Page 19 of Managing the Major

With an effort, she remembered the business at hand and collected her befuddled thoughts. “Major Fairfax, there are several eligible gentlemen present tonight who would make excellent prospects for your niece. Would you like me to point them out? If any look pleasing—”

“I’d rather speak of camellias, Miss Merrick,” he said, his eyes fixed on her mouth. Without thinking, she bit her bottom lip nervously. “They flourish in my garden at my estate near Lewisham. In just a few weeks, the scent will fill the air.”

Octavia unfurled her fan again, waving the delicate web of lace and pearls back and forth. “Is your garden another hobby, Major Fairfax? Isn’t it unusual for a soldier to follow classical literature and to take an interest in gardening?”

“Some soldiers, perhaps, but I came from a home where both were encouraged. You question my pursuits, Miss Merrick, but your interest in horses is unusual for a woman.”

“You obviously lack an education of women living in the present time, Major Fairfax,” she replied tartly. “Perhaps our acquaintance will modernize your thinking.”

“Oh, I hope so. I would enjoy your efforts to educate me, Miss Merrick.”

Heat suffused her body, but it wasn’t anger at his provocative words that caused her breasts to throb, and the peaks to tighten against her silk bodice. As she fought to suppress some very inappropriate images, Octavia snapped her fan shut. “I see Sir William has joined us. Does Mrs. Croyden enjoy his company? He is a charming gentleman, and very well settled, you know.”

A smile played about the major’s lips, and Octavia couldn’t decide if her attempt to connect his sister with Sir William had been too obvious, or if he guessed his effect on her traitorous senses. Thank goodness, their hostess stepped onto the dais to address the gathering.

“How happy I am to see everyone tonight,” Lady Jersey announced as people quieted. She glittered in a viridian gown and emerald jewelry. Octavia liked Lady Sally, who often visited to offer advice on a variety of subjects, most of it unsolicited. She was very outspoken and had a soft spot for the Merrick family.

“Without further delay, let us begin. The Countess of Seldon has promised her selection will include a composition of her own.”

As Fiona started the playful introduction to Mr. Mendelssohn’s overture, Octavia’s attention wandered once more to Mrs. Croyden and Sir William, who made a handsome pair indeed. She congratulated herself on a job well done. Now, to put things back on course and engage Major Fairfax’s support for her matchmaking efforts. The happiness of Mrs. and Miss Croyden depended on her success.

Octavia focused her attention on the music and resolved to steel herself against Major Fairfax and his obvious intention to start a flirtation. Gazing upon the major’s thighs, no matter how muscular, had no part in finding suitable matches for his sister and niece. Once she had tied their futures neatly with a bow and handed him the package, he would see who was frivolous.

Chapter Nine

The Musicale Concludes

Fiona held the last chord of her nocturne en rallentando and applause echoed in the ballroom. Octavia knew enough to recognize that the piece was complex in harmonies and marked with her sister-in-law’s hallmark of rich ornamentation.

As she clapped with the others, Major Fairfax leaned close and whispered, “The countess has an extraordinary gift.”

The low baritone against her ear and drift of his masculine scent played havoc with her senses. Octavia managed a smile and opened the program. Goodness, were her toes curling?

The six performers who followed Fiona varied in skill, some good, others simply mediocre. Still, it was a pleasant way to spend an evening. Occasionally she glanced at Major Fairfax, who listened attentively to the selection.

When the last singer, a pretty soprano, finished her aria from La Cenerentola, Octavia waited for the crowd to disperse and watched Richard stand protectively near his wife, occasionally glancing down with pride and affection as many of the guests came over to congratulate Fiona.

Octavia’s older sister, Valentina, also married for love, and some said that the Merrick family had made romance fashionable again. She wondered if her refusal to wed had less to do with retaining freedom and more to do with a fear of meeting the standards set by her family. She was so different from most women—strong-willed, temperamental, and easily bored. What man would tolerate an independent wife who often spoke her mind?

Mrs. Croyden and her daughter were deep in discussion with Sir William, no doubt airing opinions about the concert. The major stood next to them, also observing Richard and Fiona.

“You look uneasy, dear. Is something wrong?”

“I have the beginning of a headache, that’s all, Mama.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. Her sudden doubts were unsettling.

Lady Amelia looked concerned, no doubt thinking of the intense migraines that had plagued her son in his twenties and early thirties.

“It’s not like Richard’s, I promise. I’ve been busy since the ball, and though it was so good to see Valentina this morning, I can’t help having concerns about her health.”

“The doctor says she is doing much better. And though he doesn’t want her taking a coach anywhere until after the baby’s birth, we’re welcome to visit as often as we like. I was thinking of inviting myself to dinner on Monday. We’ll ask Richard and Fiona to come. Would you like that?”

“Very much so. Here comes Fiona now. Didn’t she play beautifully, Mama?”

“She certainly did. Perhaps you can give her my congratulations and ask about Monday. It looks like Mrs. and Miss Croyden are leaving, and I wish to say goodnight before they go.” With a swish of skirts, Lady Amelia headed that way.

“Where did your mother rush off to?” Fiona embraced Octavia, wafting lilies of the valley; it was Richard’s favorite scent and one she often wore.

“To say goodbye to the Croydens. We both thought you were wonderful tonight.”