“Oh… yes,” she said, doing her best not to appear uncomfortable. “Do you have any thoughts of who I might…” She laughed awkwardly. “I am a little unsure of the process.”
“Leave that to me,” her grandmother said with a wink. “I will find you a good man. An honest man. Someone who is worthy of you, I promise.”
It was right there on the tip of her tongue. All she had to do was ask it… mention the Duke… suggest him as a possible match. However, as she went to say it, Octavia was reminded of their conversation last evening, just as she remembered that he had not come to see her off today.
Even if she asked the Duke, she doubted that he would want her. What they had, whatever it was, was gone now, and likely not nearly as special as Octavia had once thought.
“Very well…” She sighed and bowed her head. “I trust you…”
It was not about trust. Octavia had tasted love, she had felt it in her soul and her heart, so she knew that whoever her grandmother picked, no matter how nice a man he was, would not compare to the Duke. How could he?
There was an irony there, Octavia was sure. When she had nothing, she had been happy. Now that she had everything, she was crestfallen. If a middle ground existed, she could not see her way to it. Octavia had wished for everything, and she had finally gotten it… save for the one thing she wanted most of all.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Oh, look at you,” Dorethea said in awe as Octavia arrived at the top of the staircase. Dorethea stood in the foyer, and her mouth fell open when her eyes landed on Octavia. “That gown… your hair! Octavia, you look beautiful.”
Octavia smiled politely as she started down the staircase. “Thank you.”
“And your mother…” Dorethea sniffed and wiped a tear from her eyes. “You look so much like her, dressed up as you are. I can’t help but remember how she looked on her debut. It is like I have gone back in time.”
“I wish I were that young,” Octavia joked.
“It is the same,” Dorethea said. “It was her introduction into high society, just as it is for you too. A more important evening does not exist than this one, and I am pleased to say that you look every inch the part.”
The compliments were kind and generous, and Octavia accepted them graciously because she knew that her grandmother was speaking her own truth. No doubt, the elderly woman believed that tonight was as important as she said, just as she believed that Octavia was worth the praise that she lavished upon her.
Indeed, the gown that Octavia wore was deep emerald, embedded with sparkling diamonds, hemmed with silver stitching that transformed to light green as it wound up her gown like vines climbing a tree. It was tight-fitting, the type that hugged her waist and her legs, that pronounced her curves, and that left little to the imagination. Even the neckline, while running diagonally across her chest, not too low either, accentuated her bust so that Octavia felt like she might spill out.
And while Octavia appreciated the gown that her grandmother bought for her, just as she appreciated the kind words, she could not help but lament that the only person who she wanted to see her in this dress was not here.
I can’t help but remember the last time I wore a gown like this one…
Her mind drifted back to the night of the Opera. She remembered when she had appeared at the top of the staircase. She could see clearly the look on the Duke’s face as he took her in; the infatuation, the sheer desire that poured from his eyes was unmissable. That had been the night when Octavia began to understand the Duke’s feelings for her… misconstrued as pure lust at the time, since realized to be so much more.
No… there was never more there than lust and passion. I thought for a time that there might be, that he and I… it does not matter. I was wrong about him, as hard as that is to admit.
“Shall we?” Dorethea offered her arm to Octavia.
“Thank you again, Dorethea,” Octavia said as she took her grandmother’s arm. “For everything that you have –”
“Enough of that,” her grandmother waved her down as they started toward the door. The footman there opened it wide, and Octavia noticed the way his eyes roamed over her body. “As I have told you time and again, it is I who should be thanking you. You have no idea how hard I have worked toward this moment… and how often I doubted it would ever arrive.”
“Still…” Octavia blushed a little, as she felt terribly awkward when Dorethea spoke this way, as if she was worried that she would fail to live up to the woman’s expectations. “You have been so good to Henry and I.”
“And it is only the beginning,” she said with a firm nod. “One week in and you have yet to taste what this life will afford you. Tonight, this…” She gestured toward the carriage that waited for them. “Oh, girl, just you wait and see.”
It was a sentiment that her grandmother had repeated often this past week. How much Octavia’s life was set to change. How perfect everything would be from now on. And how Octavia and Henry both deserved it, a life where they would want fornothing, and where everything they might dream was theirs for the taking.
If that is true, why do I still feel so… so lost.
There was just the one thing that Octavia wanted, and it was the exact thing that she could not have.
Worse too, tonight was to be her first Societal Ball, her ‘debut’ as her grandmother was calling it. All week, Dorethea had spoken about the importance of tonight, constantly reminding Octavia that its purpose was to begin the courting process, as was right for someone of her class and status.
Dorethea only wanted what was best… she was doing what she thought right… and while Octavia was desperate to tell her that she did not want to marry any old lord, that this was the last thing she wished from her life, she simply could not bring herself to do so.
The Duke was no longer an option. Octavia now had a life of responsibility before her. Had she not said so many times that she would do anything she could to give her brother the life he deserved? And herself, for that matter. It was time now for her to prove it so.