with a sigh, 'I do wish you would stop calling me Lady Kendall and tell me what is troubling you.'

Octavia could see from the troubled look in his eyes, that there was a war raging inside him. She could see him slowly shake his head, and she knew that she was losing the battle. She instinctively squeezed his arm and continued to look at him. 'You told me, less than an hour ago, that "no man is an island." And that I should share my hopes and fears with my friends. You have told no one about what happened to you, not even your family. Tell me,' she said earnestly, 'talk to me, please.'

Alex looked at her, smiled ruefully and took her hand. 'It is too late for me,' he said regretfully, 'too late for me to change.'

'No,' she said again, 'it is never too late. I know how difficult it is to tell someone your deepest secrets and fears. I do understand,' she said as she looked into his eyes imploringly.

'Octavia,' he said tenderly, 'my dearest Octavia.' He lifted her hand to his lips and gently kissed her fingers. 'I know you understand. But...' he stopped as he lowered her hands and then let go of them. 'I have done terrible things, and I am deeply ashamed of what I have done.'

She sat down on one of the leather chairs. 'Alex,' she said gently, 'sit down and tell me what troubles you.'

Alex sat down in the chair opposite hers. He closed his eyes, sighed and leant back in the chair. 'From a young boy,' he began slowly, 'I was destined for a military career. It had been the family tradition for generations. The elder son inherits the title and lands, and the younger joins a cavalry regiment. I had no particular desire for a military career, but it was my duty, and to my family, especially my father, duty always came before one's own wishes.'

'After Eton, I went to Oxford to read the Classics. I loved every minute of my three years there. I worked harder, harder than any of my friends and left with a first. I thought about joining the church, but I had made a promise to my father before he died. The second son always became a cavalry officer after completing university, and that was my destiny.'

In the silence that followed, Octavia did not say anything. She knew all too well, what it was like to be out of control of one's own destiny, and to have one's future mapped out by others. She knew what it was like to have one's hopes and dreams for the future to be destroyed. She curled up on the chair and waited for him to continue.

'I had an uncle,' he eventually said, 'my father's brother, who had been a distinguished cavalry officer. He managed to get me a commission in his old regiment The Queen's Lancers, and I was shipped off to Spain just in time for the battle of Talavera.'

Octavia was not familiar with all the battles of the Peninsular War against Napoleon's armies, but she did know the names of the more famous battles. 'Talavera,' she whispered, 'that was a great victory for the allies.'

'Yes,' he replied somberly, 'it was also my first taste of battle, and to my surprise, I found I quite liked it. It was easier to kill in the heat of battle than I thought it would be. I soon began to think of the French as the enemy, not as men with their own dreams and aspirations.'

'I also liked the discipline and the camaraderie that a military life brought. After the battle of Talavera, I threw myself into military life and found that I enjoyed it.'

'There is nothing so wrong with that,' Octavia said, 'you would have been miserable if you did not like your new life.'

'I began to learn Spanish from the local partisans we met. I already spoke French and German fluently, and I also had a little Italian. Within a few months, I had mastered the language. I soon came to the attention of Colonel Haverstock. He was an intelligence officer who would ride behind enemy lines gathering information. He recruited men that he thought would be able to blend in with the locals. I was flattered when he asked me if I would work for him. It was a great honour to be personally selected. I worked as a reconnaissance officer for nearly four years, spending most of my time with the partisans and even fighting alongside them.'

'What happened?' she said after a lull in the conversation.

'It was the beginning of June 1813, just a few weeks before Vitoria. I was at Tarragona gathering intelligence with a good friend of mine, John Adams.' Octavia could see him smile at the memory of his old friend. 'We had been in many scrapes together and trusted each other with our lives. On a fairly routine mission, we were captured by the French. When we were caught, we were not wearing uniforms. We had known that without the protection of our uniform, the French would not treat us well.'

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and Octavia could sense the pain he was feeling reliving the memory of his capture. 'They began to torture us. Not all at the same time,' he said, 'they started on Adams first. They made me watch, but there was nothing I could do without betraying others. And Adams, even though he was in agony, never betrayed his friends or his country. There was nothing I could do except sit on the cold stone floor, chained to the wall and wait for them to finish with him and start on me. After two days, Adams was barely alive. He was blind and in agony.'

He closed his eyes and sighed. 'He asked me to kill him,' he said quietly, 'he said that he could not take any more torture, and he ordered me as his friend to kill him.'

'Oh, Alex,' Octavia said, 'no one should live with that guilt. Did you? 'she stopped and looked at him with troubled eyes, 'did you grant him his request?'

'I had no other choice,' he said his voice full of regret. 'He was becoming delirious, and I could not risk him telling them about the positions of our own troops. Many more, apart from us, would have died.'

'If I had waited, just ten more minutes, I could have saved him,' he said desolately. 'One of the partisans, who had escaped when we were captured, somehow managed to get into the castle. I escaped, my friend did not.'

They sat in silence for some time. The fire had died away, and all that was left were the glowing embers of the wood. 'I will not say that you were right to kill him,' Octavia eventually said, 'it is easy to judge our actions on hindsight. Your friend might have been alive today if you had not killed him. You may have been able to take him with you when you made your escape, there again, he may have been so badly injured that he would have slowed you down. You made a decision, in the heat of the moment, and you have to live with the consequences.'

'But, Octavia,' he said to her in a steady voice, 'if that was all. After I killed John, I started drinking heavily and then...' he stopped and looked at her. Octavia could see tears welling in his eyes. In all her years, she had never seen a man cry, and the sight of Alex with tears in his eyes touched her heart.

Octavia stood up and walked over to his chair and put her hand on his shoulder. 'The guilt of your friend's death may never go away,' she said quietly, 'and would it be right if it did? It is something you will have to live and come to terms with. I should know,' she said softly, 'I can never forget what Kendall did to me, but...' She stopped and looked at him and smiled. 'I know this sounds strange,' she eventually said, 'but I would not change the past. I would lose the people who are most dear to me, Charles and Olivia. Their very existence came from that pain and suffering, without it, they would not have lived.'

She could feel him take her hand and hold it tightly. 'But, Octavia,' he said in despair, 'since then, I have done unforgivable things.'

'Then you must put them right,' she said, smiling at him. 'No one is beyond redemption. You just have to find the strength inside yourself to change.'

'I don't know if I can,' he said, his voice full of anguish, 'I fear it is too late.'

'No,' she said fiercely, 'it is never too late. You must go and tell your family everything that has happened to you. It will not erase the past, that, unfortunately, is set in stone, but we can use it to mould our future and do something useful with our lives. I have to believe that, or I would just have given up years ago. They will be able to help you put your life back together.'

Chapter 15

Later that morning, when Alex had eventually returned to the Dower house, he lay awake in bed, while her words echoed in his mind. 'No one is beyond redemption,' she had said to him only a few hours ago, 'you just have to find the strength inside yourself to change.' But, did he have it within himself the will to make that change? He had tried to break free from the past after Waterloo. He had thought that returning to London and his family would have given him the determination and the chance to transform back to the man he once had been. However, he had started drinking heavily and had begun to partake in the seedy amusements that London had to offer. And, it had not taken him long to fall back into the wrong company he had associated with when he was in Brussels.

He felt ashamed of himself when he thought about what he had done when he had been in Brussels. Up until then, he had lived a somewhat rackety lifestyle, but he had been careful not to harm anyone else. However, when he had arrived in Brussels, during the build-up to the battle of Waterloo, all that changed. He had joined a gentleman's club that he soon found out catered for his baser side. The club was run by a gentleman, Major Ellington, who had also been a cavalry officer. Alex, after losing the rest of his depleted fortune that his father left him, soon racked up debts on the gaming tables. He owed Major Ellington a small fortune that he could not repay. Alex had thought that Ellington had been very generous when he had come to a mutual arrangement with him. All he had to do, when he did not have any regimental duties, was collect unpaid debts from the club's clients who reneged on their payments. However, it soon became apparent that he was expected to do much more than just collect money.

Alex soon became immune to the initial waves of guilt he had felt when he had had to intimidate and terrorise the men in debt to Ellington. He was also aware that Ellington was manipulating him, but by now he was so deeply involved in his world of vice, that he could not break free from its hold. He was rarely sober, and he had even begun to smoke opium to ease the powerful feelings of self-loathing that he felt. All he had managed to do, was replace one source of guilt with another, and this had left him feeling empty and very alone.

On his return to London, after the fiercest battle he had ever witnessed, he had tried to avoid Ellington. He had wanted to break free from the man's control, but his lifestyle and the people he associated with had made that impossible. It was not until Ellington's sudden and unexpected disappearance last year that he had finally managed to break free.

If only she knew the depts of depravity, he had sunk during that time. She would certainly change her mind and think that he was beyond redemption. How could anyone who had done what he had done, ever change? Can a leopard truly change its spots? Can someone far worse than a rake or a libertine change his dissolute ways? It was a question he was not sure he would ever be able to answer.

After Tarragona, when he had killed John and had returned a hero, he had begun to have terrible dreams in which he relived the ghastly incident over and over again in painful detail. Initially, he had started to drink to dull those painful memories. He was not a hero, and he despised how he was treated by his friends and colleagues. He had deserved to die in place of John, he should not be living the life of a hero.

He quickly discovered that the more he imbibed, the more erratic and debauched his behaviour became. His close friends, disgusted by the sudden change in his conduct, soon distanced themselves from his depraved behaviour. Despite trying to block out the traumatic memories with drinking, he could still not shake off that feeling of guilt.

He had, on numerous occasions, refused his family's help, and during his time in Brussels, he had lost the last of his substantial inheritance he had acquired upon the death of his father. Could he now reverse all those years of damage? Could he really change and become the person he had been before his capture?

Octavia believed he could. But would her belief in him be enough?

She had not shrunk back in disgust or spoken words of condemnation when he had told her about the death of his friend. He knew that he did not deserve her sympathy or her words of comfort, but nevertheless, she had given them freely.

He had felt guilty. Even though she had been through an experience far worse than his, unlike him, she had not gone into a spiral of self-pity. At least he had had a choice. He had chosen to go on the mission, and he knew full well the consequences of being caught by the enemy, not wearing the protection of a uniform. She had been forced into marriage when she was still only a child and had been cruelly treated and humiliated by her husband. If anything, her experience had given her life meaning.

He had lived with regret and would have done anything to alter his past. However, she had told him that even if she could, she would not change anything about hers. She told him that any changes to her past would result in the loss of her children, "the people who are most dear to me." She did not associate their existence with the pain and degradation she had no doubt suffered at their conception.

As he sat down on the side of his bed, he knew that he must do the same. He must come to terms with what he did at Tarragona so that he could live in the present without that constant feeling of remorse that had been continually gnawing away at him. He also had to make amends for all the terrible things he had done in the intervening time. It was no good pretending that they did not happen or blame it on an event that occurred four years ago. No, he would not forget what he had done. Instead, he would do all in his power to make amends for them.

He walked over to the mirror that was propped up on the dresser. He looked at his reflection and took a deep breath. 'No more drinking,' he said in a low steady voice. He clenched his fists tightly and closed his eyes and took in another deep breath. The solemnity of the occasion had struck him. There may have been no physical witnesses in his bedchamber to confirm his oaths, but he knew that his conscience would bind them to him.

'I will not drink another drop of liquor or any other intoxicating drink,' he said firmly to his reflection. 'And, I will do all in my power to right the wrongs I have done,' he said gravely. 'I may not deserve forgiveness from those I have wronged,' he then added, 'but I will strive to correct the mistakes I have made.'

Alex closed his eyes and walked back to his bed and sat down. Tonight, he had come to a momentous decision. The rest of his life would be different. She had told him, 'no one is beyond redemption.' He was going to put those words to the test and find the inner strength to carry out what he had to do. The woman he cared for deeply, and possibly even loved, believed in him and he owed it to her to prove her right.

Alex got into bed, blew out the candle on the table next to him and lay down and tried to get some sleep.

'Sir Freddie,' Alex said with some surprise, 'what brings you to the Dower House so early in the morning? Please, take a seat,' he said as he motioned to a chair by the unlit fire.

It had been nearly two weeks since he had made that promise to himself, and it had not been easy to put a stop to such a deeply ingrained habit. Drinking had become such an integral part of his life that it had been difficult to exercise the self-control he needed to stop. However, he had managed to control the persistent cravings and had not touched a drop since that night in the library with Lady Kendall.

During the past two weeks, he had only been able to snatch a few minutes of conversation with Octavia. She had spent much of her time at Evesham taking care of Lady Sommerville, and on the odd occasion when they had met, their conversation had been solely about Charles' education. However, there had been something a little different about them. Her smile, when they had spoken together, had been warm and genuine. She had even addressed him as her dear friend, an accolade he felt he did not deserve.

'No, thank you,' Sir Freddie replied sternly. Alex could not help but notice the grim expression on Sir Freddie's face, and it filled him with a sense of foreboding. 'I would rather stand.'

It had been three weeks since the traumatic events at Evesham, and it was evident that the events of that night were still affecting Sir Freddie. He looked pale and weary, with dark smudges under his eyes. Alex felt awkward in his presence but decided to sit down in one of the chairs in the cold drawing-room.

'I have just received a letter from London,' Sir Freddie then said as he held out a letter to Alex.

Alex took the letter, and as he read it carefully, the blood drained from his face, and he could feel what felt like cold icy fingers grip around his heart.

'Is it true?' Sir Freddie said firmly.

Alex nodded.

The letter was long, and the neat copperplate writing made it look official. Every illicit activity, he had been involved with since he had arrived in Brussels; including extortion, blackmail and prostitution had been included in that letter.

'Yes,' Alex said as he continued to stare at the letter that he now clutched tightly in his hand. There was no point denying the truth. Anyway, he had to face up to his past sooner or later. 'Yes,' he said in a clear voice as he looked at Sir Freddie in the eyes, 'yes, I did.'

There was a long silence, and Alex could see by the grim expression on Sir Freddie's face that he was furious with him. Alex could hardly blame him; he had every right to be angry.

'I should challenge you,' Sir Freddie eventually said, his voice calm but full of anger, 'but I do not want to bring any disgrace to Lady Kendall and her household. After everything she has been through over the years, she deserves better than this.'

'Yes,' Alex answered meekly, 'yes, she does.'

Fury flashed in Sir Freddie's eyes. 'You haven't,' he broke off mid-sentence and took a step towards Alex, his fists clenched by his side, 'you haven't dishonoured her, have you? If you have, I'll kill you right here and now and to hell with the consequences.'

'No,' Alex replied calmly, 'I have not.'

Sir Freddie shook his head and took a deep breath. 'I want you out of here in one hour,' he said through gritted teeth, 'one hour.'

Alex nodded. 'I will prepare to leave immediately.'

'Make certain that you do. If I see you when I return, I will kill you,' Sir Freddie said coldly.

'Do not fear,' Alex said bleakly, 'by the time you return, I will be long gone.'
Chapter 16

London: May 1818

'This is exciting,' Katie said as she linked her arm through Octavia's arm, 'aren't you glad you agreed to come?'

The two friends were enjoying a quiet morning stroll in Hyde Park, along with William, Katie's son and Olivia. They had all arrived in London a couple of weeks ago before the season had begun. Katie had wanted to arrive early so that they could both, in Katie's words, "kit themselves out for the upcoming season." And, since they had arrived, Katie had been doing just that. Octavia was certain that they had visited every single shop on Bond Street at least twice and that they had bought at least half the contents of each shop. She had spent a small fortune on bonnets, gloves and numerous accessories that she could not even remember purchasing, and that was even before they had visited the exclusive boutique, where both women were measured for an entire new wardrobe of dresses. Octavia could not believe that she would need as many new clothes, but Katie had said that if one wanted to cut a dash, then one needed to look the part. Octavia was not at all sure that she had wanted "to cut a dash," but Katie had promised to make this season rememberable. And, according to Katie, that meant being dressed in the first stare of fashion.

Katie had not accompanied her husband to London for the previous season. She had still not fully recovered her strength after the birth of her son, and she was still grieving for the death of her younger son, who she had named, Henry. She had told Octavia that she had decided to stay in Yorkshire so that she could recuperate her strength. However, Octavia suspected that they had quarrelled, and Freddie had gone away to put a little distance between himself and his wife. Since the terrible events of that night when her son had been stillborn, Katie had changed. She was no longer the carefree woman with a wicked sense of humour, who loved life to the full; she had become lethargic and tired.

When Freddie's absence that should have been for a few weeks, stretched out into months, Octavia became increasingly worried for her friend's health. It saddened Octavia to see her once gregarious friend shutting herself away from the world and refusing to see visitors. Therefore, Octavia had decided to take matters into her own hands. She had managed to persuade Katie that she was ready to put aside her own years of seclusion and rejoin society. She was sure that this was the challenge that Katie had needed to cheer her up. And when Octavia had told her about her plan, Katie had willingly taken up the gauntlet. She had accompanied Octavia to the local assemblies in Harrogate and York and introduced her to all their neighbours. Far from disliking the experience, Octavia, to her surprise, soon discovered that she liked the company of others. And, when Freddie finally returned in the autumn, nearly five months after he had left for London, to accompany Charles to Eton, Octavia still regularly accompanied her to selected social functions.

Octavia had not been sure whether she should accept the invitation to join them for the season in London at Sommerville House, but they had both been very persuasive. Octavia suspected that she was invited to provide a buffer between the two still warring factions. These days, they barely talked to each other, and Octavia was worried that their relationship would soon be broken beyond repair. However, Katie had said she was ready to make up for the lost season, and she was planning on attending as many _ton_ events as she could possibly squeeze into the next few months. She was determined to introduce her friend to as many eligible gentlemen as she could find, and maybe flirt a little herself.

Octavia smiled at Katie and squeezed her arm. 'Yes,' she said, smiling at her, 'I am glad I came. I never knew there could be so much green in London. It is like we have walked into the countryside.'

'I told you that London was not all pavements and buildings. Hyde Park is an oasis in the middle of the city. Once the rest of the _ton_ arrive,' she said as she looked around her, 'the park will be crowded at this time of day. It will be the perfect time for us to show off our new wardrobe.'

'Thank you for inviting me and letting me stay at Sommerville House,' Octavia said gravely, 'you and Freddie have been so very kind to me.'

'Nonsense,' Katie said dismissively, 'I have been trying to persuade you to come to London for the season for years. And I am determined that you are going to enjoy yourself. Our new dresses will be arriving this afternoon, and I can hardly wait to wear them.'

Olivia, who had joined them for the morning walk, skipped up to them. 'Mama, Lady Sommerville,' she declared, her eyes shining with excitement, 'I am so looking forward to going to Gunter's for my first ice. I have heard that they are absolutely heavenly. Charles will be green with envy when I write to tell him I have had one.'

'I am sure he will,' Octavia said affectionately. Charles had been at Eton since last autumn, and he had been enjoying every minute of his time at school. His weekly letters to his sister and mother had been full of all the new things he had learnt and lengthy descriptions of the friends he had made. She was looking forward to the end of the season when she was going to pick him up from school and take him home for the holidays.

'I am looking forward to my ice as well,' Katie said, smiling down at the girl, 'and I must admit that I could do with a cup of tea. I will instruct the nurse to take William home, and we can then take a hackney to Gunter's.'

Just as Katie had issued the orders to the nurse, a gentleman and lady, dressed in the first stare of fashion, walked past them. The lady, who Octavia judged to be about her own age, was walking arm in arm with a very distinguished-looking gentleman, about twenty years her senior.

As they walked past, the woman caught Octavia's eye and stared at her. Octavia thought that there was something familiar about her features, but she could not place where she had seen her before.

'Octavia Stretton,' she heard her call out loudly after they had walked past, 'I do not believe it!'

Octavia and Katie both turned around and looked at her with a puzzled expression on both their faces. 'And, Katie Wildman,' she said her voice now full of enthusiasm, 'well I never.'

After several minutes of staring at her, Katie recognised her first. 'Flora,' she said eagerly, 'Flora Worth. It has been years since I have seen you.'

Octavia looked at her old school friend in disbelief. It had been nearly twelve years, since her fifteenth birthday party, when she had last seen her, but the years seemed to tumble away at the sight of her.

The three women stood in the path and excitedly hugged each other. 'I cannot believe it,' Flora said, 'I cannot believe that I have bumped into my two dearest friends after all these years.'

She then turned around to the handsome older gentleman who was standing gravely behind her, looking at the scene through his quizzing glass. Octavia thought that he looked, as he examined the group, somewhat intimidating, but when he spoke, she could not mistake the affection in his voice. 'Are you going to introduce me to your friends, my dear?' he said as he slowly lowered the glass from his eye.

'Of course,' Flora said eagerly, 'where are my manners. These are my two dearest friends from school...' She stopped and looked at them apologetically. 'I am sorry,' she said, 'I know you are both married but...'

Katie smiled and touched her arm. 'Do not worry,' she said, 'I will make the introductions.' She looked over at Octavia and said, 'Lady Kendall.'

Octavia curtsied to him when her name was mentioned. 'And I am Lady Sommerville,' she said as she made her curtsy to him.

Flora, who was still smiling broadly, looked up to the gentleman. 'May I introduce my husband, the Duke of Tyne.'

Octavia and Katie stared at their friend in disbelief. She was not familiar with all the prominent members of society, but even she was aware that his grace, the Duke of Newbury, was one of the wealthiest and most powerful men in the country.

'I know,' Flora said, as though she could read their minds, 'it is a shock to find out that I am, of all people, a duchess. I cannot quite believe it myself.'

There was another silence as both Octavia and Katie digested the news that their friend had shared.

'Oh,' said Flora with a big smile on her face, 'who is this?'

Olivia, having observed the meeting at a distance, was curious to see who her mother was talking to. 'This is my daughter, Lady Olivia Sorrell,' Octavia said.

Olivia took this as her queue and curtsied to the strangers. Flora smiled at her. 'I hope you do not mind me asking,' she said kindly, 'but how old are you?'

'Eleven,' she said quietly in a barely audible voice.

'What a marvellous coincidence,' Flora replied, 'my step-daughter is the same age as you. I know she would love to meet you; she does find us adults' tedious company sometimes.'

Olivia smiled. 'Yes,' she said, her voice a little bolder, 'I would like that very much.'

'Good,' said Flora, 'you must all come over to tea this afternoon, and you can meet Lady Sophia.'

During the afternoon, after their initial meeting in Hyde Park, Olivia and Lady Sophia were well on the way to establishing a friendship that would, no doubt, last a lifetime. It pleased Octavia to find that the two young ladies had a good deal in common. They had both lived quietly in the country, with minimal contact with the outside world, and it was their first visit to London. Olivia could hardly contain her excitement when she had asked her mother whether she could accompany Lady Sophia and the Duke on an exhibition to the Tower of London.

While the two girls were making plans together to alleviate the boredom of being cooped up all day indoors, the three recently reacquainted friends sat in the opulent splendour of Holloway House, drinking tea from delicate porcelain cups. Katie, her curiosity getting the better of her, began to ask Flora some leading questions. 'But, Flo,' she said, looking at her head slightly cocked to one side, 'last time I spoke to you, you were planning to stay at school and become a junior mistress. How did you end up being the mistress of Holloway House?'

'I had,' Flora said with a twinkle in her eyes, 'I was there for three years, living the life of a respectable schoolmistress. But, you know me,' she said leaning forward and lowering her voice, 'I was desperate to see the world, so I applied for a job as a governess to a family that spent most of the year living in London.'

'Well,' she continued, 'to cut a long story short, I soon found that the position did not suit me, and I had to leave without a reference. You can imagine that I found it very difficult to find another position. Who would let a governess, with a questionable reputation, look after their daughters? I had almost given up hope of finding anything when a stroke of good fortune brought me to the doors of St Margaret's, a school for disadvantaged girls. My mother-in-law, the Dowager Duchess of Tyne, happened to be a governor of the school and, to cut another long story short, she asked me to become Sophia's governess.'

'That, Flora,' Katie said after a lull in the conversation, 'only explains how you became Lady Sophia's governess. My question still remains unanswered. How did you become the mistress of Holloway House?'

'He was quite hostile to me at first. Let us just say that we took an instant dislike to each other and leave it at that. I was the opposite of his wife, who had died when Sophia was eight. But, with a little help from her grace, we soon became... friends.'

'We married just before Christmas and Gilly and her grace are both determined to launch me into society. I am so glad that I met you, I was afraid that I would not know anyone here.'

'I would not worry about your introduction to society,' Katie said as a matter of fact, 'I have never met your mother-in-law, but they say she is one of society's grand dames and no one would dare to cross her. I am certain that with her by your side, you will be received in the most exclusive drawing-rooms.'

'I do hope so,' Flora said, 'I am sure that many members of the _ton_ have thought that my marriage to Gilly is far from respectable. A duke does not marry his governess, however much he may love her. It is just not the done thing.'

'I would not worry about that,' Katie said dismissively, 'with her grace's support, you will be accepted.'

'That reminds me,' Flora said suddenly, 'I am so glad I remembered, I can be so forgetful at times. My mother-in-law is organising a dinner party to introduce me to the family and some of her friends. I am not just scared at the thought of meeting them; I am petrified,' she said, her eyes wide with apprehension. 'One of my mother-in-law's dearest friends just happens to be one of the dragons that preside over Almack's. Can you imagine that?' she said as she sat up straight in her chair. 'And, I have to be the hostess for this party of exalted guests? I would like to gather together as many of my friends as I can to give me a little encouragement. But I find I do not have any here in London that I can invite. Please, say you will come,' she added imploringly.

The last thing Octavia wanted to do was to attend one of her first society functions, with one of the patronesses of Almack's in attendance. However, she was soon to discover that she had very little choice in the matter.

'Of course,' Katie said brightly. Octavia knew that Katie would not be phased by attending such a grand event. As usual, she would take it all in her stride. 'As long as it is not next Tuesday. Freddie's aunt is celebrating her birthday, and we have to attend the protracted celebrations.'

'Oh dear,' Flora said, disappointment evident in her voice, 'for that was the very evening it was to be held.'

'Do not worry, Flora,' Katie said brightly, touching her friend's arm reassuringly. 'Octavia will still be able to attend. It will be good for her to be introduced to one of the old dragons that guard the haloed doors of Almack's. During the last week, I have been trying to think of a way to apply for vouchers for Octavia.'

Octavia, who had only recently started to move once more in society, did not like the idea of attending a dinner engagement with the créam de la créam of the _ton._ She shivered and hoped that her friends did not sense her unease. However, Flora, who must have been having similar reservations, just patted her hand reassuringly. 'I think that is a capital idea,' she said brightly, 'we will be able to look after each other.'

Octavia nodded. She could not be so churlish as to refuse her friend's request, however reticent she was about attending. 'Of course, I will come,' she said, smiling at her with as much confidence as she could muster.

'Excellent,' Flora said emphatically, 'I am so glad that is settled. We will also be hosting a ball at Holloway House the following week.' She then added, 'and, I will not take any excuse from either of you.'

'I would not miss a ball in this grand house for all the tea in China,' Katie proclaimed.
Chapter 17

'You look beautiful,' Katie said with a sigh as she stood behind Octavia and looked at her friend's reflection in the cheval glass mirror.

Octavia, who was also examining her own reflection in the glass, was not as enthusiastic as Katie about her appearance. In fact, she barely recognised the fashionably dressed woman, who stood elegantly in front of the mirror.

The gown she wore was made from the most beautiful deep orange silk, that glistened with gold as it caught the light from the candles. It had a fashionably high waist and was made from the finest quality silk and felt smooth and sleek to the touch. The material needed little decoration, and it hung from her waist and accentuated the curves of her body. The only embellishments the modiste had included, were short puffed sleeves and a small train at the back that dragged elegantly on the floor as she walked.

'Is it not a little... fast?' Octavia said as she continued to look at her reflection critically. 'I think that the modiste has cut the neckline far too low.'

Katie laughed softly. 'Do not go all prudish on me,' she said her eyes dancing with laughter. 'It is low, but it is the fashion to show off your décolletage,' she said, still smiling, 'and you, my dear, should not be ashamed of yours. You have a lovely figure that can be shown to good advantage by a well-cut gown.'

'But,' Octavia said to Katie with a furrowed brow, 'it is just a private dinner. Do you think that I am a little overdressed?'

'Pooh,' exclaimed Katie dismissively. 'At Holloway House,' she declared, 'there is no such thing as "just a private dinner." The dowager will see to that, for that I am certain. She wants Flora, her new daughter-in-law, to meet the ton.' Katie walked over to the dresser and picked up Octavia's cream silk evening gloves. 'Now,' she said with the authority that brooked no argument, 'put these on.'

Octavia meekly did as she was told and put on the long evening gloves that went past her elbows and half-way up her upper arm.

Katie once more looked at her friend with satisfaction. 'Perfect,' she said as she carefully brushed a small piece of lint from Octavia's dress, 'all we have to do now is select a piece of jewellery from the famous Kendall Jewels.'

The Kendall Jewels had not been worn since the death of her husband's late mother, who had assembled the collection during the last century. Her son, the late Lord Kendall, had been so protective about his mother's collection of jewels, that he had not even permitted his first wife to wear them. Even though Octavia had been aware of the existence of the jewels, it was not until that afternoon, when Freddie had returned from the bank with a selection of the best pieces, that she had become aware of the extent of the collection. 'I would rather just wear my locket,' Octavia said stubbornly, 'I think that the gold would match the dress perfectly.'

Katie sighed. 'Octavia,' she said in a stern voice, 'you are, whether you like it or not, the Countess of Kendall. And, on occasions such as these, you must adorn yourself in jewels.'

Octavia opened her mouth to reply but stopped short when Katie held aloft a staying hand. 'No, I will not argue with you,' she said with a sigh. Then, much to Octavia's dismay, her friend turned around and began to root around in the box to find something suitable for her to wear.

'Ah-ha!' Katie exclaimed after a few minutes had passed, 'these will be just the thing to impress those old dragons and have admirers falling at your feet.'

Octavia gasped as Katie removed a stunningly beautiful necklace from a flat black box. 'Oh, Katie,' she said in awe as the light from the candles caught the facets of the jewels and was scattered in a hundred rainbows, 'they are beautiful.'

Octavia touched the brilliantly clear stones with her fingers as Katie fastened the clasp around the back of her neck. 'I cannot wear these,' she said in awe as they twinkled brightly around her neck, 'they are far too grand for me.'

'Nonsense,' Katie said, smiling at her, 'they are beautiful just like you.' Katie turned around to retrieve something else from the box as Octavia continued to touch the perfect stones. 'There are earrings and a bracelet to match,' she said as she picked up one of the diamond drop earrings and held them towards Octavia.

Octavia, who had by now given up arguing with her friend, took hold of the earrings and fastened them to the lobes of each ear. Once they were in place, Katie faced her and carefully rearranged the tendrils of her ringleted hair that framed her face. 'Monsieur Alphonse did a marvellous job styling your hair,' Katie said admiringly.

'I must admit,' Octavia said mischievously, 'that I did find it difficult to keep still as he was cutting my hair. His French accent was quite atrocious, and it kept slipping.'

'I know,' Katie replied as the light of laughter danced once more in her eyes, I was almost in whoops of laughter. Everyone knows that he was born within the sound of Bow Bells, but he is such a genius with hair that we all forgive his affectations. I particularly like the Grecian style. It suits you very well, and the gold tiara he wove into the style looks stunning. Now,' she said as she glanced over at the clock, 'the Duke's carriage will be here for you any minute, and I have to go to Aunt Mariah's house for dinner.'

With that proclamation, she handed Octavia an ivory fan and her reticule. 'Tillie,' she ordered Octavia's maid who had been busying herself in the adjoining room. 'Please, will you fetch her ladyship's cloak.'

The journey from Sommerville House, in the plush ducal carriage, only took a few minutes. However, to Octavia, those precious minutes, where she had planned to gather her thoughts together before the evening began, flashed by far too quickly. Once the carriage had come to a standstill, a smart liveried footman immediately opened the carriage door. Octavia felt like her stomach was performing somersaults. During the day, she had felt so nervous she had barely touched any food just in case the slightly nauseous feeling in the pit of her stomach, became worse.

This was to be her first society function, and she was extremely anxious about the evening's event. She did not know whether or not London society would forgive her her part in the scandal that surrounded her marriage to Lord Kendall. Even though more than twelve years had passed since her marriage, and she had had no choice in the matter, she knew that not everybody would forgive such a disgrace. Katie, like the good friend she was, had tried many times to put her mind at ease, but how could Katie fully understand the shame and humiliation that continually followed her. Tonight, when she was going to be tested for the first time, she felt fearful about what their reaction would be to her.

She took a deep breath to steady her nerves, as the footman set the steps in place and reached into the carriage to take her by the hand. She delicately placed her hand on his and stepped gingerly onto the pavement, careful not to get her silk slippers caught in the soft silk folds of her skirts and the light wool of her dark cloak.

Once she had safely alighted from the carriage, she looked up at the imposing façade of Holloway House. She had seen it many times during the day, and she knew how dramatic it looked in the daylight. However, at night, when all the lanterns outside the front entrance were lit, it looked spectacular.

She took another deep breath, clung tightly to her reticule for comfort and then began to climb the marble stairs towards the highly polished black front door. As soon as she had ascended the steps, the front door slowly opened, and the butler, who she recognised from her previous visits, bowed as she entered the hall. Once she was inside, she unbuttoned her cloak, and a maid, who seemed to Octavia to have come out of nowhere, removed her cloak.

'You are here,' she heard a familiar voice ring out from the top of the stairs, once the maid had disappeared with her cloak. 'I am so glad to see a friendly face,' Flora said as she descended the staircase towards Octavia.

Octavia always remembered Flora as a rather tall and ungainly girl, who was forever getting into trouble at school for breaking things. Her parents had died when she was very young and had left her with no inheritance. She had been sent to school because no one else in her family had wanted to take responsibility for her. Her school dresses were always well worn and fitted her poorly. However, the memory of her friend was nothing like the vision that gracefully walked down the staircase that evening. Flora was still tall, much taller than most men Octavia knew, and her figure, though she was not slender, suited her stature. Her mousy-coloured hair had been cut in the latest fashion. The short rather severe style of the à la Titus accentuated her high cheekbones and the angular shape of her jawline. You would have never described Flora as a beauty, for that would have been a far too insipid word to use, she was stunning.

'You look lovely,' Flora said as she reached the bottom of the stairs and took hold of Octavia's hands. 'I cannot decide whether your gown is gold or orange, for I do declare that it is both.'

Octavia looked up into her friend's eyes and immediately felt a little more at ease. 'And, the green of your dress is the exact same shade of green as your eyes,' she said to her friend with a smile.

'My modiste suggested the colour. I am delighted that she did, for I do not know what I would have chosen for myself. I probably would, given half a chance, be wearing the same brown dowdy wool dress I wore when I was Sophia's governess. I used to look very plain in that, and I blended seamlessly into the furniture. However, neither Gilly or my mother-in-law will let me wear brown again,' Flora said with laughter in her voice. She then let go of Octavia's hands and smoothed the silk skirts of her gown. 'I feel a bit of a fraud,' she said, all traces of humour had now left her voice, 'I do not belong here.'

Octavia now realised that however apprehensive she was about tonight; Flora also had a good reason to be just as anxious. 'I know exactly how you feel,' she said sympathetically.

'Come,' Flora said emphatically after a moment of thoughtful silence, 'we must not lose our courage. We will battle our way through the evening and come out the other side unscathed and well on the way to becoming a pair of society matrons.'

Octavia smiled and took Flora's arm, and they began to purposefully march up the magnificent staircase, with their heads held high. When they had reached the top of the stairs, Octavia's stomach fluttered as she heard the sound of conversation, punctuated with laughter, coming through the closed door of the drawing-room. She was aware of Flora taking in a deep breath. 'Here we go, like Daniel into the lions' den,' she said as she looked down at Octavia.

Octavia was not at all sure whether she liked the analogy Flora had chosen to use, and it did little to make her feel any more comfortable with what she was about to do. They walked resolutely in step across the gallery until they had reached the double door of the drawing-room. Two liveried footmen opened the door, and as the two ladies walked into the drawing-room with their heads held high, there was a hushed silence as all the guests turned to see who had entered the room.
Chapter 18

Alex had not reneged on the promise he had made to himself early on that winter's morning in the Dower House at Northleigh. He had been true to his word, and he had not touched a drop of alcohol during the past eighteen months. It had not been easy, and he had found the cravings for spirits especially powerful during the first few months after he had left Northleigh. He had begun again to have intense night terrors of that fateful day in Tarragona. However, as much as he tried, he could not alter the ending to these nightmares, and his friend, John Adams, would always die. When he awoke from them, his mind was disturbed, and his body was covered in perspiration, and he had to remind himself that they were only dreams. But they had always felt so real, as though he had been transported back in time to the horror of the prison cell. In the past, he had alleviated his guilt by drinking to excess. However, this was no longer an option. If he was to master his guilt, he was going to have to do it without the aid of a prop that hitherto had proved to be unreliable.

After leaving Northleigh, he had decided not to return to London and instead had travelled to the relative safety of his family's principal seat in Devon, Belmont Hall. It would have been foolhardy to return to the capital, with all the temptations that it had to offer. And, he knew that it would not be long before he would forget his resolve and slip back into his life of vice. It had been the beginning of December when he had arrived at the place where he grew up and called home. His brother and mother had also arrived a few days before him to take up residence in time for the famously lavish winter celebrations, that were held every year at Belmont Hall. Even though they had been surprised by his sudden appearance, they had respected his privacy. They had not asked him any awkward questions regarding the abrupt termination of his teaching post.

During that year's winter celebrations, he had lived in his old home, surrounded by his closest family. He had begun, without the aid of liquor, to pick up the pieces of the old life he had left behind when he had gone to Spain. It felt good to be back in the familiar surroundings of the place where he grew up.

He accompanied his brother on estate business and, for the first time in years, had enjoyed spending time in his company. Alex had forgotten just how much he had missed talking to him about the estate. Before he had gone to Spain, to fight the French, he had had a close relationship with his brother. They used to tell each other all their minor misdemeanours, and on several occasions, had helped each other out of sticky situations. After years of being estranged and cultivating a deep-rooted distrust of each other, they were finally beginning to restore their relationship.

One evening, shortly after the new year celebrations at Belmont Hall, just after all their houseguests had left, the two brothers had withdrawn to the library. It was late, and the soporific effects of the fire had relaxed Alex's mind and body. He remembered the last conversation he had had with Octavia, and he could still hear her words ringing in his head. "You must go and tell your family everything that has happened to you," she had said to him on that last night at Northleigh. "It will not erase the past, that, unfortunately, is set in stone, but we can use it to mould our future and do something good with our lives." Her words had rung in his head like a church bell on a Sunday morning.

This was the perfect opportunity for him to confide in his brother and tell him everything that had happened to him. Ralph had a right to know why his younger brother had behaved in such a boorish manner. He also needed to understand why he had rejected his brother's help in the past. Maybe, after the truth had been exposed, Ralph would cut him off and ask him to leave Belmont Hall. But Alex knew that the truth was worth more than his own personal comfort. If his brother asked him to leave, then he would go without any argument.

After Alex had told his brother the gruesome details regarding that fateful night at Tarragona, and his subsequent descent into a life of immorality; a strange, eerie silence filled the library. Ralph stood up and walked towards the fireplace and leant against the ornate marble mantlepiece. 'You should have told me about this years ago,' he said sadly. 'No one should have to live with that guilt.'

'I was too ashamed,' Alex said quietly, 'if I had waited just a few more minutes...' His voice trailed away into nothing. It was that thought that had caused him to start drinking in the first place, and he had to fight the urge to succumb to that unwelcome but beguiling voice, that told him relief was only a glass or two away.

'No,' his brother said firmly, 'do not think those thoughts. He would have done the same for you.'

'Yes,' Alex whispered, 'I believe he would. However, that thought does nothing to ease my conscience.'

'You would be a hard man if it did,' Ralph replied as he walked over to him and touched his shoulder. He then went back to the chair opposite him and sat back down. Several minutes of silence elapsed until Ralph finally spoke once more. 'You should talk to Adam's brother, the Duke of Tyne. I know him well. He should be told the truth about his brother's death.'

'Yes,' Alex said grimly, 'I should have confronted him years ago, but I was far too much of a coward.'

'Don't say that,' Ralph replied gently, 'you should be a little more forgiving towards yourself. If I know Tyne, he will be grateful to you.'

Alex sighed and looked down at his hands that were tightly clasping the arms of the chair. 'It is more difficult to forgive yourself than it is to forgive others,' he said bleakly. 'You have to live with the consequences of what you have done, and sometimes your conscience makes that difficult.'

'Why did you leave Northleigh?' his brother said, looking at him with concern. 'I thought that you enjoyed teaching the young Lord Kendall.'

'I did,' Alex replied, 'but you have heard the saying, "be sure your sin will find you out." My many sins finally found me in Yorkshire,' he said with a wry smile on his face. 'Sir Freddie Sommerville, Kendall's guardian, found out about my activities with Ellington and gave me my marching orders. I can hardly blame him for asking me to leave. A young impressional boy should not be taught by someone with a past as black as mine.'

Ralph nodded his head and sighed. 'I told Mama at the time that it was not a good idea, but you know what she is like when she gets a notion into her head.'

Alex smiled and nodded.

'Well,' Ralph said emphatically after a short silence, 'all that is now in the past. Come with me to London for the season and keep me company at Fallbrook House. Our dear mother has still not given up on me, and she is desperately trying to find me a bride before the year is out. You could help me fend off her meddlesome matchmaking notions.'

Alex laughed at the prospect of his brother having a battle of wills with the formidable Lady Huntington. 'I will think about it,' he said.

After the winter holidays, Alex decided to accept his brother's invitation to stay at Fallbrook House for the season. He needed to go and sort out the mess he had left behind when he had left London in October. There were far too many loose ends, and he knew that if he did not go to put right all the wrongs he had done, he would soon return to numbing his mind with alcohol.

When Alex arrived in London, in the middle of January just before the parliamentary session had begun, many members of the _ton_ had yet to arrive in the city after spending the winter months in their country residences. However, he did know that the Duke of Tyne took his parliamentary duties seriously and could always be found in London when the House was in session. Alex had decided that the lack of society would be the perfect opportunity for him to visit his grace at his residence in Mayfair, Holloway House.

After he had been in London only a few days, Alex called upon Tyne. When Alex was ushered into the study, he had found his grace standing next to his expansive desk. Alex remembered his friend, describing his brother as a formidable character, who did not suffer fools gladly. He had also described him as a good judge of character, with an uncanny way of ferreting out the truth from the most reluctant sources. As Tyne stood and looked at him, his dark eyes as hard as granite, Alex knew that this encounter would not be easy.

After refusing a glass of cognac, Alex began to tell him about the events that had led to his brother's tragic death at Tarragona. Alex, respectful of Adams' memory, had told him the truth of what had happened. He had not added any embellishments, neither had he made any excuses for his conduct on that day. Once he had finished telling him about his brother's death, he had gone on to tell him about his own subsequent fall from grace and his association with Major Ellington.

As he spoke, his grace said very little. He just sat opposite Alex, silently watching him through his half-closed eyes that were as hard as steel. Alex, who was usually good at assessing a person's reaction, had no idea what his grace thought. However, that did not matter. Alex had known for some time, that he did not deserve forgiveness, and he was not even going to ask for it. And when he eventually left Holloway House, an hour after he first arrived, he was relieved that he had told him the truth and was regretful that he had not had the bravery to confess to it years ago.

It was not until a week after he had had the initial meeting with the Duke of Tyne that he was invited back to Holloway House. And when he returned, it was with a sense of trepidation.

'Fallbrook,' Tyne said after Alex was shown into his study, 'thank you for coming to see me today. Please sit down.'

Alex sat down on one of the comfortable chairs near the fireplace.

After a protracted silence, Tyne finally spoke. 'Fallbrook,' he said decisively, 'it took courage coming here last week. It must have been difficult for you to come to my house and tell me what happened to John at Tarragona.'

'I should have told you years ago,' Alex replied, not daring to look at Tyne.

'Perhaps,' Tyne said, 'but, there again, perhaps not. I find that it is too easy to be critical of decisions one has made in the past with the knowledge of hindsight.'

Alex looked at him, cautiously and nodded. 'But, the knowledge of hindsight should not be an excuse for making poor decisions that make other people's lives miserable.'

'No,' Tyne said in agreement, 'it is difficult. We have all, at some time or other, have had to live with the choices we have made. The past is set in stone and cannot be altered. All we can do is learn to live with our decisions and make our peace with the world.'

'Yes,' Alex replied, 'but that is difficult.'

'I must apologise for my silence last week,' Tyne said, changing the subject, 'I did not intend to be rude, I just needed to spend a little time alone to digest everything you told me.'

Alex sighed. 'Please, your grace,' he said, 'I did not come here looking for an apology. I just wanted you to know the truth about your brother. I was wrong to hide it from you for all those years.'

'No,' Tyne replied vehemently, 'I do.' He then paused and looked at Alex intently. 'I have asked you back because I never had the chance to thank you properly for what you did for John.'

'I did nothing,' Alex said bitterly, 'save, take his life.'

'Don't be too harsh on yourself,' Tyne said quietly, 'you did what you thought was right at the time. When he had thought all hope had gone, my brother asked you to take his life. Not many men, of my acquaintance, would have had the courage to do what you did.'

The silence stretched out between them, and Alex did not dare to speak just in case he lost control of his emotions. He could already feel the pain of suppressed tears in the corners of his eyes.

'I would like to help you,' Tyne finally said. Alex could hear the strain in his voice and knew that the man, who was famous for never showing any outward signs of emotion, was finding it difficult to control his own. 'When you were here the other day,' he continued, 'you refused an offer of my finest cognac.'

Alex nodded. 'Yes,' he replied, 'I have not drunk any alcohol for nearly two months.'

'Why did you stop drinking?' Tyne asked curiously.

'Not long after the events at Tarragona,' he said flatly. 'I started to have nightmares about what I had done to John. I began to drink to dull my sense of guilt. It helped, at first, but not for long. I soon discovered that I had to drink more and more to dull the incessant feelings of remorse I continually felt. The problem was that the alcohol dulled my sense of decency and my ability to judge right from wrong. It was not until I was about to hurt someone I loved that I realised I had to stop.'

Alex looked down at his hands that were resting in his lap and remembered the last conversation he had had with Octavia. She had told him that even if she could, she would never change her past. 'A dear friend once told me that it is impossible to alter the past, but it is not impossible to change the future.'

'I stopped drinking,' Alex said after a short silence, 'because I realised that I had to come to terms with what I had done, not forget it. If I erased those memories, I would also have to forget John and our close friendship. I now know, that to reconcile myself to what happened, I must make amends for my actions on that fateful day, and I cannot do that when my senses have been dulled by alcohol.'

Tyne nodded. 'You have made a wise choice,' he said with a wry smile, the strain in his voice now gone. 'I understand the need to reconcile oneself to one's past. I have spent the last couple of years trying to make peace with my daughter after the death of my wife.'

Again, there was another silence. 'I require a secretary,' Tyne finally said, 'my man has been offered a job abroad, and I cannot compete with the prestige of the position he has been offered. He is leaving in a month, and I need a replacement. Would you be interested?'

Alex looked at him in disbelief. 'Me? he said with incredulity, 'I have never been a secretary. Do you think that I am qualified for such a position?'

'Of course,' he said, 'your brother, Huntingdon, told me that you are an intelligent man, with a sense of decency. You have a first from Oxford and have worked as a reconnaissance officer. You are more than qualified for the job.'

'I...' Alex was lost for words, as a lump developed in the back of his throat. He was being offered a chance to start his life again, from the very man who should be condemning him.

Tyne, sensing his surprise, looked over at him and said, 'you do not have to give me your answer now. Think about it for a few days and tell me your decision by the end of the week.'

It had not taken Alex long to come to a decision regarding the Duke of Tyne's generous offer, and before the week was out, Alex had moved to Holloway House and had begun his new life as Tyne's secretary.
Chapter 19

Alex had been standing in the drawing-room of Holloway House, waiting for her to walk through the door. Since he had talked to her in the library at Northleigh, eighteen months ago, he had thought about her every day. She was the reason why he was here, doing something worthwhile with his life, and putting to rights the wrongs he had perpetrated while he had been under the influence of alcohol.

When he had been told by the new duchess, that her good friend from school, Lady Kendall, was to be invited, he could hardly believe that he would finally see her again. The Dowager Duchess, Tyne's formidable mother, had not been impressed with the late addition to the guest list. She had wanted what she called "an informal dinner with her dearest friends," to be a way of introducing her daughter-in-law into society. The late inclusion of a young woman, who she had never met, and was also the subject of unsavoury gossip regarding her marriage to the notorious Lord Kendall, was not her idea of a respectable dinner guest.

However, the new duchess, who also had a will of iron, was not easily intimidated by her redoubtable mother-in-law. Tyne, when he had been drawn into the disagreement by his mother, had told her that Lady Kendall was quite respectable. He had also said to her that his wife, who was now the new mistress of Holloway House, could invite anyone she wanted to dine. It was with the greatest reluctance that the disgruntled dowager duchess, who was not used to having her own will overruled by members of her family, had instructed Alex to include Lady Kendall on the guest list.

Alex had been standing by one of the windows, located at the front of the house. He was talking to an old acquaintance, Lord Tonbridge. Alex had never like Tonbridge. However, he was Tyne's second cousin and a guest in his employer's house. He was a member of the dandy set, and consequently, his dress and deportment were far too extravagant for the occasion. Alex paid little attention to what he said, he just nodded and smiled politely as he was given a detailed description of a new horse that Tonbridge had just purchased at Tattersalls. Tonbridge, still in the middle of his lengthy monologue, stopped abruptly when the door of the drawing-room opened. He looked with admiration as two ladies walked confidently into the room.

'Oh, I say,' he said in appreciation as he lifted a quizzing glass to his right eye to observe more closely the two women who had entered the room.

Alex was dumbstruck, as a hush descended on the room as everyone looked appraisingly at them. Even though he had had a few days to prepare himself for her arrival, it had all been for nothing. His heart had quickened when he had seen her walk through the door. She looked beautiful in a deep orange dress, the colour of a summer evening's sunset, that glistened with gold as it caught the light from the many candles scattered around the room. Her shining brunette hair was coiled artfully around the crown of her head in a classical style that made her look like a Greek goddess.

Lord Tonbridge, his new horse now forgotten, looked over at the two women standing by the door. 'They are a pair of beauties,' he said as he leaned over to Alex. 'I know the tall one is the duchess,' he said to Alex in an exaggerated whisper, 'but I have never seen the other one. She's rather a pretty little thing. I wonder who she is?'

Alex clenched his jaw in anger. During the last season, he had attended some respectable society functions with his brother and mother and had tried to repair the damage he had done to his character. He had not been to any of the disreputable establishments he had frequented in the past. However, he was finding it far more difficult to rid himself of the rackety reputation that he had developed over the years in Ellington's company. Unfortunately, Tonbridge was no exception. He had been one of Ellington's regular customers. Alex, in his capacity as Ellington's right-hand man, had known him well. 'Oh, I say!' he whispered loudly to Alex, 'I do believe she is the lovely Lady Kendall. I was told that she was tolerable to look at, but I must say my sources did her no justice at all. She is a tasty little morsel and a widow to boot.'

Alex was itching to give Tonbridge a black eye and maybe even a broken nose. But, causing a scene in the drawing-room in his employer's residence, on a special night that they had been planning for weeks, would only cause more problems than it solved.

The Dowager Duchess quickly bore of her daughter-in-law to be introduced to her friends, leaving Octavia standing alone. Alex was about to excuse himself from Tonbridge's disagreeable company when he saw that Tyne was talking to her. Tyne said something to her that caused her to look sharply in his direction. When their eyes met, he noticed that her cheeks flushed, and a smile touched the corners of her mouth. Tyne then motioned for Alex to join them.

'I do believe you already know my secretary, Captain Fallbrook,' Tyne said, mischief evident in his voice. During the past year, Alex had not told Tyne about his time at Northleigh tutoring the young Lord Kendall. However, Alex was not surprised that he had known. The Duke of Tyne had an uncanny habit of knowing everything.

'Yes, your grace,' Octavia said, looking up at him, a flush deepening on her cheeks.

'Good,' Tyne said decisively as he looked at Octavia. 'Fallbrook, when the bell signals for dinner, please would you escort Lady Kendall to the dining-room.'

'Of course, your grace,' he said, still looking at Octavia.

'I will leave you in Fallbrook's capable hands,' Tyne said before he disappeared to mingle with his other guests.

They stood in silence for a few moments. Alex dared not to speak just in case this was all a dream, and the sound of his voice would wake him up. 'Captain Fallbrook,' she eventually said, 'it is good to see you again. I did not know you were Tyne's secretary.'

'I have worked for his grace, since the beginning of last year,' he said, still not quite believing that she was standing in front of him. 'I came to visit him because of what you said to me,' he said, looking at her directly.

'Me?' she questioned, looking up at him and meeting his gaze, a questioning look in her eyes.

'You told me that I must be reconciled to my past. Tyne was John Adam's younger brother. After I told him the truth, he offered me a job as his secretary.'

'You look well,' she said, smiling at him, 'working for his grace must suit you.'

'Yes, I think it does,' he said. To own the truth, he had not really thought about whether he enjoyed his job, but it was beginning to dawn on him that over the past year he had begun to derive a sense of worth that had been devoid of his life since Tarragona. It had crept up on him so unexpectedly, that if he had not met her this evening, and had not had this conversation, he may have missed it altogether.

There was another short silence as he continued to look at her. He could feel the same warmth in his heart as his eyes roamed over the familiar features of her face. Even though a year and a half had passed since he had last seen her; he still loved her. However, he did not know if he should act upon those feelings that were drawing his soul to hers. He had started to piece together the scattered fragments of his life, but he was still far from the man he had been.

'I see that you have taken my advice. Have you come to London for the season?' he said, smiling at her.

'Yes, I did,' she said, 'I needed to come here and establish myself in society before Olivia gets any older. I'm staying with Freddie and Katie at Sommerville House.'

'Did Sir Freddie tell you why I left so suddenly?' he said as his smile slowly vanished from his lips.

'Yes,' she said earnestly, 'but why did you go before speaking to me? I knew what he said was true. You had always been honest with me, and I thought we had come to an understanding.'

'I had to go,' he said, 'Sir Freddie was right, I had no business teaching an innocent young boy.'

'I never did get the chance to thank you for everything you did,' she said, smiling up at him. 'Under your tutelage, Charles transformed into a young man. A young man I am very proud of.'

'How is the young scamp?' Alex said affectionately. 'Is he at Eton?'

'Charles is indeed at Eton. And, from the brief letters I receive, he seems to be enjoying himself immensely,' she said proudly.

'I did not do anything,' he said, 'Charles is a good lad and would have succeeded despite my intervention.'

As he finished talking, the gong, heralding the start of dinner, rang out clearly across the room. In response to the summons, everyone lined up in an orderly manner. 'Come,' he said, as he offered her his arm, 'let me escort you to the dining-room.'

'We may not have an opportunity to talk later,' he said as they walked across the drawing-room arm in arm. 'May I call upon you and take you for a drive in the park tomorrow afternoon?'

He had so many questions still unanswered, and it had been a spur of the moment decision to invite her to the park. He could see the tenderness in her eyes as she looked at him and it melted his heart. He knew that she had cared deeply for him and he remembered that in the library at Northleigh, she had even said that she loved him. Perhaps, she had been absorbed in the emotion of the moment and had not meant those words. But, something deep within him, like a spark of hope, wanted to find out if there was indeed any future for them.

Octavia looked up at him and smiled. 'Yes,' she said, 'I would like that very much.'

On the short journey to Holloway House, inside the Duke of Tyne's ornate carriage, Octavia felt like she had a whole host of butterflies fluttering around inside her. This feeling had not subsided when she had arrived at the duke's grand Mayfair residence and had seen Flora descending the stairs towards her. After she stepped through the double doors of the drawing-room, with Flora's less than comforting words still ringing in her ears, she did indeed feel like she was entering the lions' den.

Octavia had soon become aware of the hush that had quickly settled upon the occupants of the room, and she was also aware of every head-turning gracefully towards them. She knew that the guests were not primarily interested in her. Everyone in the drawing-room of Holloway House that evening had been invited with one purpose, to be introduced to the new Duchess of Tyne. It was Flora, not her, that was going to be appraised that evening.

They had not been in the room long before the dowager duchess came to claim her new daughter-in-law, leaving Octavia standing alone by the entrance. She observed Flora looking around at her with an apologetic look in her eyes as she was swept away.

Octavia had not been left standing alone for long and was soon joined by the Duke of Tyne. 'Good evening,' he said after he executed an elegant bow, 'may I welcome you to Holloway House. I must thank you for coming at such short notice. I know that your presence here tonight is a comfort to Flora.'

Octavia curtsied and smiled nervously at him. 'Thank you,' she replied in almost a murmur, 'it is an honour to be invited.'

'I do believe that you are acquainted with at least one of our guests,' the duke said politely.

When she looked up, she immediately saw him, standing by the window at the other end of the room. Time seemed to stand still as he walked towards her, and her heart began to drum a rhythmic tattoo against her chest. As she examined him walking towards her, he seemed different from the picture she carried around with her in her mind's eye. He appeared to be taller and broader than she remembered, and, if it were possible, even more handsome. He was dressed entirely in black evening dress, except for the snowy white linen of his shirt and cravat. His hair that she always remembered being dishevelled had been elegantly styled.

Over the past year and a half, since she had last seen him, she had dreamt about this moment. As she watched him continue to walk towards her, it felt very much as though she was still in a dream. There was a dreamlike quality about the evening that made her feel lightheaded and a little detached from herself. She felt that at any moment, she would wake up in her bed at Northleigh, and would discover that this was all an illusion. However, when he reached her side, her heart quickened, and she felt that frisson of awareness that only his presence could evoke. And she soon realised that this was no hallucination. Alex, her dear Alex, was standing next to her.

It was not until she was alone in bed that night, that she was able to assimilate everything that had happened to her that evening. She only remembered snatches of their brief conversation that had been over before it had even begun. There were still far too many unanswered questions. She wanted to explore those emotions that he had stirred up in her again tonight. It had been a relief when he asked if he could take her driving in the park the next day. She was not sure what she was going to tell Freddie or how he would react to meeting Alex again. She did know that he was still furious with Alex and would not let her mention his name in her presence. However, she was not going to let his opinion affect her decision. Freddie was Charles' guardian, not hers. With those thoughts running through her mind, she eventually drifted off to sleep.
Chapter 20

The next morning, Octavia had awoken to feel happy and content. Tillie, her maid, had opened the curtains of her bedchamber, and the clear, bright morning sunlight, flooded into the room.

'Good morning, my lady,' Tillie said as she bustled around the room like she usually did every morning. 'I have left you a cup of chocolate on the side table next to your bed.'

'Thank you, Tillie,' Octavia replied as she stretched over to pick up the cup, 'I will ring for you when I am ready to get up.'

'Very good, my lady,' Tillie replied in a strained manner. Octavia knew that she was not used to being dismissed at this time of day. However, Octavia wanted to be alone with her thoughts, and she knew that would be impossible with Tillie hovering over her.

She smiled to herself, as she sipped the warm chocolate, at the thought of seeing him again. She remembered those precious memories of their encounters at Northleigh that she had stored away at the back of her mind. And, as she closed her eyes and rested her head back on the pillow, she imagined what it would be like to be in his arms once more.

She had just finished her chocolate when there was a knock on the door of her bedchamber. 'Come in,' she said as she arranged her pillow so that she could sit up a little higher in bed. It was not unusual for Olivia to come and visit her in the morning, and she had fully expected her daughter to burst through the doors of the bedchamber. However, it was not Olivia's voice that answered her command.

'Can I come in?' She heard Katie say as she poked her head around the door. 'I haven't woken you up, have I?'

'Oh, no,' Octavia replied, 'please come in.' Octavia looked over at her friend, who had entered the room and was carefully closing the door behind her. 'I could not send you away, Katie. Come, sit next to me.'

Katie, who was wearing a richly decorated dressing gown over her nightgown, settled herself down next to Octavia on the comfortable bed. 'Well,' Katie said as she shuffled herself next to Octavia, 'how was it? Was Flora a success?'

'Of course, she was,' Octavia replied, smiling at her friend, 'she charmed everyone, including those dragons her mother-in-law invited.

'Tell me all about it,' Katie said excitedly, 'I want to know everything.'

Octavia proceeded to tell her friend every interesting detail of the previous evening. She told her about how lovely Flora had looked and how she had won the hearts of her guests. After she told her about the sumptuous food that had been served at dinner, she then gave her a detailed description of the dining-room and its décor. She had listed all the names of the guests that evening and had recalled amusing tidbits of the conversations she had had with them. However, she omitted to tell Katie about one of the guests until the very end.

'Captain Fallbrook was a guest,' Octavia said nonchalantly, unsure of the reaction his name would evoke. She had made up her mind last night that there was no point trying to hide from Freddie or Katie that she had seen him again. They would be bound to find out at some time or another about his existence. He was, after all, the Duke of Tyne's secretary and they would no doubt meet him at Holloway House over the next few weeks. And, he was coming here this afternoon to take her driving in the park.

'Captain Fallbrook,' Katie said, looking at Octavia with big round eyes. 'What was he doing at Holloway House?'

Despite their close friendship, Octavia had never discussed with Katie the sudden dismissal of Alex from her household. At the time, Katie had been far too ill, and it would have been selfish for her to have burdened Katie with all the sadness she had experienced when he had left. Her sorrow had paled into insignificance compared to Katie's loss. And when Katie had finally begun to come to terms with her grief, Octavia had learnt to control her own feelings.

'He is the Duke of Tyne's secretary,' Octavia had said, keeping her voice even in tone.

'Oh dear,' Katie said, looking at her friend with a troubled smile. 'We never did talk about Captain Fallbrook when he left. I am afraid I was not much use as a friend when you needed one most.'

'Nonsense,' Octavia replied firmly, 'you have always been the best of friends.'

'Yes, but...' Katie was still looking at Octavia with a troubled expression on her face.

Octavia took Katie's hand and squeezed it reassuringly. 'I assume that Freddie told you why Alex left?'

Katie nodded. 'Yes, he told me that he had a shocking reputation.'

'I am sure that everything Freddie told you was true,' Octavia said, looking at her friend. 'But, when Freddie came to tell me that he had dismissed Captain Fallbrook, I already knew about his past. I know that Freddie had our best interests at heart, but I was very unhappy with him at the time. Alex, Captain Fallbrook, had always been very honest with me.'

'You knew,' Katie said in surprise, 'and you were still happy to let him teach Charles.'

'Yes,' Octavia said, 'I know that I sound a little naïve, but he had changed. He was learning to live with the horrible things he had done. I do not want to make excuses for what he did, they were wrong, and many people were hurt by his behaviour. But doesn't everyone merit a second chance? A chance to right the wrongs of the past?'

'Oh Octavia,' Katie said, 'are you certain he has changed? He is a very handsome and charming man and believe me when I say that they can be the most dangerous of all. They can twist words around and make you believe that black is white, and that white is black. I have found, from bitter experience, that the word from a man, is like the morning mist. It can disappear in the cold light of day and you are left with nothing, but a string of broken promises. Please do not make the same mistakes as I did.'

Octavia squeezed Katie's hand. She knew what had happened to Katie during that first calamitous season when she had been at the mercy of an unprincipled woman who had been her chaperone. 'Oh, Katie,' she said compassionately, 'please do not distress yourself.' Since the death of her baby last year, Katie had become more serious and had lost some of the playful side of her nature. Octavia also suspected that there was something else bothering her friend.

Katie sighed and looked at Octavia with troubled eyes. 'How can you tell that he has changed? You cannot just go by his word alone.'

Octavia sighed and nodded. 'Yes,' she said quietly, 'I know.' She knew that Katie was advising caution because she had been hurt and betrayed by those she trusted and should have had her best interests at heart. She had also known that the grief she had experienced, due to the death of her son, had brought those experiences to the surface.

'I was foolish,' Katie said with her head down, 'to advise you to flirt with Captain Fallbrook. Octavia, I was so happy then, and, I wanted you to feel a little of the joy I felt. But, after Henry died...'

Henry was the name Katie had given to her second son. The son that had died before he had had the chance to take his first breath. Octavia said nothing. She just put her arm around Katie's shoulder and felt her friend relax against her as she began to cry softly. There were no words of comfort that could alleviate the pain and hurt of the loss of a child.

'I know I should be happy,' Katie said between sobs, 'I have little William, and I love him dearly. But, I cannot stop thinking about Henry. Freddie will not talk to me about it,' she said sadly, 'he says I am being foolish and irrational, and perhaps I am.'

'Don't say that,' Octavia said in a hushed voice, 'you are not foolish, you are still grieving. There is nothing wrong with mourning your loss and thinking about Henry. But in your sorrow, do not push away those who love you.'

'You mean Freddie, don't you,' Katie said as she turned her tear-stained face towards Octavia.

Octavia nodded. 'Yes, I do,' she said, smiling at her friend. 'I was there when Henry died,' Octavia said softly. 'Freddie was devastated,' she said, 'he argued with the rector when he was told that little Henry would not be buried in the family vault. He did not attend Sunday service for several weeks afterwards. He even buried Henry himself, in the hollow by the wilderness. The place that is covered in bluebells in May.'

'Why did he not tell me?' Katie said sadly.

'I suppose, he did not want to burden you with his own grief,' Octavia said.

'Foolish man,' Katie said quietly, 'I thought that he did not care.'

'He does care,' Octavia said, 'he has just kept it all inside, hidden away from you.'

There was silence for a few minutes as Katie's crying subsided. 'I don't know what to do,' she said in a whisper, 'I think that our relationship is beyond repair.'

'Do you still love him?' Octavia said seriously.

'Yes,' Katie replied immediately, 'yes, I do. But I don't know if he still loves me. We have slept in separate rooms since I gave birth.' She stopped and smiled weakly. 'At first, he said it was because he wanted me to recover physically from the ordeal of childbirth. But then, as I regained my strength, we started to argue and...' Katie stopped and sighed. 'I miss him,' she said sadly, 'I really do.'

Katie stopped to blow her nose in her handkerchief. 'We had a terrible argument just before he went to London last season. I said some hateful, unforgivable things to him. I was so angry. I thought he didn't care.'

'What am I going to do with the pair of you?' Octavia said lightly, 'you are both as foolish as each other.'

Katie nodded and smiled. 'I suppose we are,' she said, sitting up and giving her nose another good blow on her handkerchief. 'It has been so long, and I do not know what to do.' She stopped and looked down at the handkerchief she was twisting in her hands. 'I think Freddie had an affair last season.'

'Freddie,' Octavia said, looking astonished. Freddie would have been the last person she would have expected to be unfaithful to his wife. 'Are you sure?'

'Mrs Harris, at one of the Harrogate assemblies we both attended in the summer, told me that she had heard, from a reliable source that Freddie was Lady Hamelin's latest conquest.'

'I would not put too much faith into what that woman says,' Octavia said dismissively, 'she is always trying to stir up trouble with her gossip.'

'If it was only Mrs Harris's gossip, I would not have believed it, but other things have made me suspicious,' Katie said sorrowfully. 'When Freddie returned home in the autumn, I found a receipt from a London jeweller, for a costly diamond necklace. The type of present that I imagine a man would give to his mistress as a parting gift. And, there were other things,' she said with a sigh. 'I found rouge on the collars of a couple of his shirts and his jackets smelled of an expensive Parisian perfume that I have never used.'

Octavia tightened her grip on Katie's shoulder. She had no idea that her friend had been hiding this away from everyone. 'He was only meant to be going to London for a couple of weeks,' Katie said sadly, 'and he stayed away nearly five months. I did not tell you this at the time, but I know he went to Brighton after the season finished, probably with her.'

'He came back to Evesham,' Octavia said soothingly, not knowing how to comfort her friend.

'Only to take Charles to Eton,' Katie said despondently. 'I don't know if he loves me anymore,' she added in a sob

'But you still love him, don't you?' Octavia said gravely.

Katie remained silent for a few minutes, and Octavia guessed that she was searching for her heart for the answer. She looked up at Octavia, her eyes glossy with tears. 'Yes,' she said, with conviction, 'I do. Before Henry died, we were so much more than just husband and wife, we were best friends. I spoilt our relationship when we had that terrible argument. I called him all kinds of spiteful names and told him that I never wanted to see him again. I hit him and gave him a black eye. That is why he ultimately left; he wasn't planning on going to London at all. He was going to spend the summer with me at Evesham. It is all my fault.'

'No, Katie,' Octavia said firmly, 'you must not blame yourself. You were not well, and Freddie should have been aware of how you were feeling. I know that does not excuse what you did, you must have hurt him very badly for him to leave like that. However, he should never have left you alone for so long.'

The two friends sat in silence as Octavia's arm rested on Katie's shoulder to comfort her. She thought about how events in one's life, and how one reacted to them, affected that person. She thought of Alex, and how the taking of the life of his friend had changed his destiny entirely. It had turned him from a kind and considerate man, into a libertine. She also thought about Freddie and Katie and how the grief for the loss of their child had virtually destroyed their relationship and had been the catalyst for Freddie betraying his wife's trust, by having an affair. But, she also remembered that Alex had turned his life around. She had seen last night that he had sought forgiveness from the people he had hurt and was slowly piecing his life back together. If Alex could change, then there must be hope for Freddie and Katie.

'Katie,' Octavia said gravely, 'we all change. The unforeseen situations that life throws our way, for better or worse, alter us. I am not the same person I was when I was a frightened fifteen-year-old girl who was taken away from the comfort of Hillcroft and married to a man old enough to be my grandfather. And, I am not the same reclusive woman I was when I first met Alex playing cricket on the lawn outside Northleigh. Last night, I did something I never would have dreamt I could have done. I attended a dinner party with some of the most fashionable members of the _beau monde_. And do you know what the most surprising thing was about the evening?'

Katie looked at Octavia and shook her head. 'I don't know,' she said curiously.

'I enjoyed myself,' Octavia said with pride. 'I was nervous at first, but after seeing how beautiful Flora was and how she was in command of her new environment, I soon took control of my nerves.'

'Yes,' Katie said, nodding her head, 'you have changed. You have also become very wise. And yes,' she said quickly before Octavia could reply, 'I do understand what you are trying to tell me. If we have both changed, then why can't someone like Fallbrook also change. I suppose no one is beyond redemption.'

Octavia nodded. 'Yes, Katie,' she said, smiling at her friend, 'no one is beyond redemption, not even Freddie.'

'But what can I do?' Katie said mournfully.

'I will talk to Freddie,' Octavia eventually said.

'I don't know if that will work,' Katie said hesitantly.

'Unfortunately, neither do I,' Octavia said truthfully, 'but I have to try.'

'I hope it works,' Katie replied, 'I miss him.'

'I know,' Octavia said, 'and I do believe he misses you.'

There was a silence in the room as Katie continued to rest her head against Octavia's shoulder. Then Katie turned around to look at her friend. 'Thank you,' Katie said earnestly, 'you have been a good friend to me over the years.'
Chapter 21

It was not until late morning when Octavia eventually knocked on the library door at Sommerville House. She had spent most of the morning in her room, waiting for Freddie's return. He usually breakfasted at White's when he was in town and this morning he had not deviated from his typical routine.

'Come in,' he commanded in response to her knock.

She turned the handle slowly and poked her head around the door. 'May I have a word with you?' she managed to say. She was so nervous that her mouth was dry, and she could feel her heart pounding in her chest.

'Of course,' he said as he stood up from the chair. 'Please come in and sit down. I do hope that there is nothing amiss with Charles.'

'Oh no,' she said as she walked across the room to sit in the chair opposite him, 'there is nothing wrong. I just wanted to talk to you.'

There was an uncomfortable silence in the room, and Octavia was not sure how she should broach the subject at the forefront of her mind. She sat, staring at the fire and twisting her hands nervously in her lap, searching her mind for the right words to say.

'I'm glad you came to see me,' he said, his voice cutting into the awkward silence, 'for there is something I wish to discuss with you. But, firstly, did you enjoy yourself at Tyne's last night?'

'Yes,' Octavia replied, 'I enjoyed myself immensely.'

'And, apart from the duke and duchess, was there anyone there you knew?' Octavia was unsettled by Freddie's question, but she tried not to let it show in her manner. She just stared at Freddie and said nothing.

'I am asking you because I heard a disturbing rumour this morning at White's,' he said as he sat forward and threaded his fingers together.

Octavia looked at him with a steady gaze. She had a suspicion she knew the subject of the rumour he had heard, and she did not want Freddie to be aware of how much this had taken her by surprise.

'I discovered, from a very reliable source, that the Duke of Tyne's secretary is no other than Captain Fallbrook,' he said, looking directly at her. Octavia guessed that he was gauging her reaction to the news. 'And he was there at the dinner party last night.'

In her room, earlier that morning when she had been waiting for him to return, she had not envisaged the conversation taking this path. There was no point denying it. Alex was coming to Sommerville House, later that afternoon, to pick her up, so it would only be a matter of time before he found out that she had met him. Anyway, why should she be ashamed of meeting Alex again? 'Yes,' she said as she nodded her head, 'he was there.'

'And, I also heard that you spoke with him at some length,' Freddie replied accusatively.

'Yes, I did speak to him,' Octavia said, now feeling defensive.

'I wish that you had not,' he said authoritatively.

Octavia looked at him incredulously. 'Without being exceptionally rude, how could I avoid contact with Captain Fallbrook? I could hardly give him the cut direct when I was a guest in the house of the man who employs him.'

'I knew that you were besotted with him,' he replied sharply. 'In your eyes, he could never do any wrong. I do not want you to see him again, and I certainly do not want Katie anywhere near him,' he commanded.

'Freddie,' Octavia said firmly, 'I do not wish to be rude. Over the years, you have been exceptionally kind to my family and me, but you are not my guardian, and you cannot tell me who I can see and cannot see. If I choose to spend time with Captain Fallbrook, that is my own affair.' She straightened her spine and looked at Freddie. She knew that she had to veer the conversation away from Alex. Now was not the time to tell him that she was going to spend part of the afternoon in Alex's company. 'And, as for Katie,' she said, looking at him directly, 'I need to talk to you about her. That is the reason why I came to see you.'

'What about Katie?' Freddie asked gruffly.

Octavia took a deep breath before she spoke so that she could gather her thoughts together. This was going to be an awkward conversation, and she needed to think of the right words for the occasion. She was, after all, a guest at Sommerville House, and she knew she could be overstepping the boundaries of her friendship. He had every right to tell her to mind her own business, just like she had done to him after his command to her not to see Alex again. 'Last year,' she said, looking at him intently. 'After the birth of William,' she continued cautiously, 'Katie was not well.' She took a deep breath and continued. 'She said things to you that she did not mean to say.'

'Did she tell you exactly what she said?' he asked her quietly. Octavia was not too sure whether he was angry with her, but she had to continue. The marriage of her two dearest friends was at stake.

'No,' Octavia replied, 'but she did tell me that she hit you.'

'She told me that she never wanted to see me again, so I obliged her request and went to London,' he said dispassionately. 'You see, she blames me for not allowing the rector to bury our child in the family vault. She calls him by a name, but I cannot remember what it is.'

'Henry,' Octavia whispered softly.

'That's it, Henry,' he said with a sigh. 'There was nothing I could do to change the rector's mind. He made it perfectly clear that the child, Henry, had not been christened and could not be buried on consecrated ground.'

'But, Freddie, she did not know that you had buried little Henry in the hollow by the wilderness,' Octavia said quietly.

'I thought I told her,' he said as he closed his eyes.

'You probably did,' Octavia replied, 'but at the time, she was not of a sound mind. She needs you, Freddie, now more than ever,' Octavia said solemnly. 'You still love her, don't you?'

Freddie nodded. 'Yes, yes, I do,' he said as he bent his head, 'but I have been a fool over the last year.'

Octavia nodded and took another deep breath. She knew that the conversation was going to get even more difficult. 'Katie knows,' Octavia said quietly.

Freddie stiffened and looked at her pointedly and said, 'what do you mean? "Katie knows."'

'She knows about Mrs Hamelin,' she said gravely.

'It is over,' Freddie said fiercely, 'and it meant nothing to me and it certainly meant nothing to her. I told you I was a fool.'

'But Katie doesn't know that,' Octavia said, 'you need to talk to her about it.'

Freddie nodded. 'Yes, I do,' he said as he raked his fingers through his hair. 'I should have talked to her a long time ago. As I have already said, I have been a damn fool.'

Octavia nodded. 'Yes, you have,' she replied, 'but it is not too late to salvage your marriage. I am going out this afternoon with Captain Fallbrook, and Olivia is spending the day at Holloway House. You will have the place to yourselves. Go and talk to Katie. Bare your soul to her and ask her for forgiveness. Please.'

Freddie nodded. 'I will,' he said in a whisper.

Octavia stood up to leave. 'I hope that you resolve this,' she said as she looked at him compassionately. She could see the torment in his eyes, and she knew that he was genuinely sorry for what he had done to his wife.

'Before you go,' Freddie said as she was just about to walk towards the door. 'After everything I have done over the past year, I have no right to dictate to you who you can see and cannot see. But, Octavia,' he added, 'please be careful. If you play with fire, you will get burnt.'

Alex arrived at Sommerville House at precisely three o'clock that afternoon. He was not at all certain about the reception he was going to receive. The last time he had spoken to Sir Freddie Sommerville, he had been told, in no uncertain terms, to keep away from Octavia and her family. As he knocked on the glossy black front door, he half expected Sir Freddie to be on the other side ready to give him his marching orders. However, when the door was opened by a liveried footman, Sir Freddie was nowhere in sight.

He was pleasantly surprised to see Octavia standing by a table next to the staircase. When he entered the hall of Sommerville House, she turned around to face him and gave him one of her dazzling smiles, and he could not mistake the look of genuine pleasure in her eyes. She looked lovely dressed in a simple but well-made cream walking dress complete with a light blue velvet spencer with intricate puff sleeves. Her straw bonnet, which was trimmed with ribbons of the same shade of blue as her spencer, framed her face. She picked up a blue parasol, which had been lying on the table, and started to walk over to him. Her outfit may have lacked the frills and flounces that so many women of fashion wore, but dressed as simply as she was, she would stand out of the crowd on any occasion.

'Good afternoon, Captain Fallbrook,' she said brightly as she walked towards him. 'It is such a lovely day, and I am looking forward to my drive in the park.'

He felt a little like a tongue-tied fool in her presence. It was a feeling he very rarely felt. 'It is a beautiful day, but compared to you, it pales into insignificance,' he said as he offered her his arm. As soon as he had said it, he felt a stab of embarrassment. He was behaving like a doltish mooncalf, something he had not done since he had been an innocent serious-minded youth.

She laughed and looked up at him. 'Oh, Alex,' she said, using his given name made the conversation seem so much more intimate. 'Are you flirting with me?' she said impishly. 'I have to warn you that I am immune to the charms of a gentleman.'

'Then,' he said, as his embarrassment melted away and was replaced by humour, 'I will have to try a little harder. Come,' he said,' let us go for that drive.'

'Oh, Alex,' she said in disbelief as they descended the steps of Sommerville House and saw, for the first time, the vehicle Alex had brought for the drive, 'is that yours?'

'No,' he said, 'It belongs to my older brother, Lord Huntingdon. He has lent it to me this afternoon so that I could impress you with my driving skills.'

'Is it a phaeton?' she said as she stared at the vehicle. 'I have never driven in one of those before. The seats look rather high off the ground.'

'Yes,' he replied, amusement in his voice, 'It is a high-perched phaeton. Do not worry, I do not need a winch to get you up there. You look as light as a feather.'

'That was my next question,' she said with amusement. 'How on earth am I going to get all the way up there,' she said, pointing at the narrow seats. 'In this dress?'

'Simple,' he said as he put his hands around her waist and lifted her up to the seat. He heard her gasp as he raised her up, but he was satisfied that no complaints came from her lips.

Alex quickly walked to the other side of the phaeton, then climbed up next to her. There was not much room on the small bench, and it felt intimate to be sitting next to her. 'You can hold onto my arm if you wish,' he said as he grinned at her and offered her his arm.

'I think I will,' she said as she linked her arm through his and shuffled herself even closer to him.

The tiger, who had been keeping the horses active while Alex collected Octavia, hopped behind them. And, with a gentle flick of the reigns, the phaeton began to move towards the park.

He could feel Octavia relax as they carefully made their way down the busy street towards the entrance of Hyde Park. 'They are beautiful,' Octavia said, pointing at the horses. 'Charles would say "they are as fine as a ninepence" or "bang up to the mark." He will be jealous of me when I tell him about this little outing.'

'No doubt he will,' Alex said chuckling, 'he always had a keen eye for good horseflesh. Anyway, tell me more about Charles. How is the young scamp enjoying Eton?' He had enjoyed teaching Charles and was genuinely interested to know how he was faring at school.

'Charles loves it,' Octavia said enthusiastically, 'he is always getting himself into one scrape or another. But, on the other hand, he works hard and is excelling academically. I never had the chance to thank you for everything you did for him. Without your guidance, I know he would have struggled. You gave him the confidence to deal with new situations and the self-reliance to stand up for himself.'

'I did very little,' Alex replied. He had enjoyed teaching Charles and had found him quick to learn, but Alex was not proud of what he had done during those first few weeks at Northleigh. He had spent a good deal of his time thinking up schemes to seduce Octavia into the bedchamber. If he was honest with himself, he had used his relationship with Charles to endear himself to her. He felt ashamed to think that he had had every intention of using her to sate his carnal desires, just as he had used countless women since Tarragona. But, instead of dishonouring her, he had fallen in love with her.

'No,' she said, as she squeezed his arm and looked up at him, 'in the brief time you were with us, you gave him the skills to succeed through the transition of boy to man. And, I will always be in your debt.'

Alex felt a wave of guilt. He had not been the man she was describing. Everything he had done at Northleigh had been done with ulterior and selfish motives; everything, except falling in love with her. 'No Octavia, you are not in my debt,' he said. 'In fact, I am in your debt.'

'Why?' Octavia said, 'I have done nothing.'

'Octavia, do you remember the fencing lesson in the gallery at Northleigh,' he said gravely.

He saw her smile and nod. 'Yes,' she said as a blush crept into her cheeks, 'I remember. You kissed me for the first time.'

'Yes,' he said with a sigh. 'And did you know that I had every intention of seducing you and dishonouring you in your own home? Under the same roof as your children,' he said ruefully.

'Of course, I did,' Octavia said lightly. 'I was not that naïve,' she answered him, 'I knew what you were doing. I could have stopped you if I wanted. But I didn't want to.'

'And that was the problem,' he said as he continued to look forward at the stationary traffic that was now blocking the road ahead. 'I was an experienced rake, and I knew exactly what to do to get what I wanted. I knew how to play with your emotions and to twist and bend them to my will. I was doing just that when I kissed you in the gallery at Northleigh. I knew that you were lonely and had had an unhappy marriage to Lord Kendall, and I also knew that you craved the comfort of an embrace so that you could forget for a moment your own isolation. But, all I wanted, at the time, was to satisfy my own fleshly desires, nothing else. I am not proud of that; not proud at all.'

'I would have been more than a willing participant in your scheme,' she said wistfully. 'What made you change your mind?'

'During the two weeks you were away attending Lady Sommerville, I had a chance to think. I began to feel an emotion I had not experienced for some time, guilt. For the first time since Tarragona, I felt ashamed of my behaviour. I was starting again to have the vivid nightmares, in which I relived Adams' death at my hands. The night you returned from Lady Sommerville's; I was drowning my sorrows in a bottle of the late Lord Kendall's cognac that I found hidden in your cellar. I was trying, without success, to drown the feelings of guilt that had crept up on me. Then, just when I could not feel any more of a cad, you returned from Evesham and told me what had happened to Lady Sommerville,' he added grimly.

They sat stationary in the busy traffic and waited for the road to clear. 'When I left Northleigh the next day, I thought I would never see you again,' he said with a sigh.

'Yet, here we are,' Octavia said, looking up at him, with a smile on her face. 'Though I do think that you are being a little harsh on yourself. If I remember correctly, it was me who ravished you in the library that night, not the other way around. If you must know, I was quite disappointed when you refused my advances.'

Alex smiled. 'You do not know how difficult that was refusing you,' he said softly, 'but you were too full of grief, and you would have regretted it in the morning.'

'Maybe,' Octavia said wistfully, 'but I do not think that I would. It is not in my nature to feel remorse.'

'Octavia, I intend to make it up to you,' he said seriously, 'I want the opportunity to right all the wrongs I have done to you.'

'You do not have to,' Octavia said, looking up at him with a troubled expression on her face.

'I am going to make sure that you enjoy every minute of this season,' he said with a flourish. 'After all those years you have been cooped up in Yorkshire, you of all people deserve to have a little fun.'

'I did not come here to have fun,' she said, looking at him with troubled eyes, 'I came here to establish myself in society for Olivia's sake.'

'You know,' he said, smiling at her broadly, 'you can do both.'

Octavia nodded. 'Of course, you are right,' she said after a moment of reflection, 'I suppose I can do both. After all, I did enjoy last night. But how are you going to ensure that I will enjoy myself,' she said cheekily.

'Are you not enjoying yourself now,' he said, pretending to look hurt.

'You know very well that I am,' she replied.

'There is something else.'

'Yes! What is it?'

'With your permission, of course,' he said with great aplomb, 'I would like to become one of your many admirers.'

She looked at him with a furrowed brow. 'But I do not have any admirers,' she said with a puzzled expression on her face.

Alex laughed. 'Believe me,' he said, 'after today you will have an army of them. All of them vying for your attention. I just hope you don't forget me.'

'Oh, Alex,' she said, looking a little concerned at the prospect, 'I could never forget about you. But I really do not think that anyone would be interested in someone like me.'

Alex sighed. 'They will,' he said solemnly, 'by the end of the season I would wager that you will have had at least three serious offers of marriage, and a score of less honourable offers.'

'I don't know if I want to marry,' she replied, her eyes wide with surprise, 'and I certainly don't want to accept any other arrangement.'

'You don't have to,' he said, laughing at her reaction, 'just enjoy the attention.'

As he spoke the traffic cleared and whatever obstacle had been blocking the road disappeared. The phaeton, under his expert handling, began to move, and it was not long until he guided the equipage through the gates of the park. 'And, of course, with your permission,' he said as they were moving sedately down the main thoroughfare, 'I shall be part of your entourage.'

'Oh, Alex,' she said with amusement in her voice, 'you really are most provoking. If I do indeed have admirers, which I doubt, you are more than welcome to join their ranks.'

'Excellent,' he said with merriment, 'I invited you this afternoon, not only because I enjoy your company, but I wanted to steal a march on my rivals.'

The phaeton was receiving a lot of attention as Alex drove them through the park. 'I want you to have a season for honour,' he said, breaking the silence, 'to make up for my mistakes.'

'Thank you, Alex,' she said seriously, 'you have been most kind.'
Chapter 22

As the phaeton entered the intricately fashioned park gates, Octavia could feel the prickle of tears in the corner of her eyes. Alex had promised to give her "a season for honour." His thoughtfulness touched her deeply. It was the first time in her life that anyone had done anything just for her. However, she also felt pangs of guilt. He had made this promise so that he could make atonement for the mistakes he had made at Northleigh; but, in her opinion, there was no debt to repay. She had been every bit as guilty as he had been; if not more.

They drove down the main thoroughfare of the park in silence. Octavia could see that they were attracting a good deal of attention from many of the park's occupants. Instead of disliking the attention, Octavia positively enjoyed it. She was in one of the most fashionable vehicles in the park, sitting next to an incredibly handsome gentleman. Instead of putting her head down, hoping that she would not be noticed, she tilted up her chin and looked boldly around her.

'Oh,' said Alex as they drew next to a smart-looking barouche, 'just the person I wanted you to meet.'

Octavia looked at the occupants of the barouche and suddenly felt nervous. She wondered why Alex had drawn up to this particular vehicle. There was a lady in her later middle age, dressed in the first stare of fashion in a russet walking dress paired with a slightly darker pelisse that was covered in elaborate embroidery. Her outfit was made complete by a bonnet trimmed with matching russet silk ribbons and large, ostentatious ostrich plumes that soared majestically into the air. Her companion, which one barely noticed next to the finery of the older woman, was a young girl, no more than seventeen years, dressed demurely in a pink sprig muslin dress with matching spencer. Octavia was not at all sure whether she wanted to greet someone as grand as the lady who had now lifted a lorgnette to examine her more closely.

'Mother,' Alex said as the phaeton came to a standstill, 'I was hoping to meet you this afternoon.'

The lady then transferred her gaze to her son and then to the phaeton. 'Alex,' she said, letting her lorgnette fall into her lap, 'is that Ralph's phaeton. I hope that you did not borrow it without his permission. He gets in the fidgets when anything is taken from his stables without his express permission, and I want him to be on his best behaviour this evening. He is to accompany Miss Haversham and her mama to the theatre tonight.' The grand looking lady, who, to Octavia's surprise was Alex's mother, turned around to look at the young lady, blushing by her side. 'Is that not so, my dear?' she then added addressing the young woman, who had to be Miss Haversham.

'Yes, my lady,' the young woman lisped quietly.

'Poor Ralph,' Alex said in a voice that only Octavia could hear.

'What was that?' his mother retorted sharply.

'Nothing' Alex replied as Octavia tried not to smile. 'Mother,' he then said seriously. 'may I introduce to you, Lady Kendall. Lady Kendall, my mother, Lady Huntingdon.'

The lorgnette, which had been resting in her lap, was raised to her eyes again. Octavia felt uncomfortable as she was subjected to another long stare through the gold-rimmed spectacles. 'So, you are the infamous Lady Kendall,' she said, 'I heard that you are good friends with the Duchess of Tyne.'

'Yes, my lady' Octavia said politely, 'I went to school with her grace.'

'And, you were at Holloway House last night,' she said, still looking at her critically.

'Yes, my lady,' Octavia replied, 'Flora, her grace, invited me.'

'I hope it lived up to your expectations,' Lady Huntingdon said. 'Holloway House is famous for its lavish and select parties.'

'It certainly did,' Octavia replied. She was surprised at how at ease she was conversing with Lady Huntingdon. Octavia was quickly discovering that she was not as shy as she thought she had been. She was holding a conversation with one of society's leading matrons, and she was not in the least bit nervous.

'It is good to see you in town, my dear,' Lady Huntingdon said as she lowered her lorgnette. 'It has been a while since your husband died, and it's high time you took your position in society.'

When Octavia had first seen Lady Huntingdon, she had half expected her to give her the cut direct. In her wildest dreams, she never expected the older woman to welcome her into society. 'I was invited down to London to spend the season with Sir Freddie and Lady Sommerville,' she said in reply. 'I am staying with them at Sommerville House.'

'You must come over one afternoon for tea,' Lady Huntingdon said graciously, 'and bring along your friend, Lady Sommerville.'

'Of course,' Octavia replied politely, 'we would love to come.' Octavia had no doubt that tea at Lady Huntingdon's would be just the thing to cheer Katie up. Katie liked to observe others, and Octavia knew that she would particularly enjoy watching this singular grand dame in her natural habitat.

'Good,' Lady Huntingdon said emphatically, 'I will send a card with my address to Sommerville House.'

'Mother, we are holding up the traffic,' Alex said firmly.

She waved her hand in dismissal. 'They can wait. People these days do not seem to have any patience,' she said acidly.

'Good-bye, Mother,' Alex said politely, but firmly. 'I would like to show Lady Kendall the rest of the park before it closes.'

Lady Huntingdon was looking through her lorgnette at the irate gentleman in a flashy looking curricle just behind her barouche. The gentleman had just made it clear to Lady Huntingdon's coachman what he thought of the delay. However, just one look from the formidable grand dame was enough to quell his tirade of abuse. 'Do not forget about my invitation, Lady Kendall,' Lady Huntingdon said as she returned her attention back to Octavia, 'I shall look forward to meeting you again.' She then signalled for her coachman to move. As the barouche majestically moved, once more, down the thoroughfare of the park, she looked around her and nodded regally to the people she knew.

'And that was my mother,' Alex said with a twinkle in his eye. 'She is a force of nature and a woman not to be crossed.'

'I can imagine that,' Octavia said with a grin, 'I nearly went to pieces when she raised her lorgnette and scrutinised me. I felt a little sorry for the gentleman in the curricle behind hers.'

'I'm afraid she's always doing that,' Alex replied, 'you get used to it after a while.'

'She likes you,' Alex said decisively, 'and I cannot say that about many people. She can be a little cantankerous, but her heart's in the right place.'

'I don't know why she should like me,' Octavia replied.

'You are friends with the new duchess,' Alex said, 'who will, no doubt, take the _ton_ by storm. Any close friend of her grace is guaranteed to be sort after by the likes of my mother.'

'I felt a little sorry for Miss Haversham,' Octavia said, changing the subject, 'she looks like she couldn't say boo to a goose.'

'For many years, my mother has been trying to marry off my brother, by presenting him with the most placid and insipid young ladies from the new crop of debutants. She should know by now that Ralph is not interested in any of them. But, every year, she has a new one ready for his inspection,' Alex said lightly, 'and this year, it is Miss Haversham's turn. She'll be disappointed, she always is.'

They continued to drive around the park, occasionally stopping to talk to people Alex knew. It was such a lovely day, and Octavia was enjoying herself immensely. In fact, it had been the perfect afternoon.

They were on the return journey to the gates of the park when two gentlemen caught Alex's eye. 'Oh, look,' Alex said irritably, 'it's Tonbridge. Do you remember him from dinner last night?'

Octavia nodded as she looked towards Lord Tonbridge and the gentleman who was standing next to him.

'I'll have to stop to talk to him, damn him,' Alex said testily. 'He's an old acquaintance of mine and related to Tyne. I'm afraid I can't ignore him, more's the pity. I wonder who the gentleman is next to him,' Alex then said thoughtfully, 'he looks familiar, but I cannot place where I have seen him before.'

Octavia had not paid any attention to what Alex had just said. She was still looking at Lord Tonbridge's companion, who was looking directly at her. There was something familiar about the dark looking gentleman. Then, it came to her like a bolt of lightning. It was her brother, Fabian.

'Fabian,' she said in a whisper. But she had whispered his name so softly that Alex had been unable to hear her voice.

'Good afternoon, Tonbridge,' Alex said coolly, 'fancy meeting you here this afternoon.'

'I thought I'd take the afternoon air,' Tonbridge replied as he leant against his walking cane nonchalantly. 'It is, after all, the place to see and be seen,' he added, looking over at Octavia. 'Lady Kendall,' Lord Tonbridge then said as he inclined his head towards Octavia. However, Octavia did not notice his acknowledgement of her presence, her eyes were still fixed on her brother, and she clasped the sleeve of Alex's jacket.

'Fabian,' she whispered again, a little louder this time. She felt Alex's hand cover hers, but the gesture did little to comfort her.

The silence that followed was broken by Lord Tonbridge. 'Fallbrook,' he said with an exaggerated air, 'may I introduce my good friend, Sir Fabian Stretton. I overheard you making plans for an afternoon drive in the park, and I thought it would be a lovely surprise for Lady Kendall to meet her brother after all these years.'

Fabian bowed towards the occupants of the phaeton with a flourish. He then looked directly at Octavia with cold dark eyes. As he stared at her, she felt her blood run cold. He looked a lot older than she remembered. Lines, from years of dissipation, were etched into the corners of his eyes and mouth and his skin was pale and had an almost yellow hue. He looked different from the vibrant young man, who, with her father's help, had orchestrated her marriage in return for half of her dowry. She had to draw on all her reserves of inner strength to remember that she was not the same cowering fifteen-year-old girl she had been when they had last met. Looking into his eyes, she had been immediately transported back to that fateful day when her life had changed forever. The day she had been taken away from her dear friends at Hillcroft and forced into marriage with a tyrant.

After the introduction, Octavia felt the muscles in Alex's arm contract, and he held her hand a little tighter. She had to remember that she did not need to be afraid of Fabian anymore. He had lost the right to be called her brother years ago when he had sold her against her will to a man old enough to be her grandfather. 'Tonbridge, what is the meaning of this?' Alex said through gritted teeth.

Octavia, not wanting to cause a scene in such a public place, placed her other hand on top of Alex's, squeezed it and looked up at him. 'It's alright, Alex,' she said gently. Octavia then turned around to her brother. 'Fabian,' she said with a surprisingly steady voice.

'What a pleasant surprise meeting you here,' her brother replied. Octavia had to suppress a shiver as he spoke. His face may have changed with the ravishes of time, but his voice had the same cold tone as it had had on the day, he had taken her away from Hillcroft. 'I didn't think that you ever left Yorkshire,' he added in the silence that had engulfed them.

They were being watched with curiosity by several groups of people, all well-known members of the _ton_. Octavia knew that the story of her marriage to Lord Kendall was common knowledge. She also knew that society would be watching her now and assessing her reaction to her brother's presence. She kept her head held up high in defiance, but she refused to look at her brother in the eye.

'I will call upon you,' Fabian said, after another protracted silence, 'I have a matter of great importance to discuss with you.'

'No,' Octavia heard herself say quickly. 'There is nothing left for us to discuss,' she added firmly. She looked down at him from the perch of the phaeton, and she knew that she never wanted to see him again.

'Well, Stretton,' she heard Alex say. His voice sounded distant, and she had the horrid suspicion that she was going to faint if she stayed in Fabian's presence much longer. 'You heard what the lady said, there is nothing to discuss.' And before either Lord Tonbridge or her brother could answer, Alex had flicked the reigns and the phaeton had begun moving away from the two men.

'Lean against me,' Alex said in a soft low voice as he took her hands with his free hand.

She leant against him, and slowly the world around her began to creep back into focus. 'I am going to take you back to Holloway House,' he said softly, but in a way that brooked no argument.

Within a few minutes, the carriage drew up outside Holloway House, and Alex had helped her onto the pavement. Her mind was still numb with the thought of seeing her brother again. When she had been planning her trip to London, it had not entered her head that she might meet her brother again. He had been a distant memory and one she had kept buried in the back of her mind for many years.

'Take my arm' Alex said as he offered her his arm, 'and lean on me.' She felt herself stumble up the steps of Holloway House, as another wave of darkness began to encroach on her vision. And then she slipped helplessly into the dark folds of the welcome oblivion that engulfed her mind.

There was a loud ringing in Octavia's ears, and the distant sound of a woman's voice spoke her name. As the voice became closer, she became aware of the acrid smell of smoke that was pulling her back into reality. 'Where am I?' she said as she opened her eyes slowly to see the silhouettes of two women kneeling next to her.

'You are at Holloway House,' one of the women said as she put a cool cloth on her forehead.

The blurred outline of the woman who spoke, slowly cleared. 'Flora,' Octavia said as she tried to get up.

Flora's hand rested on her shoulder. 'Lie still for a few minutes, until your vision clears,' she said, 'and drink a little brandy.'
Chapter 23

Alex had been furious with Tonbridge. He had overheard him inviting Octavia for a drive the previous evening. Then he had deliberately gone to the park that afternoon bringing along with him her estranged brother, Sir Fabian Stretton. Octavia had been shocked and distressed at the sight of her brother. It had been nearly twelve years since she had last seen him, and it had not surprised Alex that she had almost fainted on the way home from the park. Instead of returning her to Sommerville House, Alex had decided to take her back to Holloway House. Not only was Holloway House closer to the park, but he also knew that her grace, the Duchess of Tyne, would be at home. After all, the new duchess was her friend and more importantly, was known to keep a cool head in a crisis.

He had just managed to get her into the hall of Holloway House when she finally crumpled to the floor. Alex caught her in his arms and carried her up the stairs and straight into the drawing-room where he knew the duchess would be having tea.

He swept into the drawing-room without knocking on the door and placed Octavia on a sofa by the fireplace. 'Your grace,' he said, as he looked over towards the duchess, who was now standing staring at him with wide eyes, 'Lady Kendall has had a shock and has fainted.'

The duchess quickly knelt next to Octavia. She took her hand and then felt for her pulse on her wrist. 'She is as cold as ice, and her pulse is weak,' she said in a voice that betrayed no trace of panic. 'Fallbrook,' she said in a commanding voice, taking control of the situation, 'send for my maid and tell her to bring my vinaigrettes, some feathers to burn, a bowl of cold water and a cloth.'

Another woman, Rachel de Havilland, who Alex also knew well, was in the drawing-room with the duchess. She came over to Octavia and knelt by the side of the sofa. 'She looks very pale,' she said as she placed the back of her hand on her cheek. 'She's cold,' she said softly, 'I will fetch my shawl and wrap it around her shoulders.'

'Thank you, Rachel,' Alex said to her feeling nothing but a deep sense of helplessness. There was nothing he could do but watch the two women attempt to revive Octavia. Octavia was now being tended by the two women he knew he could trust to keep calm and not panic in an adverse situation. 'Alex,' Rachel said softly, 'please could you fetch me a glass of brandy. She will need it when she regains consciousness.'

He was hoping that Rachel de Havilland would still be at Holloway House. It was one of the other reasons why he had chosen to return here rather than Sommerville House. She always came to visit the duchess once a week to discuss matters at the school where the duchess was a governor, and she was the headmistress.

'Your grace,' a maid dressed in a smart black and white uniform said as she entered the room followed by a couple of footmen carrying a large bowl of water.

'Thank you, Susan,' the duchess said, 'good, you have also brought a lit candle.' The duchess then put the tip of one of the feathers into the flame until white smoke curled erratically into the air. Once she was satisfied that enough smoke was being produced, she wafted the feather under Octavia's nose.

It was with great relief that he saw her eyes flicker open. 'Where am I?' she said, looking weakly at the two women who were kneeling by the sofa.

The duchess then took a damp cloth and patted her forehead. 'You are at Holloway House,' she said in a soothing voice.

Octavia, who was not yet fully recovered and clearly agitated by her unfamiliar surroundings, tried to sit up. The duchess put her hand gently on her shoulder, guiding her back so that her head rested on the pillow. 'Lie still and drink a little brandy,' she said as she took the glass from Rachel and brought it carefully to Octavia's lips. Once she had taken a few sips of the brandy, the colour slowly began to return to Octavia's cheeks.

Alex, now relieved that Octavia had started to revive, put his hand on Rachel's shoulder. 'Rachel,' he said quietly, 'may I have a word with you.'

Rachel stood up and brushed the creases from the skirts of her plain grey light wool dress. She looked very different from the woman he had met in London four years ago when he had returned from Waterloo. Back then, Rachel had been working as a prostitute in a Mayfair brothel run by a gentleman called Lord Melrose. At the time, he had also been working for Melrose's organisation under the direction of Ellington. He used to collect debts for him and act as a guard keeping order in Melrose's many brothels. When he had first met Rachel, they had quickly become lovers even though unsanctioned liaisons between staff had been against Melrose's strict rules.

He had helped Rachel escape after she had been viciously assaulted by Lord Melrose. He had heard about St Margaret's, a school set up to help young girls escape life on the streets of London and had brought her there. Even though she was in her late twenties, the headmistress, who had then been the Duchess of Tyne before she had married, took her in. Not long after that, she had become a member of the teaching staff. In the intervening years, Rachel had transformed herself from one of Melrose's highly sort after courtesans into a respectable member of the community. Since the duchess had left to marry Tyne, Rachel had stepped-up and had become the headmistress of the school.

He felt guilty about the way he had treated Rachel. He had suspected that Rachel felt far more deeply for him than he ever did for her. He was incapable of feeling and had used Rachel's emotional attachment to him to deepen their affair and sate his own lusts. She had risked far more than him during their liaison, the women always did. Melrose made a public example of them when they broke the rules at the brothel. Rachel, even though she was one of Melrose's most sort after women, had not escaped his wrath. When she had been punished and humiliated for having a sexual relationship with him, she never revealed his identity to Melrose. Her loyalty and the almost forgotten pangs of guilt that it had produced was one of the reasons why he had helped her escape.

'Of course, Alex,' she said as they walked over to the window together, leaving the duchess to look after Octavia. 'What is it?' Rachel said once they had reached the other side of the room, 'you look as pale as your friend.'

'I need to ask you a favour,' he said as he looked out of the window to the street below.

She nodded her head. 'Of course,' she said, 'after everything you did for me.'

Alex now felt guilt stab him again. Rachel owed him nothing but contempt. And he was going to ask her to risk herself again for him.

'Do you know a Sir Fabian Stretton?' he said as he scrutinised her face to see if the name triggered a reaction.

Rachel's eyes widened slightly. She then took a deep breath and nodded slowly. 'Yes, unfortunately,' she said bitterly, 'he's an unpleasant character, especially when he is drunk. I remember, he got into trouble when he almost killed one of the girls working for Melrose. But,' she said pensively, looking out of the window to the street below, 'that was a long time ago. Long before I met you.'

'Have you heard anything about him recently?' Alex said as he also transferred his gaze to the street below. They watched as a couple of smartly dressed young ladies, followed closely by a couple of maids, who were burdened with parcels from a recent shopping expedition, walking down the other side of the street.

Rachel shook her head. 'No,' she said, 'I have not even heard his name spoken in years.' She then looked up at him with a questioning look in her eyes. 'Why do you want to know?' She then said, 'he was never anyone of great importance. He was certainly never in Melrose's inner circle, even though he tried his best to endear himself to him. Even when he had money, Melrose treated him with indifference.'

'He is Lady Kendall's brother,' he said softly, 'and she saw him today, for the first time in over twelve years.'

Rachel's eyes widened in surprise. 'Lady Kendall is Fabian Stretton's sister,' she said with incredulity, 'no wonder she fainted when she saw him again. She paused as though a thought just struck her. Did he not arrange her marriage to the letch, Kendall, to get his hands on her dowery? I remember it caused a scandal. '

'Yes,' Alex replied grimly, 'and she was only fifteen years old when he did it.' He then looked at her with troubled eyes. He knew that he was asking far too much from her. On the day that Rachel had left the brothel, she had sworn that she would never go back. 'I need to find out as much as I can about him,' Alex said feeling the stab of guilt once more pierce his soul, 'I can only help Lady Kendall if I know everything there is to know about Stretton.'

'You love her, don't you, Alex,' she said softly. Alex noticed the sadness in her voice and felt guilt once more.

'Yes,' he replied, 'I do.'

'Good,' she said wistfully, 'you deserve a little happiness after everything that happened to you in Spain.'

'Rachel,' he said as he looked down at his boots. He could not face looking at her in the eye as he spoke. He still felt a deep sense of shame for everything that had happened between them. 'I honestly do not know if I deserve any happiness. Not after what I did to you.'

She put her hand on his sleeve and looked up at him. There was a deep sadness in her brown eyes that Alex had never noticed before. Rachel had always been a master at masking her emotions, and he knew that this was a rare insight into the woman behind the carefully constructed façade. 'We have all done things we are not proud of,' she said, her voice barely a whisper, 'and we will have to learn to live with the choices we have made. We can never forget them, even though we may wish to throw those memories as far as the east is from the west. They have been woven into the very fabric of our souls and make us the people we are today. Alex,' she said, desperation had crept into her voice, and he knew that she was telling him this for her benefit as well as his own, 'we must believe that we can find happiness. If we do not, we may as well give up now.'

'Have you found happiness?' he said as he covered her hand with his and squeezed it gently.

She shook her head slowly. 'No,' she said with conviction, 'but I have found a peace of mind that I had lacked for many years. Maybe happiness will come with time, I do not know.'

Alex looked down at her and saw the look of regret in her eyes. He hoped that she would be able to find the peace that she was desperately searching for.

'I still have contacts,' she said, changing the subject, 'I will ask them about Lady Kendall's brother.'

'Don't put yourself at risk,' Alex said gravely, 'I don't want you to get hurt.'

Rachel removed her hand from his sleeve and laughed. 'Alex,' she said, 'what I do with my life is my own affair. Anyway, Alex, your concern should be for Lady Kendall. You have to remember that I have been looking after myself since I was fourteen years old and I will continue to do so now I am thirty.'

'I will find out as much as I can about Stretton,' she said as they walked back over to the sofa where Octavia was still reclining with the duchess kneeling next to her.

'Thank you,' Alex said as they reached the other two women.
Chapter 24

The day after the drive in the park with Alex, Octavia moved, along with Olivia, to Holloway House. It had been a relief for her to leave Sommerville House and give Katie and Freddie the time to talk privately about their marriage. On the day that Octavia confronted Freddie, the couple had begun to discuss the terrible mistakes they had made over the past eighteen months. They reached the conclusion that their marriage was indeed worth saving.

Olivia had been overjoyed to move to the home of her new best friend; and, the two girls, who had already formed a close friendship, soon became inseparable. Olivia had been very lonely since her brother had left for school. Lady Sophia, with her sense of fun and a propensity for making mischief, was just what she needed. In a few short weeks, she had transformed from a shy, awkward girl, who would not say boo to a goose, into a fun-loving young lady, who was gaining confidence by the day. Olivia was nearly twelve years old, and her body was beginning to show the signs of her transformation into womanhood. Octavia knew that she would soon start her courses, and she would no longer be a child. Just like her mother, she was changing, and Octavia was proud of her daughter.

The first fortnight she had spent at Holloway House passed quickly in a whirl of social engagements. The season had begun in earnest, and every hostess was vying for their moment of glory. During these two weeks, Octavia quickly learnt that a small hastily organised soiree, was, in fact, a large, lavish party attended by most of the _ton_. She also discovered that an intimate dinner party for "a few close friends," was actually a sumptuous feast that had been arranged to showcase the skills of the chef. It seemed that everyone wanted to outdo each other so that the following morning their function would be the talk of the town.

Octavia also discovered that living at Holloway House allowed her to see Alex almost every day. Although he did not live there himself, due to his job as the duke's secretary, he was there every day. Even though their encounters had been brief, and she rarely saw him at any social functions she had attended, he had been true to his word. He had begun to court her. Each morning he left her a small gift on the table in the hallway. She looked forward to discovering what he had left her, and her heart quickened when she descended the stairs each morning. She treasured each of his gifts. They were more precious to her than all the expensive jewels she owned.

The afternoon she had spent driving with him in Hyde Park had been bittersweet. She had enjoyed spending time in his company and had been especially touched by his concern for her. Even though he had nothing to apologise for, he had felt the need to ask for her forgiveness. She had tried to tell him that there was nothing to forgive, but she thought that she had not explained herself well. He had not only helped Charles in the few weeks he was at Northleigh; he had taught her something that night in the library. And, it was a lesson that had transformed her life and had ultimately brought her to London.

She remembered their conversation in the library and the John Donne quotation, "no man is an island, entire of itself." Since the death of Lord Kendall, she had shut herself away from the world. She had become a recluse because she was too afraid to talk to her neighbours and venture outside the gates of Northleigh. She had come to realise that she must leave the comfort of her familiar surroundings not just for her own sake, but for the sake of her children. If they had not kissed and shared that moment of intimacy, she doubted that their conversation would have taken place. Consequently, that defining moment would never have happened, and she would still be in Yorkshire imprisoned by the past.

Unfortunately, the idyllic afternoon had been ruined by the appearance of her brother, Fabian. Her memories of that part of the day were hazy. She remembered that Alex had not brought her back to Sommerville House. Instead, he had taken her to Flora. She had not seen Fabian since then, but she was continually looking over her shoulder in case he was there. Occasionally, she convinced herself that she had caught a glimpse of him, lurking in the shadows, watching her. But, whenever she looked a little more closely, the shadow was gone, and she was not too sure whether he was really there, or that her imagination was playing tricks on her.

Tonight, was the night of Flora's first ball as the Duchess of Tyne, and all thoughts of Fabian had fortunately been pushed out of her mind. Flora had been busy for the last week, finalising the arrangements for the grand event that would be her first full-scale entertainment since her marriage. She had helped Flora write out what seemed to be hundreds of invitations and she had assisted Flora with the arrangements for the grand affair. On the day of the ball, the house was full of the hustle and bustle of servants busy preparing for the event. It promised to be the most talked-about ball of the season and tomorrow every drawing-room in London would be buzzing with talk about its success.

During the afternoon, Octavia had accompanied Flora to check the final preparations. When they had entered the ballroom, she had been amazed at the transformation. The wooden oak panels, which had formally separated the ballroom from the music room, had been removed to make a much larger space that stretched the length of the house. Displays of dark red and cream roses lined the edge of the highly polished wooden floor, and their light floral scent, mingled with the smell of beeswax polish, filled every corner of the room with a pleasant aroma. There were hundreds of candles neatly arranged in two crystal chandeliers, ready to be lit later that evening to illuminate the splendour of the room.

'What do you think?' Flora said with a satisfied smile on her face as though she already knew the answer her friend would give.

'Flora,' Octavia said with wonder as she looked around the room and studied the displays, 'it is beautiful.'

'Do you think so?' she said, looking satisfied at the overall effect. 'I am rather pleased with how it looks.'

'The roses,' Octavia said with bright shining eyes, 'are the exact colour of your dress.'

Flora smiled. 'Now you know why I hunted high and low for that particular shade of red silk. I have not even shown it to Gilly. Please do not tell him, I want it to be a surprise.'

'My lips are sealed,' Octavia said with a grin.

They continued to walk around the edge of the ballroom admiring the decorations. 'Thank you for inviting us to stay at Holloway House over the past two weeks,' Octavia said, smiling up at her friend. 'I have enjoyed helping you organise the ball.'

'I would not have been able to do it without you,' Flora replied. 'How many invitations did we write in the end?'

'I lost count at two hundred,' Octavia said, 'and I have not seen any refusals.'

'I think that the _ton_ is curious to see the new duchess,' Flora then added as she picked a stray piece of ribbon from the floor. 'No one thought that Gilly would ever remarry after his first wife died suddenly.'

'Olivia is also looking forward to this evening,' Octavia said, 'she has not stopped talking about it for days. I understand that Sophia is organising a party in the schoolroom.'

'Yes, she is,' Flora said with a grin. 'She even took some of my roses to decorate the schoolroom. I do believe that they are going to spy on all the guests as they enter the house from the top of the staircase,' she then added.

Octavia and Flora continued to walk around the perimeter of the ballroom in silence until Flora stopped suddenly and took in a deep breath. 'How is Katie?' she asked seriously, the frivolity of the ball forgotten. 'You saw her yesterday, didn't you?'

Octavia nodded as they continued to walk. 'Better,' she said, 'much better.'

When she had visited them the previous day at Sommerville House, there had been a marked improvement in the atmosphere between husband and wife. Katie had taken her aside privately and had told her that they had both apologised to each other. Now they just wanted to regain the closeness that they had enjoyed before Will's birth. Katie still did not know if she would be able to trust Freddie again, but the enmity that had built up over the past eighteen months was starting to dissipate.

'At least they are talking to each other,' Octavia then said after a long silence, 'I suppose that is a start.'

'I am glad they are coming tonight,' Flora said.

'Yes, they postponed their trip to Kent for a few days. They want to be alone and get away from the crowds in London. I can hardly blame them. London is not exactly the place to begin to sort out their problems, especially when Mrs Hamelin is stirring up trouble for them.'

'That woman,' Flora said disparagingly, 'is a troublemaker. If she even sets foot across the threshold of this house, I will have her thrown out. Particularly after what she said to Katie at Lady Higgins' last week. I will not have that woman causing trouble here and spreading her malicious and spiteful gossip.'

'Oh, Flora,' Octavia said with a sigh, 'do you think that is wise? She will cause a scene, and your ball will be remembered for all the wrong reasons. I would just ignore her. She will, no doubt, leave early on the arm of her latest victim.'

Flora wrinkled up her face. It was a habit Octavia remembered from years ago when they had been at school together. 'As always, you are right,' she said reluctantly. 'I cannot throw her out, even though I have not invited her. She would have probably come under the escort of an invited guest, and it would not do to insult them as well.' Flora sighed. 'I do not know what they all see in her,' she said, 'but she had them all lining up at the beginning of the season, wanting to be her next dupe. I do not know why she is still chasing after Freddie and causing him trouble.'

'I think he wounded her pride,' Octavia said.

'How?' Flora said as she cocked her head to one side.

'Freddie finished the affair. And, from all the gossip I have heard about _that_ woman, she is usually the one that does all the finishing,' Octavia said looking up at Flora.

Flora nodded. 'Yes,' she said contemplatively, 'you could be right. That would account for her spiteful comments about Katie.'

They both turned around at the same time when they heard footsteps on the polished wooden floor. She could not help smiling when she saw that it was Alex, who had entered the room. 'Good afternoon, your grace, my lady,' he said as he bowed to each of them in turn.

'Good afternoon, Captain Fallbrook,' Flora said with a smile. 'Do you like it?' she said as she swept her arm around the room.

'It is magnificent,' he said, smiling at her broadly, 'you will be the talk of every drawing-room tomorrow.'

'I'm glad you like it,' Flora said, returning his smile. 'Well,' she said briskly, 'I must go to the kitchen and see how the preparations for this evening's refreshments are progressing. I will see you later for tea,' she said, giving Octavia a knowing smile. 'Good afternoon, Captain Fallbrook.'

Octavia thought that she had seen Flora wink at Alex before she disappeared through the door. Octavia already knew that there was no need for Flora to visit the kitchens. They had just talked to the cook and the housekeeper before they had inspected the ballroom. Everything had been running according to plan, and the kitchens certainly did not need another inspection. Octavia suspected that Flora had left her alone with Alex on purpose. She was an intelligent woman, with an extraordinarily perceptive eye when it came to human nature. Even though she had not discussed her relationship with Alex with her, she must have been aware of the attraction they felt for each other.

Octavia could feel the warmth accumulating in her cheeks as she looked down at her shoes. 'Lady Kendall, Octavia,' Alex said as he took her hand and held it in his.

She felt the familiar warmth of desire begin to develop deep within her as he gently held her hand Still feeling shy, she transferred her gaze from her feet to his face. 'Alex,' she whispered as she looked up at him.

Even though the room was full of servants, making the final preparations for tonight, they melted away into the background, and she felt like she was alone with him, just like they had been in the library at Northleigh. He kept hold of her hand and gently caressed her fingers. His touch, though gentle, continued to feed the desire she felt deep within her body. She wished that they had been alone so that he could take her in his arms.

'How are you?' he said softly.

'Very well, thank you,' she replied, 'Flora has been keeping me busy.'

They stood in silence as the hubbub of noise produced by the servants carried on around them. 'I am sorry that I have been neglecting you when I promised to court you.'

Octavia laughed. 'I do not mind,' she said, smiling at him. 'I have enjoyed receiving the little gifts you have left me.'

'I'm glad you like them,' he said, 'I am just sorry that I cannot spend more time with you.'

She squeezed his hand tightly and smiled at him. 'Please,' she said softly, 'do not feel guilty. I have enjoyed renewing my friendship with Flora. I had forgotten, over the years, how much I valued her friendship.'

'Yes,' he replied, 'the duke told me that the pair of you were as thick as thieves.'

Octavia smiled. 'Did he?' she said, 'I hope he does not object to me staying here.'

'Not at all,' Alex said reassuringly, 'he is happy when his wife is happy. And, it is evident to everyone that her grace enjoys having you here.'

'Is there any news regarding Fabian?' she said, changing the subject abruptly.

There was a pause, and Alex looked at her soberly. 'Yes,' he said, as he nodded his head slowly. 'He is here in London, living in lodgings in Cheapside.'

'Cheapside,' Octavia looked up at him, shocked by what he had said. 'But, when I was a child, we owned a house on Mount Street. I know that it is not the most fashionable district in London, but it is respectable.'

'He lost all his money years ago,' Alex replied, 'no doubt, he wasted it all on gambling.'

Octavia sighed. 'I do not know why this has taken me by surprise. I should have known that he would eventually lose everything. Freddie told me years ago that he tried to see me about a loan, but Freddie sent him away with a flea in his ear and told him not to come back.

'Be careful, Octavia,' he said gravely, 'he may be a wastrel, but he is devious and untrustworthy. I have someone following him, but even then, he disappears for hours, and we cannot find out where he goes. However, I do know that he is in debt to some very dangerous men, who will call in that debt. He is desperate, and he will stop at nothing to find the large sum of money he needs to pay them off.'

Octavia could see the grim expression on his face and knew that he was serious. 'I never leave the house without someone accompanying me,' she said solemnly. 'If I go out by myself, I always take Tillie with me.'

He took both her hands in his and held them tightly. 'If your brother decides to find you, Tillie will not be enough to save you. You need to take a footman as well as your maid. I will instruct Evans to be at your service.'

Octavia shook her head. 'I will do as you ask. I trust you, Alex,' she said earnestly.

He smiled at her and let her hands go. 'Thank you, Octavia,' he then said, 'I do not know what I would do if I lost you.'

'You are not going to lose me,' she said with a smile.

'Not even to one of your other admirers,' he said, trying to lighten the serious conversation.

'I don't know about that,' she said, smiling at him impishly.

'Have you promised any dances tonight?'

'Only the first two sets. I am to dance the first with Freddie and the second with his grace,' she said.

'Good,' he said, 'I would like to reserve the supper dance. I do believe it is to be a waltz.'

'I do not know if I am allowed to waltz,' she said, her eyes wide. She would have loved to waltz with him, but she knew there were strict rules associated with that particular dance. A lady had to have the permission from one of the patronesses of Almack's, and Octavia had yet to be granted that permission.

'I will talk to Tyne,' he said, 'his mother has connections. Anyway, you are no debutant, and I do not think that you need to ask their permission.'

'Then I will,' she said decisively.

'Good,' he said with a smile, 'I shall look forward to it.' He then took her hand and brought it to his lips. 'Until tonight,' he said gently.
Chapter 25

On the night of the ball, Alex had first seen Octavia as close friends and family of the duke and duchess gathered together to have dinner at Holloway House. She looked magnificent in an exquisite dress made from a delicate green silk that was a match for the emerald necklace she wore around her neck. The vibrant colour suited her mahogany hair and deep brown eyes.

Over the past two weeks, he had hardly seen her. His duties, as the duke's secretary, had taken up most of his time. The rest of his time, he had tried to gather as much information as he could, regarding her brother, Sir Fabian Stretton. Since the afternoon at the park, her brother had gone to ground, not frequenting any of his usual haunts. If it had not been for Rachel's timely intervention, he would never have found him.

One of her contacts had discovered that Sir Fabian had taken rooms in Clerkenwell, close to the bustling Spitalfields market. It would have been the last place to look for someone of Sir Fabian's reputation, as he had been famous for leading an extravagant lifestyle far beyond his means. Even though he was rarely invited to _ton_ events, he usually took rooms close to the fashionable centre of London, just off St. James's Street. He liked to keep up appearances of wealth by having an extravagant lifestyle. Even though no respectable hostess would invite him across her threshold, he was still a baronet and welcome in all the gentleman's clubs. He must have chosen Clerkenwell, with its labyrinth of streets, because it was an excellent place to hide.

As soon as Sir Fabian's lodgings had been discovered, Alex had employed a colleague from his days in the army, Everard Deveraux, to follow him. Sir Fabian must have thought that he would never be found in the darkened streets of Clerkenwell, and he had become careless. Deveraux had warned Alex that it had been far too easy to follow him, and he suspected that Sir Fabian might have thought that he was being watched. The dwellings in the district were all interconnected, and it would be easy for Sir Fabian to slip out unnoticed, even by the most experienced observer.

That afternoon, Deveraux had told him that Fabian had been following Octavia's movements during the day. This information in itself would have made him feel uneasy, but Deveraux had also told him something else that had troubled him even more. He had said to him that following Fabian had been easy, and this had made him suspect that he had done this on purpose. Alex now needed to find out why Fabian was following his sister, and, more importantly, why he wanted his movements known. In the past, Fabian had proved himself to be a cunning man and one not to be underestimated. He had made it difficult, but not impossible to find where he lived, and he was now laying a false trail that anyone could follow. Alex was becoming increasingly concerned about Octavia's safety, and he would not rest easy until her brother's plans had been revealed.

But tonight, she was safe. She was surrounded by friends and within the protective walls of Holloway House. Her brother had not been invited to the ball, and if he dared to show his face, he would be evicted before he could cause any trouble.

Shortly after dinner, the first guests arrived at the ball. Octavia disappeared upstairs to visit her daughter while the duke and duchess formed the receiving line to welcome their guests. She returned to the ballroom in time to join Freddie for the first set of country dances. He had watched her dance, with a twinge of jealousy. However, as the evening progressed the jealousy soon vanished. Even though she was dancing with other men, she frequently caught his eye and smiled at him warmly, while the faintest of blushes coloured her cheeks.

When it was time for the supper dance, he scanned the room to see Octavia standing with her two friends, Lady Sommerville and the Duchess of Tyne. As he came closer, he could see that Lady Sommerville and the Duchess were grinning from ear to ear and Octavia was blushing. When he reached the three women, he bowed to them and exchanged a few pleasantries regarding the evening so far. In truth, he was paying little heed to what they were saying. Instead, he was looking appreciatively at the woman standing in front of him. The woman who he was going to lead into a waltz.

'Lady Kendall,' he said to her, as he gave her a bow and held out his hand, 'I do believe that this is my dance.' She took his hand, and as he stood up, he could see that she was smiling at him.

'I must warn you,' she said as they made their way onto the floor, 'I am not a good dancer, and I have never danced the waltz in public. This week, Flora arranged dancing lessons with Mr Fenchurch, Lady Sophia's dance master, and even after hours of tuition with him, I still have two left feet.'

'Nonsense,' he replied, 'I have been watching you this evening. You dance gracefully.'

She laughed. 'Oh Alex,' she said, laughter still in her voice, 'now I know you are exaggerating my skills to be polite. When I danced with Freddie, I missed several steps in the country dance and nearly brought him crashing to the floor.'

'I thought that was part of the dance,' he said, trying to suppress his laughter.

'Do not laugh at me,' she said with mock hauteur, 'you will be sorry when I tread on your feet and bruise your toes. I am glad I was given permission to waltz before they saw me dance. Even now, I am surprised that I am not being dragged off the dance floor just in case I collide with a couple and bring everyone down like cascading dominos.'

Alex put his hand on Octavia's waist, and he felt her put her hand on his shoulder. 'That will not happen while I am leading,' he said softly. He could still sense her anxiety as they stood, waiting for the dance to begin. She was by no means an accomplished dancer, but he concluded that most of the mistakes she had made tonight were down to her lack of experience of dancing in front of hundreds of people. Even though she tried to conceal it, he knew that she was still self-conscious and worried about the gossip her presence might initiate. He took her other hand in his and smiled down at her. 'Relax,' he said, 'and look at me. It is always very lowering when your partner finds their feet more interesting to look at than their partner's face.'

She looked up at him as the music started and smiled nervously. 'I will try,' she said doubtfully.

'Just follow my lead,' he said warmly as he squeezed her hand reassuringly, 'I will look after you.'

After a few faltering steps at the start, she soon matched his steps, and as the dance progressed, she began to gain confidence. Even though he rarely danced these days, Alex was an accomplished dancer and was able to correct any mistakes Octavia made with ease. As she gained confidence, Alex began to twirl her around and move a little quicker.

'You look radiant,' he said as he spun her around the perimeter of the dancefloor.

Since the drive in the park, he had not seen her alone, and even now, they had the eyes of the _ton_ watching them. At the far end of the ballroom, there were a set of French doors that led onto the garden. As they approached the doors, he led her through them into the cool evening air. When they were outside, she made no objection when he offered her his arm. Instead, she linked her arm through his and leant her head affectionately against his shoulder.

He walked her down a gravel path until they reached a rose arbour that was covered in beautiful light pink roses. She turned around and put her hands on his shoulders. 'Are you going to kiss me?' she said as she slipped her hands around his neck and moved closer to him so that their bodies touched.

He put his hands on her waist and bent his head so that their lips just touched. He grazed his lips against hers, then placed his cheek against hers and held her in a gentle embrace. Even though he knew that she would not object to him deepening the kiss, he exercised self-control. He had not kissed a woman since he had kissed her in the library at Northleigh eighteen months ago, and he had forgotten how much he needed her. However, he did not want to spoil the moment, only to satisfy his needs. He had promised her "a season for honour," and kissing her passionately in the gardens of Holloway House, when anyone could stumble upon them, was not honouring her.

As they continued to hold each other, he could still hear the distant strains of the waltz floating through the open French doors of the ballroom, and along with the sweet smell of the roses, he felt the time was right to declare his feelings towards her. 'Octavia,' he whispered against her cheek, 'I love you.'

'And, I love you too,' she whispered back.

He lifted his head so that he could look into her deep brown eyes. 'I fell in love with you,' he said as he took both her hands in his, 'the moment I saw a certain young woman, who looked delightfully dishevelled, with her hair almost loose and her dress covered in grass stains, playing cricket on the lawn at Northleigh.'

'You loved me back then?' she said as she looked at him with surprise.

He nodded his head, and with one of his hands, he began to caress her cheek. 'Of course,' he said gently, 'I was a fool and did not realise it was love at the time. I had never been in love before, and I confused my feelings for you with pure lust. And that, to my shame, is why I wanted to seduce you.'

'Well,' she responded as she tipped her head against his hand and rubbed her cheek against it affectionately, 'I, for one, am happy that you did.' She smiled at him and put her arms around his neck. 'That afternoon in the gallery, when you kissed me for the first time,' she said as she began to caress the nape of his neck with her fingers, 'was the first time in years that I had felt alive. You awoke something in me that day, something deep inside that I never knew existed. And, I will always be grateful to you for what you did.'

He still felt a deep sense of guilt for what he had done to her. How could she be grateful to someone who only had her ruin in mind? 'But Octavia...' he began to say before he felt her finger resting on his lips.

'Don't feel guilty,' she said softly. 'Your guilt could come between us and destroy the precious feelings we have for each other. I know you have a past, and that you have done terrible things that must be put right, but you must understand, I am not one of them.'

He rested his forehead on hers and closed his eyes, and he could feel her fingers caressing the back of his neck.

'Alex,' she said, in a barely audible whisper, 'please kiss me like you did in the gallery at Northleigh.'

He remembered the passion of that kiss and the feelings that had torn through him. He did not know if he would be able to control that intense emotion if he gave in to her request. As her hand caressed the back of his neck, he felt her press her body against his. 'Please, Alex,' she said, her eyes searching his.

'Octavia,' he said huskily, as his lips gently grazed hers, and then he was lost. He slipped his hands around her waist and rested them on her hips. He felt her fingers run through his hair as she opened her mouth and deepened the kiss. He could feel the curves of her body through the sheer, smooth silk of her dress as one of his hands moved towards her breast. And, when he traced the curve of her breast with his fingers, he felt her quiver. He then traced the line of her jaw with his lips and began to kiss the sensitive skin just below her ear. Even though the fog of passion was starting to cloud his mind, Alex began to realise that if he did not stop, he would do something they would both regret. He broke away from the kiss and took both her hands in his. Then he took a step back to put a little distance between them. He looked down at her and saw that her eyes were still full of desire, and he nearly lost his resolve.

'I have nothing to offer you,' he said, his voice still ragged from the kiss. 'Not only have I frittered away my inheritance, but I have also squandered my life. You could find someone worthier than me to love.'

She let go of his hands and reached up to touch his cheek. 'No, Alex,' she said gravely, 'I could not.' She looked up at him and smiled again, but he could see tears welling up in the corner of her eyes. 'I fell in love with you the day we went fishing with Charles and Olivia,' she said as she traced the line of his jaw with her fingertips. 'That autumnal day by the river, seems like a lifetime ago,' she said wistfully, 'but I still remember it fondly.' She sat down on the bench and was framed by the roses winding up the trellises on either side of the arbour. He sat down next to her but refrained from taking her hand in his. 'I know you had ulterior motives for asking me to accompany the children that day. But, when you squeezed my hand, you were the first person to penetrate all the defences I had put around my heart after my marriage. I felt comforted by your words and your touch, and I know that you did not just say them to seduce me, you said them because you loved me.'

She stopped and looked at him. Her cheeks were still flushed from the kiss, and he could still see the desire shining in her eyes. 'I thought that my marriage to Kendall and all the cruelty I suffered at his hands had damaged me beyond repair. I thought everyone blamed me and thought that my husband was justified in his treatment of me. I thought I was incapable of loving anyone, except for my children, but even that love had been corrupted by my husband's memory. I thought that the best way to show my love for my children was to hide them from the rest of the world so they would not have to suffer the same torment as I suffered. But you, Alex, you were the one that revealed to me that I do not have to be defined by my past. You made me realise that I should not hide away from the world. Of course, I cannot change what happened, but I will not let my fear of the past affect my future.'

He nodded and looked towards the back of the house. 'But, Octavia,' he said with a sigh, 'can't you see that I am not worthy of you.'

'Alex,' she said softly, 'that is not your decision to make.'

The music stopped, and they could hear the chatter of people as they left the ballroom to find refreshments in the dining room. Was she right? Was it really her decision to make? He wanted to ask her if she would marry him, but he was not sure whether it was fair to bind her to him for the rest of her life. 'As always, Octavia, you have given me much to think about,' he said as he offered her his arm. 'Come, we had better go to supper before we are seen in the garden together.'
Chapter 26

So far, it had been a perfect evening. Since the afternoon, when Octavia had met Alex in the ballroom, she had been looking forward to their dance. As she was standing with Katie and Flora at the side of the ballroom discussing the evening so far, she was brimming with excitement as she waited for Alex to claim her for the supper dance.

'There is no need to ask you who you are going to be waltzing with,' Katie said, with a gleam in her eye. 'I can guess that it is the devastatingly handsome Captain Fallbrook. If I were not a married lady myself,' she said, her eyes twinkling with mischief, 'I'd be wanting to dance with him myself.'

'He is looking extremely handsome, dressed simply in black and white,' Flora added. 'I have seen several ladies vying for his attention, but he has eyes for none of them.'

'Yes,' Katie replied. 'And now you have permission to waltz, you do not have to worry what the old dragons have to say. Go and enjoy yourself, it is the most romantic of dances, and when you dance it with someone special, it can be perfect.' She then smiled mischievously at Octavia. 'And, if he takes you outside into the gardens,' she said, her eyes sparkling, 'it can only mean one thing. He wants to kiss you.'

Both women looked at Octavia, and she could feel the colour heighten in her cheeks.

'Oh,' Katie said, looking across the room, 'he is coming this way to claim his prize.'

Octavia glanced up and saw Alex walking over to them. Flora and Katie were right, he did indeed look "devastatingly handsome" dressed in black and white. His cool grey eyes were looking directly at her, and she felt her knees turn to jelly.

After he had led her onto the dance floor, she felt like she had to apologise for her lack of dancing skills. Even though Flora had insisted that she had tuition from Lady Sophia's dancing master, she was by no means accomplished. She had almost tripped up Freddie in the opening set.

However, she did not need to worry. After a few faltering steps at the beginning, she was soon dancing with confidence. He was such a good dancer that any mistakes she made he compensated with ease. This made her more confident, and she was soon twirling around the perimeter of the ballroom locked in Alex's arms. The ballroom and its occupants were soon forgotten, and she was only conscious of him.

She did not realise that he had guided her outside until she felt the cool evening air against her cheeks. Then she remembered what Katie had said to her before the waltz. 'If he takes you outside into the gardens, it can only mean one thing. He wants to kiss you.' She took his arm and leant her head against his shoulder as they walked towards the rose arbour. Her body tingled with anticipation as she walked next to him, and she hoped that Katie was right. It had been over eighteen months since they had last kissed, and now she longed for him to take her in his arms and kiss her once more.

Once they had reached the rose arbour, she put her hands on his shoulders and faced him. She was frightened that he would become apologetic like he had in Hyde Park and withdraw from her. With this in mind, she decided to take the initiative. 'Are you going to kiss me?' she said, and to encourage him, she slipped her arms around his neck and drew him close.

It was a chaste kiss. His lips brushed hers with a featherlight touch that left her wanting more. Instead of intensifying the kiss, like she hoped he would, he rested his cheek against hers and held her close to him. She listened to the strains of the waltz that floated through the air, closed her eyes, and the disappointment faded as she enjoyed the intimacy of the embrace.

'Octavia,' he whispered in her ear, 'I love you.'

She breathed in deeply and smelt the familiar scent of his masculine cologne, and she felt like she had melted into the warmth of his embrace. 'And, I love you too,' she replied softly.

He had then told her that he had fallen in love with her when he had seen her playing cricket at Northleigh for the first time. However, as he was talking to her, she could feel his sense of guilt and shame creeping into the conversation. She had tried to tell him that she did not regret their first kiss. It was difficult to describe how the kiss had made her feel, she could only describe it to him as feeling alive. However, as she was talking, she could feel him retreating from her, back into his world of regret and self-pity.

Her heart sank when he said, 'but Octavia.' She knew that he was going to apologise once more. She quickly responded by putting her fingers gently on his lips.

'Alex,' she said quietly, 'please kiss me like you did in the gallery at Northleigh.'

'Octavia,' she heard him say, his voice full of passion and desire. Then, she savoured the feel of his hands, touching her as she deepened the kiss. A frisson of anticipation surged within her as his hand moved slowly from her hips and found her breast. As he gently caressed its apex, he kissed the sensitive flesh behind her ear, sending ripples of warmth that pooled in the core of her body.

To her disappointment, she felt him stiffen as he broke the kiss and moved away from her. She immediately recognised the look of anguish in his eyes and knew that the guilt and shame of his past were still haunting him. How could they have a future together if he could not even forgive himself?

'I have nothing to offer you,' he had said. 'Not only have I frittered away my inheritance, but I have squandered my life. You could find someone worthier than me to love.'

At that moment, she knew that she would lose him if she could not make him understand that the only thing that mattered was love. Her first marriage had been to a wealthy man, with title and properties, but it had been far from happy. She had learnt the hard way that happiness cannot be bought or sold; it is something that blossoms out of love. She felt tears well up in her eyes as she tried to explain to him how she was breaking free from the past so that she could live for the future. She had told him, 'I cannot change what happened, but I will not let my fear of the past affect my future.'

However, her heart had sunk when he had said, 'can't you see that I am not worthy of you.' How could she, the woman she knew he loved, penetrate his self-doubt? She wanted to run back into the house, up the stairs and into the privacy of her bedchamber. All she wanted to do was to weep for what she could feel slowly slipping away from her.

They went back to the ballroom side by side, but there was both physical and emotional distance between them. The initial excitement of their tryst had now vanished and had been replaced by melancholy. Why would he not let her decide what was best for her own future? She had been convinced that tonight he was going to ask her to marry him, but his own guilt had held him back. It was so deeply ingrained in him; she was beginning to despair whether he would ever be able to let it go. He led her into the dining-room and brought her to a table by the window. She sat by herself for several minutes, while he procured refreshments, thinking about what she could say to him to convince him that it did not matter. When she, at last, glanced up across the room, she saw Flora and Katie walk towards her. She dreaded the barrage of questions she knew was about to come her way.

'Was I right?' Katie said when she had reached Octavia, 'did he kiss you when he took you outside?'

Octavia blushed and looked down at her hands and nodded.

'Good,' Katie said emphatically, 'it's about time you had a little fun.'

She saw Flora flash Katie a quelling stare. She then sat on the chair next to Octavia, and discreetly took her hand and held it gently. 'He didn't force you, did he?' Flora whispered.

'Oh, no,' Octavia answered quickly, as tears pricked the corners of her eyes. 'Nothing like that.'

'Then what is wrong?' she said softly.

'He cannot let go of the past,' she said, looking up at her friend. She knew Flora would understand what she was trying to say. Flora already knew about his past.

'He just needs a little more time,' Flora replied sympathetically, 'be patient with him. He does love you.'

Octavia nodded. She was in no doubt that he loved her, she was more fearful that he would let his guilt conquer that fragile love. She felt Flora squeeze her hand. 'He is returning,' she said as she handed her a handkerchief, 'quickly dry your eyes.'

Octavia obeyed her friend's command, wiped her eyes and sat up straight. As he walked over to her, she could see that he was holding two glasses of champagne. Once he had sat down next to her, he placed one of the glasses in front of her. He picked up the other glass, drained its contents and put it unsteadily onto the table. He had a strange gleam in his eye that she had not seen since the night in the library, and her heart sank as it dawned on her that he had started drinking again. It was the first time that she had seen him drink any alcohol since coming to London. How was she going to talk to him if his judgment was clouded?

Flora, who had also witnessed Alex's strange behaviour, looked at Katie and said, 'I think we'd better leave. If you need us,' she added, giving Alex a reproachful stare, 'we will be on the next table. Come, Katie.'

'Drink up, Octavia,' he said, once the two ladies had left and he had sat down in the chair Flora had vacated, 'you and I have unfinished business that needs to be resolved.'

'What do you mean?' she said quietly as she fingered the stem of her glass nervously.

'Tonight, I'm going to show you what I'm really like,' he said harshly.

'I don't understand,' she said, looking into his grey eyes that were hard like flint, 'I already know you.'

'You don't really know me,' he said as he took her glass and drained the contents. 'I'm going to take you to the library, and I am going to do to you what I should have done in the gallery at Northleigh,' he said as he put his hand on her knee. Even though she was frightened by the harsh look in his eyes, she could not help but feel a frisson of excitement that his expert touch had evoked.

'Don't worry,' he said as he leaned over to whisper in her ear, 'it won't take long, and no one is going to miss us. You just need to know that you made a lucky escape tonight. You could have been shackled to me for the rest of your life. And, believe me, I would have made your life miserable.'

'But Alex,' she said. She was stopped abruptly by his hand that was now stroking her inner thigh. She wanted to say no and to tell him to sober up. She wanted to stand up with dignity and walk out of the room with her head held high. But instead, her head began to swim with pleasure as she closed her eyes and savoured his touch.

'Come,' he said bitterly, 'and then have done with me.'

She stood up, unsteadily and nodded. 'I will come with you,' she said nonchalantly, putting her hands on the table to steady herself. 'But I must warn you, Alex, after tonight, I will not be done with you.'

As he took her hand, he smiled wolfishly at her. 'You will be once I'm through with you.'

She still held his hand as she followed him into the hallway. She had to almost run to keep up with his steps, and several times she tripped over the silk hem of her dress. He did not slow down when she stumbled, he just pulled her along until they had reached the door of the library.

'Have you changed your mind?' he said when he had stopped outside the door.

'No, Alex,' she said resolutely, 'not unless you have changed yours.'

'You will live to regret your decision. I'll not marry you whatever the consequences of tonight. You'll be a fallen woman, and I'll do nothing to help you,' he said coldly.

'I won't regret the consequences you are referring to,' she said with a steely edge to her voice. 'I am no innocent straight from the schoolroom. You forget that I was married for two years and am fully aware of what could happen,' she said tartly. 'If I was not willing to face the "consequences."' she added acidly, 'then I would not be here with you now.'

'What if I get you with child?' he said forcefully, 'you'll be an outcast.'

Then she suddenly realised why he was acting out this charade. From the start, he had been warning her away and trying to get her to change her mind. He was trying to frighten her so that her love for him would be replaced by disgust. However, after two years of living with Kendall, she was not so easily frightened. She knew that she was playing a dangerous game and that if she lost, the least he would do to her was break her heart. But it was worth the risk. This could be the only opportunity she had to penetrate the armour he had put around his heart after Tarragona. She knew that the Alex who loved her dearly was still buried in this stranger. She just had to reach out to him, and this might be the only opportunity she would ever have.

'You need not worry,' she then said dispassionately, in a manner that matched his hauteur, 'I will not apply to you for help if I do indeed find myself an "outcast."'

His hand hovered over the handle of the door, and she could see him falter. She looked up at him and saw the guilt creeping back into his eyes, and she knew that if he walked away now, she would lose him forever. She put her hand on his and pushed down on the handle. After the door had swung open, she walked inside. As she walked past him, she took his hand. 'Come, Alex,' she said softly. When she had shut and locked the door, she walked over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. 'We still have that unfinished business to resolve,' she said in a soft low voice, as she reached up to kiss him.

When Alex had entered the room where supper was served, he had an overwhelming urge for a drink. He had had cravings for alcohol since he had stopped drinking, but up until now, he had always found the will to conquer them. However, tonight, he could feel the need for a drink overcoming his intention to remain sober.

Once he had led Octavia across the room and had sat her down on a table close to the window where they would get a little privacy, he immediately went to the refreshments table where he knew spirits were served. He drank several large glasses of whisky in quick succession until he could feel the alcohol numbing his mind. As the alcohol began to take its welcome effects on his body, he could feel the man he left behind when he had stopped drinking, slowly return. It was the man who did not feel guilt or remorse for anything he did. He downed another large glass and signalled for the footman to refill it, as he thought of a way, he could show her that he was the same lecherous libertine that he had always been. While he drank another glass, it finally struck him what he must do to show her that she was not worthy of him. He would give her a glimpse of the man he had been during those four years after Tarragona. He would show her his dark side, the part of him that he had always kept hidden from her.

Once he had finished the glass of whisky, he picked up two glasses of champagne and walked over to her. As he approached the table, he could see from her eyes that she had been crying, and he very nearly lost his resolve. However, he took a deep breath and pushed any doubts he had to the back of his mind. She had to see him as he saw himself - a debauched rake, who would stop at nothing to satisfy his own desires.

'Drink up, Octavia,' he said fiercely, 'you and I have unfinished business that needs to be resolved.'

He had now drunk both glasses of champagne, and he could feel his speech beginning to slur. He continued to speak harshly to her, as though he didn't care. He put his hand on her knee and began to fondle and stroke her inner thigh. Only a rake set on a woman's ruin would do such a blatant act in a public place, and he wanted his perverse actions to revolt her. Once he had finished speaking, he had left her in no doubt of what his invitation would involve. He wanted her to know that their union would be quick, sordid and devoid of any emotion.

'You just need to know that you made a lucky escape tonight. You could have been shackled to me for the rest of your life. And, believe me, I would have made your life miserable,' he warned, trying to frighten her further.

He could sense that her breathing was ragged, and he hoped that it was with rage. However, when he looked in her eyes, he saw desire, not disgust. He continued to caress the inner part of her upper thigh, hoping that his flagrant disregard for her honour would bring her to her senses. 'Come, and then have done with me,' he had said savagely, trying to scare her.

Once he had finished talking, she stood up slowly and nodded to him coolly, 'I will come with you.'

Instead of the furious woman he hoped would storm out of the room, she looked completely composed and unruffled. A flash of remorse for what he was planning to do to her flashed through his mind when she had said to him, 'But I must warn you, Alex, after tonight, I will not be done with you.'

She still needed to know what type of man he was, but doubt was slowly creeping into his mind. What if after tonight, she still loved him? He pushed that thought to the back of his mind. How could any woman love a man who was set on her ruin?

He then grabbed her by the hand and led her out of the crowded dining-room. He almost dragged her across the hallway and down the corridor to the library. He knew that her progress was hindered by the skirts of her dress, but he did not slow down to accommodate her faltering steps.

Once they had reached the library door and he had placed his hand on the handle, he stopped and looked at her. 'Have you changed your mind?' he said, giving her one last chance to put an end to a series of events that he was starting to realise they would both regret.

When she refused to go, he tried once more to warn her. 'You will live to regret your decision; I'll not marry you whatever the consequences. You'll be a fallen woman, and I'll not help you,' he had said harshly.

She stood up straight and looked at him directly in the eyes. 'I am no innocent from the schoolroom,' she had said sharply, showing him no fear. 'If I were not willing to face the "consequences." I would not be here with, you know.'

He had to warn her one last time. 'What if I get you with child? You'll be an outcast.'

He hoped that this would be enough, but there was a steely look of determination in her eyes that warned him that she had not changed her mind. 'You need not worry,' she had said to him coldly, 'I will not apply to you if I do indeed find myself an "outcast."'

As he held onto the handle of the door, he was about to put an end to this madness. If only he had not had so much alcohol after an extended period of abstinence, he would have never attempted to hurt her. It had seemed like a foolproof plan when he had been at the refreshment table drinking glass after glass of whisky. But, now, after he had had a little time to sober up, he was beginning to see the folly of his actions.

He was about to withdraw his hand when he felt her hand cover his and then push down gently so that the door opened. 'Come, Alex,' she had said in her familiar sweet soft voice, as she took his hand and he meekly followed her. After she had closed the door behind them and turned the key in the lock, she looked up at him and entwined her arms around his neck. 'We still have that unfinished business to resolve,' she said in a low husky voice.
Chapter 27

'Well,' Octavia said, smoothing the creased silk of her skirts, 'how do I look?'

'Beautiful,' Alex said, as he brushed a stray tendril of her hair behind her ear. 'Good enough to kiss,' he added as he bent down and kissed her soundly on the lips.

She entwined her arms around his neck and smiled at him.

'What are you smiling at?' he asked curiously.

'I did warn you that I was not finished with you,' she then added mischievously.

'Vixen,' he said, as he pulled her closer. 'I was a fool to think that I could so easily purge you from my mind.'

'Yes, you were,' she said, as she stroked his cheek tenderly, 'you were foolish to even try.'

'I hope that you did not promise the dance after supper to anyone,' he said, as he looked at the clock on the mantelpiece, 'we have been here well over half an hour, and I can hear the music coming from the ballroom.'

'And, you promised me that I would be back before the end of supper,' she said pointedly.

'Please, Octavia,' he said, shaking his head, 'do not remind me of how gauche I was earlier.'

Octavia silenced him with a kiss and said, 'Alex, you must promise me that you will never apologise for tonight.' She lifted her hand and ran her fingers down the length of his cheek and then traced the line of his lips lightly with her fingertips. 'You gave me plenty of opportunities to say no. I did, after all, lead you into the library. If I had not opened the door, you would have changed your mind.'

Alex nodded. 'I don't deserve you, Octavia.'

She reached up and kissed his lips lightly to silence him again. 'Yes, you do,' she whispered against them. She then put her head against his chest and listened to the rhythmical beat of his heart.

'Octavia, I would like you to be part of my future,' he said softly. 'I cannot promise you much materially, but I can offer you my heart.'

There was a brief silence. 'Alex, is this a marriage proposal?' she said as she looked up at him, the twinkle of mischief returning to her eyes.

Alex nodded. 'Yes, it is,' he said apologetically, 'and a very sorry excuse for one it is.'

'No,' she said thoughtfully, 'it was beautiful. I don't need some lovelorn swain on bended knee, reciting poetry and making promises he has no intention of keeping. I want you, Alex, body and soul.'

Alex then took a step back and fell to one knee. 'Lady Kendall,' he said with a flourish, as he took her hand in his, 'would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?'

'Yes,' she said, as she began to laugh, 'and you better get up before you start reciting poetry.' He stood up and kissed her. 'We could be married in a couple of days by special license,' she said. 'I don't think I could bear a long wait.'

'Certainly not,' Alex said. 'My proposal may have been lacking in all decorum, but our wedding should be extremely respectable. We also have Olivia and Charles to think about. They should both be present at their mother's wedding. I would also like to talk to Charles, man to man, about the future. I know I will not be his guardian, but I would like to advise him as a father. I do not want him to feel that I have usurped his place as head of the household.'

Octavia sighed. 'Of course, you are right. It would be unfair on them to marry in haste. I know that Charles likes you, but I would not want to jeopardise that by doing something that will also affect his life. Anyway,' she said the spark of mischief returning to her eyes, 'we could always sneak away and find a quiet spot at a ball or party.'

Alex laughed. 'No, we will not, my little wanton. We are going to behave with propriety until our wedding night. I told you I was going to give you "a season for honour," and that is what you shall have. Making love to you in dark corners in someone else's house is not honouring you.'

'Oh, Alex,' she exclaimed, 'you are no fun at all.'

Alex held her close. 'Next time,' he whispered in her ear, sending shivers down her spine, 'I want to take my time to savour you.'

'I will wait,' she said.

'We better get back to the ballroom before we are missed,' he said as he picked up her abandoned hair comb from the floor.

'Am I presentable?' Octavia asked as she looked down at her sadly creased gown.

He stood opposite her and straightened the bodice of her dress. 'Not at all,' he replied as he raised his eyebrows. 'If you walked into the ballroom looking like that, you will be the latest on-dit in every drawing-room for at least a week, maybe two. I suggest you go to the ladies withdrawing room and get one of the maids to smooth out those creases. Here,' he said, as he wound the coil of hair that had come loose and fastened it back with the comb, 'now you look a little less dishevelled.'

'It is not fair,' she said, looking at him as he fastened his cravat. 'You look just as unruffled as you did when you arrived this evening. I thought that a gentleman's valet spent hours on his neckcloth to get it just so, and here you are, even without a mirror, you have tied it perfectly.'

Alex grinned at her. 'I learnt that skill when I was in the military.'

Within a few minutes, they were ready to go. Just as Octavia reached out her hand to unlock the door, Alex took it in his and held it gently. 'Thank you,' he said quietly, 'as he brought her fingers to his lips, 'for showing me what a fool I have been.'

Once he had reluctantly let go of her hand, Octavia turned the key, and the lock clicked open. 'I never thought I could give my heart to any man after Kendall,' she said, 'but, Alex, you have won mine.'

After Octavia had opened the door, she looked out to see if the coast was clear. As she poked her head around the door, she could hear a commotion that sounded like it came from the entrance hall. As the sound grew louder, she saw a small group of people coming towards them. One of the gentlemen in the group was protesting strongly to the way he was being treated, but she could tell that his complaints were falling on death ears.

As they came closer, she recognised Katie, who was looking unusually pale as anger flashed dangerously in her eyes. Then Octavia saw the recipient of her wrath; it was the infamous Mrs Hamelin. 'What is she doing here?' Octavia said to Alex. But before he could reply, she answered her own question. 'No doubt, she is stirring up trouble for Katie and Freddie.'

When she turned to Alex, he could see that he was staring with contempt at the gentleman, who was walking beside Mrs Hamelin. As the group entered the library, an icy cold fear crept into Octavia's heart. She grabbed onto Alex's arm. 'It's Fabian,' she said, frightened that the shock of seeing him again would cause her to faint.

They withdrew back into the library before the rest of the group entered. Octavia stood next to Alex and held his hand for comfort. When they all assembled in a group just inside the door, they all eyed the unwelcome visitors with suspicion. Katie, her eyes still burning with anger, went up to Mrs Hamelin and struck her hard across the face. 'How dare you come here, you whore,' she said through clenched teeth.

Mrs Hamelin, seemingly unperturbed by the insult, just smiled at her. 'Jealous?' she said nonchalantly, 'and so you should be. Freddie always did say that you were a vicious termagant.'

'How dare you?' Katie said through gritted teeth and would have launched at her rival if Freddie had not placed his hand on her arm. She shook off his hand and continued to stare angrily at Mrs Hamelin.

Mrs Hamelin, who continued to stand her ground, looked at Katie with contempt. 'It is difficult to see what he sees in you, my dear,' she sneered condescendingly. 'I suppose you're good for breeding,' she then said scornfully, 'like a prize farmyard sow.'

The Duke of Tyne quickly stepped between them to diffuse the tension between the two rivals. He then turned around to address both Mrs Hamelin and Fabian. 'I'm afraid, I am going to have to ask you to leave,' he said coldly, 'this is a ball strictly for invited guests.'

'Ah!' Fabian said as he produced a cream card embossed with the duke's coat of arms. 'Here it is,' he said as he gave it to Tyne. 'I thought you wouldn't mind if I brought a dear friend with me.'

Tyne looked at the invitation and handed it to Octavia. 'Do you recognise the writing?' he said softly.

She looked down that the invitation and saw her brother's name, written in her own hand. 'Yes,' she said, 'it looks like mine, but I never...' she stopped and stammered, 'but I never wrote it.'

'Stretton, I don't know what game you're playing, but I think you should leave,' Tyne said through gritted teeth.

'What!' Fabian replied, as he looked at Mrs Hamelin and Katie, who were still staring at each other, 'and miss out on all the fun. However, from the look of my sister, it is not me you should be berating. If I'm not mistaken, she has been playing the whore, under your own roof, with that rake Fallbrook.'

Octavia stiffened. She was not going to cower while her brother spoke to her in such a manner. She took a step forward away from Alex and walked over to him. 'What I do,' she said in a voice that matched his for coldness, 'is none of your business.'

'You are quite right, of course,' he said, 'it is none of my business, but you must admit that it is rather amusing.'

'What do you want, Fabian?' she spat out, 'tell me and then leave.'

He took a fob watch from his pocket and looked at the time. 'Money,' he said, as he snapped the watch shut and returned it to his pocket, 'say twenty thousand pounds.'

Octavia looked at him incredulously. 'I do not have that kind of money,' she said in disbelief, 'you cannot take what I do not have.'

'You'll find it,' he said smoothly. And just as he finished talking, there was a frantic knock on the door. 'Good,' he said, 'a few minutes late, but better late than never.'

As he finished talking, Miss Sydenham, Olivia's governess, burst through the door. 'My lady,' she said, breathing quickly, her voice edged with panic, 'it's Olivia, she's gone.'

Cold icy fingers of fear began to grip her heart, and she felt her world slipping away from her. She had to fight the urge to faint, as dark spots crept slowly from the perimeters of her vision. What good would she be to Olivia if she fainted? She took a deep breath and steadied herself. However, before she could speak and question Miss Sydenham, Alex had leapt forward and had grabbed Fabian by the lapels of his jacket. He then pushed him up against the wall and punched him in the stomach so hard that Fabian began to moan. 'Where is she, you bastard?' he said through gritted teeth, 'if you don't tell me, I swear I'll kill you myself.'

'If you do that,' Fabian said, wheezing from the assault, 'you'll never find her.'

Alex let go of Fabian, and he staggered away from the wall, clutching his stomach. 'If you want to see your daughter again,' he said, straightening up and looking directly at Octavia, 'you will pay me the money.'

'But, Fabian,' she said, her voice strained, 'I do not have that much money.'

'I'm sure Sommerville, being the girl's guardian, will help. You cannot plead poverty, Octavia, I know that your son's estate makes more than that in profits every year. I'll give you two days to find the money. Remember, I can only guarantee Olivia's safety until then.'

'How could you?' Octavia said viciously, 'she is your niece.'

'Needs must,' he replied impassively. 'Let me warn you, she has been taken by some very ruthless men, who will stop at nothing to get their money.'

'We will pay,' Freddie said, as his eyes narrowed, and he looked at both Fabian and Mrs Hamelin in contempt. 'Did you know about this?' he said, turning around to face her, his eyes flashing with rage.

'Why, of course, I did,' she replied, not hiding the vitriol in her voice, 'I wanted to hurt you and that spiteful bitch you're married to. And looking at your faces now, it has been worth it.'

Katie, who up until now, had been silent, launched herself at Mrs Hamelin. She grabbed her elaborate hairstyle and pulled it hard until Mrs Hamelin screamed out in pain. After the initial shock of having her hair pulled, Mrs Hamelin managed to twist herself out of Katie's grasp, and the two women collapsed onto the fall in a flash of brightly coloured silk. Freddie and Tyne managed to pull the two women from each other, but as they were pulled apart, they were still throwing unladylike curses at each other as their arms flailed around like windmills, trying to get the last blow.

'Calm down, Katie,' Freddie said softly, 'she is not worth it, and Octavia needs you.'

Katie quickly calmed down and stood by Octavia side, looking just as dishevelled as her friend.

'We will pay,' Freddie said, 'but you must guarantee Olivia's safety.'

'Agreed,' Fabian said, 'I will send a messenger around tomorrow morning with the details of where to leave the money.'

The Duke of Tyne looked at Fabian with a look that would have shaken an ordinary man. 'If you cheat us, I will kill you myself,' he said ominously.

Fabian shook his head, and for the first time, that evening, looked shaken. 'I will keep my end of the bargain if you keep yours,' he replied.
Chapter 28

'I'm going to follow that bastard and find out where he's going,' Alex said quietly as Mrs Hamelin and Sir Fabian left the library. He looked towards Octavia, who was now sitting on a chair with Katie kneeling beside her. She looked pale and drawn, so very different from the vibrant woman who had accepted his proposal of marriage barely half an hour ago.

She looked up at him with eyes that were round with fear. 'You will find her,' she said.

'Yes,' he replied solemnly, 'will find her and put an end to this madness.' He then turned to Tyne. 'Please look after her,' he said.

Tyne nodded. 'Send word if you need my help,' he said briskly.

'I'll come with you,' Freddie said, 'I am, after all, Olivia's guardian.'

'It's better if he goes alone,' Tyne said, 'and we need you here to arrange any ransom. If Fallbrook cannot find her, it may be our only option for getting her back.'

Freddie nodded reluctantly.

Alex quickly left the library and went into the hall. The ball was still underway, but there were a few guests, who had wanted to leave a little early to avoid the queue for carriages, milling around the front door. He quickly made his way towards the door, ignoring any attempts that they made to engage him in conversation. Once he was outside Holloway House, he then scanned the street for any sign of Mrs Hamelin and Sir Freddie. Then he caught a flash of scarlet from the silk of Mrs Hamelin's dress and identified the carriage that they were using. He was about to cross the road and hail a Hackney carriage when he felt someone draw him into the shadows.

'Don't worry about them,' said the familiar voice of Everard Deveraux. 'I know where they are going,' he said knowingly.

'But,' Alex said urgently, not wanting to let them out of his sight, 'they have kidnapped Lady Kendall's daughter and are holding her for ransom.'

'Stretton is a devious little bastard, and I would not trust him as far as I could throw him, but this is far too organised for an oily little card shark like him. No, the men we are dealing with, are far more dangerous. Anyway, I know where they have taken the girl.'

'Where?' Alex said quickly.

'To an inn just off the Holloway Road,' he said. 'Don't worry, Miss de Havilland is watching them.'

'Rachel?' he said, 'how did she find them?'

'I don't know,' he said shaking his head, 'she just turned up outside my usual vantage point, watching Stretton's lodging in Clerkenwell, and told me that I was a fool if I thought he was there. She then ordered me to go and get you and bring you to The White Horse, an inn on the Holloway Road. Afterwards, I felt like I had been told off by an elderly aunt, who just happened to be dressed like a highwayman. She is quite a remarkable woman,' he said wistfully. 'Quickly, we have no time to lose, or she'll give me another dressing down,' he said with a grin.

Alex nodded and followed Deveraux to a Hackney that he had left waiting for them. 'The White House, Holloway Road,' he ordered, 'and I'll give you an extra shilling if you get us there quickly.'

During the short journey, in which they were rocked vigorously from side to side, Deveraux briefed Alex with everything that Rachel had told him. 'Miss de Havilland told me that the men that took the girl were working for Lord Melrose. Stretton owes him a lot of money, and the ransom from the kidnap will partially pay the debt.'

'Partially?' Alex said, looking puzzled, 'he wants twenty thousand for the girl's safe return.'

'Only twenty grand,' Deveraux said, shaking his head, 'no wonder Miss de Havilland is worried. She told me Stretton owed Melrose close to forty.'

'What is Melrose up to?' Alex said with a weary sigh. Alex knew full well that Melrose would not be satisfied until Stretton had paid him every single penny he was owed.

'Miss de Havilland reckons that he has no intention of giving the girl back when the ransom is paid. She said it would be easy for them to replace the girl with someone who looks just like her. She told me that from a distance, no one would know until it was too late.'

Alex felt sick in the pit of his stomach. He knew what they would do to her. A high-born young virgin would fetch a high price at one of his sordid auctions. 'I hope we get there in time,' Alex said, as he opened the window to shout at the driver.

'So do I,' Deveraux said gravely, 'there must be a way of stopping men like Melrose.'

'Unfortunately, he's a very powerful man,' Alex said grimly, 'with friends in very high places.'

The Hackney came to a standstill, and the two men got out. It was now just after midnight, but the streets were still bustling in this busy part of London on the edge of the city. As they approached the inn, the lights were still blazing through the open windows, and there was the raucous sound of singing coming from the taproom. As soon as they had paid the driver, Rachel joined them. She was wearing leather trousers that she had tucked into her riding boots and a brown boy's riding jacket over a grey shirt. She had tied a dark handkerchief over the lower part of her face, so you could only see her eyes, and she had a pistol tucked into the belt of her trousers. She looked every inch the highwayman, standing in the shadows of the inn's yard.

'Alex,' she said briskly, as she saw him approach.

'She's in that room,' she said, pointing at a window on the first floor, 'they sedated her before they abducted her, so she's safe for the time being. But we must be quick. They'll move her again before dawn, and if we don't get her out now, we may never have another opportunity.'

'How do you know she is in that room?' Deveraux asked unwisely.

'I was doing this when you were still in leading strings attached to your nursemaid,' she snapped at him. Then she turned to Alex and said, 'would it not be best to send him away, he's a liability.'

Alex, sensing the tension between them, looked at Rachel. 'He may be young, but he is good. And you must admit, we could do with an extra pair of hands.'

Rachel nodded reluctantly. 'I trust you, Alex, but I'm not sure if I trust him,' she said, pointing at Deveraux.

She then examined the wall of the inn. 'I can climb the timber frame and enter the bedchamber through the window,' she said. 'Would you be able to catch her if I dropped her from the window?'

'Yes,' Alex said, 'it's only on the first floor, and it's not that high.'

'Good,' she said as she removed her jacket and gave it to Alex to hold.

'Will she be able to climb that wall?' Deveraux asked doubtfully, 'I don't think that I would be able to do it.'

'Don't worry about Rachel,' Alex said, 'she can look after herself.'

They watched as she quickly and gracefully scaled the wall. Once she was at the window, she took the handkerchief from across her mouth and wrapped her hand around it. She then smashed the pane of glass that was next to the catch and opened the window and easily climbed into the room. Moments later, she was back at the window with Olivia. She carefully swung the girl's legs out of the window and lowered her as far as she could. Alex and Deveraux reached up and took her ankles and Rachel let go of the girl. He felt relief flood through him when Olivia finally fell into his arms. Rachel then climbed out of the window and began to descend the wall of the inn in haste.

'Quickly,' Alex said, once they had crossed the yard and went into the stables. There were two sturdy horses tied up. 'We should borrow these,' he said, as he fetched a bridle from the corner of the stables. 'I'll ride with Olivia and you two can share that nag.'

Deveraux grinned at Rachel as he took another bridle and prepared the horse. 'You can hold onto me,' he said with a twinkle in his eye.

'She's back,' Katie said as she looked out of the window of the drawing-room onto the street below.

It was two o'clock in the morning, and Octavia had been taken to the drawing-room with Flora and Katie to wait for any news. There was little point going to bed, as none of them would get any sleep until they knew Olivia was safe.

As soon as Katie had spoken, Octavia ran to the window and looked out onto the street below. She saw Alex dismounting a horse and carrying a bundle in his arms. 'Olivia,' she cried as she ran down the stairs towards the front door.

'She's been drugged,' Alex said, once he had entered the hallway, 'but she's unharmed. I doubt that she will remember any of this in the morning. Shall I take her to her room?'

Octavia, who had been looking down at her daughter, began to cry with relief. 'She's back,' was all she could say.

Once he had laid her gently on the bed, he turned around to Octavia. 'I'll leave you with her,' he said softly.

'Thank you, Alex,' she said, as she felt the tears welling up in her eyes again, 'thank you.'

He held her briefly in his arms and kissed the top of her head affectionately. 'I have to go out again,' he said, 'but I'll be back later this morning.'

'Take care, Alex,' she said softly, as he left the room.

Once he was gone, she looked down at her daughter, who was still unconscious from the drug they had given her. She guessed, from her inability to rouse her, that it was possibly laudanum. With the help of Miss Sydenham, she undressed Olivia and put on a fresh nightgown. Then she tucked her in bed and kissed her on the forehead.

'I'll stay with her tonight,' she said to Miss Sydenham.

Miss Sydenham nodded and bent over to kiss Olivia on the cheek. 'Very good, my lady,' she said, 'if you need anything, just send for me. I doubt I'll sleep much tonight.'

As Octavia looked down at her daughter, she began to cry. When she had been waiting in the drawing-room with Katie and Flora for news, she had been unable to shed tears. Her mind had been too numb to feel any emotion, except the fear that she would never see her beloved daughter again. When she finally saw Alex, carrying Olivia through the door, she felt fear vanish as relief washed over her. This relief manifested itself in tears, and now she could not stop them. 'Oh, Alex,' she thought to herself, 'I do love you.'

The next morning, Olivia woke up early, feeling very groggy. Fortunately, she remembered very little from the night before. And when she was asked what she remembered from the previous evening, she could only recall the fun she had had with her friend, Sophia. Once Olivia was sitting up in bed, drinking a warm glass of milk that Miss Sydenham had brought her, Octavia went to her own room to get changed. She was still wearing her green silk dress from the night before, and she was looking forward to putting on a fresh change of clothes.

Once she had freshened up, she went downstairs to the breakfast room. Katie stood up as soon as she entered the room. 'Sit down, Octavia,' she said, 'I'll get you some toast and coffee.'

As she nibbled on the toast that Katie had brought her, the door of the breakfast room opened, and Alex and Tyne came through the door. They were both still wearing the clothes that they had worn to the ball last night and they looked exhausted. Tyne signalled for the butler and footman to leave and then sat down at the table.

Flora stood up and poured her husband and Alex a coffee. 'Thank you, my dear,' he said wearily.

Tyne then turned to Octavia. 'You do not have to worry about your brother, he has been dealt with,' he said as he took a sip of coffee, 'and he will not be bothering you again.'

Flora looked at her husband and waited for him to tell them the whole story. When she realised that he was not going to offer her any more information, she took a deep breath. 'What do you mean, he has been dealt with?' she said sharply. 'I hope you are not going to treat us women like fools. Octavia needs to know what has happened to him.'

Alex turned to Octavia and smiled. However, there was a grey pallor to his complexion that worried her. 'After we left here,' he said casually, 'we went to Mrs Hamelin's house in Mount Street, and I challenged your brother to a duel.'

Alex went to lift his coffee cup with his left hand, but instead of taking the handle of the cup, he flinched. 'You are hurt,' Octavia said, standing up.

'It's just a scratch,' he said dismissively, 'it is nothing.'

'You look as white as a sheet,' she said, walking over to him, 'you must come upstairs to my bedchamber, and I will see to it myself.'

As he stood up, she noticed Flora stand up as well, but she was relieved when she saw Tyne put his hand on her arm. 'Flora finish your breakfast with me,' he said quietly, 'Lady Kendall will be able to tend to his wounds,' he said as he continued to drink his coffee.

Once Octavia and Alex had reached her bedchamber, she sent Tillie running downstairs for bandages and hot water. Octavia then helped Alex remove his jacket and shirt without aggravating the wound. 'What happened?' She said as she looked at the nasty gash the bullet had made when it had grazed his upper arm. It had stopped bleeding, but the wound still needed cleaning and bandaging.

Once Tillie had brought the supplies and had left them alone, Octavia removed Alex's shirt and carefully examined the wound. She then dabbed at the nasty looking gash with a damp cloth. 'After I challenged him to a duel, we all went to Sommerville House,' Alex said. 'Freddie agreed to be my second, and Tyne disappeared to get some witnesses and a surgeon. It was over quickly. Your brother shot at me before I had a chance to turn to face him. Fortunately, he had a terrible aim and only grazed my arm. When I stood still and aimed my pistol at him, your brother started to shiver like a true coward. Then I deloped and fired the pistol into the air.'

Octavia listened as she began to wrap a bandage around the clean wound. 'I then told him that if I ever saw his face in England again, he would be a dead man. He should be on the way to the continent by now. At least you will never see him again.'

After she had dressed the wound, she sat next to him on the bed. 'Thank you, Alex,' she said as she took his hand. 'I don't know how I'm ever going to repay you.'

He looked at her and squeezed her hand. 'You don't have to,' he said seriously, 'you saved me from wasting my life on feeling guilty for something that I had no control over. Without you, I would still be that wastrel that turned up at Northleigh.'

She reached up and kissed him gently on the lips. 'Then we are even,' she said, 'I saved you, and you saved Olivia.'

Octavia stood up and went over to the door of her bedchamber and locked it. As she unbuttoned the front of her dress and let it fall to the floor, she could see Alex looking at her.

'What are you doing?' he asked, his voice gravelly.

'Getting ready for bed,' she replied as she walked over to him dressed in her chemise. 'You are going to have to loosen my stays,' she said as she sat next to him on the bed and presented her back to him. 'I've dismissed Tillie, so you'll have to do.'

She felt his finger deftly undo the laces. 'We shouldn't be doing this,' he growled, as he began to kiss her neck as he loosened her stays.

'Why ever not?' she replied as she tipped her head so that he could reach the sensitive skin below her ear. 'We are to be married soon.'

'We should do this properly,' he replied as he slid the soft cotton of her chemise from her shoulders and bared her breasts.

'I don't want to be alone anymore,' she said as she turned to face him. She cupped his cheeks with her hands and looked into his grey eyes. 'Stay,' she said, 'and hold me.'

He looked down at her and smiled. 'How can I refuse,' he said as he bent his head and kissed her.
Epilogue

July 1818

St. Georges Hanover Square

Octavia was standing outside the imposing portico of St. Georges, holding Freddie's arm. Katie and Freddie were the closest people she had to family, and she wanted to give him the honour of walking her down the aisle. It was a warm summer's day, and poor Freddie looked terribly uncomfortable dressed in his formal wedding clothes. As they walked up the steps towards the door, he turned around and looked at her. 'Octavia,' he said, 'I never did thank you for talking to me about Katie. I was being such a self-righteous prig about the whole thing and forgot about the pain that she must have been feeling.'

Octavia looked up at him and smiled. 'It was the very least I could do. I love you both so very much, and I wanted you to be happy.'

'We are,' he said thoughtfully, 'and I never thought we could be happy again after last year. I don't think that Katie fully trusts me yet, but I will prove to her that I am worthy of that trust.'

'Give her time,' Octavia said, 'they do say that time is the great healer.'

As they entered the church, the congregation, who had been chatting animatedly to each other, became silent. As they stood to watch the arrival of the bride, the church was filled with the sound of the organ majestically playing "Arrival of the Queen of Sheba" by Handel. As she walked down the wide aisle, she looked at the congregation that had gathered to witness her marriage. Even though it was the end of the season, the church was packed with members of the _ton_. They all wanted to witness the last event of the season. She saw Katie, who was beaming at her and at the same time, she could see tears rolling down her cheeks. Next to Katie sat Olivia, who smiled broadly at her mother. Octavia winked back at her, and she giggled. Fortunately, she had suffered no aftereffects from her abduction and much to Octavia's relief, she remembered none of that dreadful night.

Charles, who had just returned from Eton, was sitting next to his sister. He had grown up since she had last seen him, and her heart was touched with a tinge of sadness when she realised that he was no longer her little boy. Alex had visited him at school and had asked his permission to marry his mother. Charles had been delighted at the news. He had always liked Alex and was overjoyed at the idea of having him as a stepfather.

She looked at the front of the church, and she saw her future husband standing in front of the altar. Next to him was his brother, who was acting as his best man. Octavia thought that she had never seen him look as handsome as he did that day. He was wearing a blue jacket over a cream and gold brocaded waistcoat and cream trousers with highly polished Hessian boots.

She was wearing a light blue muslin dress, over a cream overskirt. The bodice had been decorated with gold embroidery that matched Alex's waistcoat. She reached the front of the church and was standing by his side. She felt like pinching herself to make sure that this was not a dream.

'You look beautiful,' he whispered as she stood next to him, waiting for the rector to begin the service.

'Thank you,' was all she could reply.

After they had exchanged vows in front of the _ton_ , they were, at last, husband and wife. They then walked out of the church to the rousing sound of the organ. As they walked down the steps, the bells began to peel, and the crowd that had gathered outside during the course of the ceremony started to cheer. They cheered louder as Alex bent down to kiss Octavia lightly on the lips. Rice and rose petals began to shower them as they walked towards the barouche that would bring them back to Huntington House for their wedding breakfast.

Once they were seated in the barouche, Alex put his arm around her waist. To the delight and cheers of the gathered crowd, he kissed her again.

'Are you happy Mrs Falbrook?' he said, as the barouche made its way through the crowd.

'Immensely,' she said, grinning at him. She then began to brush away the stray rice and rose petals that had stuck to her skirts. 'I think some rice has gone down the back of my neck,' she said as she moved her head from side to side.

She leant her head against his chest. 'Alex,' she said, 'I have something to tell you. You know we have talked about the future and the possibility of having a child together.'

'Yes,' he replied, 'yes I do.'

'It may be a little sooner than we planned,' she said, looking up at him with a sheepish grin.

'A child,' he said softly as he put her hand on her lower abdomen.

'Yes,' she replied as his touch sent shivers through her.

'Octavia,' he said, 'this is wonderful news. I have never felt so happy,' he said, kissing her again.

Octavia leant her head against his chest as he took her hand in his. As she sat next to Alex, the future that had once felt bleak, now felt full of hope.

