“Of course, my lord,” The butler bowed and walked down the stairs. Once William heard that the door for the servant’s quarters shut, he stepped out from his chamber, but she was already on her way up the staircase.
When she reached the landing and he could make out her face clearly in the dimness, his heart dropped into his stomach.
“Do not,” he hissed clearly.
Octavia stopped, frowning. “William,” she cooed softly. “I apologize for coming so abruptly in the middle of the night.”
“Then why are you here?” he asked. She knew it was wrong and yet she chose to do it anyway. If anyone had seen, he would look like a rake. He didn’t want someone thinking that he would end his courtship only to fill his bed with someone new that same night.
“I need an explanation,” she said.
“An explanation?” he repeated her words with incredulity. “Where wasmyexplanation? What did you have to say for yourself when I discovered you and Owen?”
“You know what I said.” She was right. He did in fact know what she said, but it was not even close to an explanation. He had never remembered feeling so low, then to watch his betrothed braced against a wall, being treated in a way that only William was meant to treat her once they married. It was mortifying. It made shame and anger bubble up in his chest until he was nearly overflowing. It made him feel less then, and even after all of that he still loved her enough to marry her. He would have hated to ruin her reputation. It was not like Owen could marry her. He was just a stableboy. He could not provide for her or bring her any rank at all.
“No. Telling me that you loved him was hardly an explanation. You loved me as well, did you not?”
“Of course I did, my lord,” she plead. “I still do.”
His nose twitched. She had hardly ever called him that in all their time together. It sounded so fake when it came out of her mouth as if she expected him to believe that she was groveling at his feet. When Charlotte had said it, it was different. It had always had this mocking bite to it as if she at least thought he was clever enough to deserve her honesty. They had been equals while Octavia had always been manipulative and seemed to hold herself higher than him in opinion. She had always thought she was better, smarter, and more likable. Maybe she was, but that didn’t mean that William hadn’t deserved to retain some kind of individual opinion.
“So then…” he exhaled, his breath grating, coming out strangled and choked. “Explain to me how you could love me so much that you did not think twice about giving the entirety of yourself to that man.”
She shrugged. “William.” This time her voice was stern, she advanced up the staircase until he was within reach. Her eyebrows tilted in, and her lips pulled back in a disgusted grimace. “I am allowed to have my own needs. Men are not the only creatures in the world withneeds. Ridiculous,” she hissed.
“Make no mistake, Octavia. If you believe that unfaithfulness is aneedof mine, then you do not know me at all.”
“Not unfaithfulness. Do I not deserve to be desired? Do I not deserve to be wanted?”
“I wanted you,” he refuted.
“Not enough. Never. You never even tried to properly have me. I would have given you anything. If ever I did something to hurt you, I hope you realize that it was you who hurt me first.” Her hands were at her sides, balled into fists, her feet braced against the floor as if to stop herself from all but floating away. It was a position she often took up for him; one that said she was strong, capable, and not to be goaded.
William had nothing to respond with. He walked down the staircase, nearly pushing past her to get into the cramped lower-level hallway. He made his way toward the sitting room at the back of the house, that boasted two large windows with two Romeo and Juliet balconies. William made his way, relighting the oil lamps until the room was flickering with candlelight.
There was a thud as Octavia came in and dropped onto the couch, sitting still. William remembered all the times she had come here in the middle of the night, once the watchful eyes of her parents were closed for the evening. Octavia liked to play the piano for him, and he would sing along, only for her. They had had many laughs, many glasses of Madeira wine, and many a kiss.
William was no stranger to wanting her, but every time things began heating up, the passion sort of fizzled. He had always thought that it was simply because he knew better than to ruin her, but if he planned on marrying her then there wasn’t an issue. Once hands began roaming, something terrible surfaced in him like he was disgusted by the thought of her. She was gorgeous, but beneath the surface there was something that unsettled him at times like that.
It hurt when she had said it because he knew that that much was true. He never did want her enough. He cared for her, but long before he could admit that she was manipulative and selfish, his body revolted at the touch of her. He still felt guilty over it.
“You need to leave,” William said. “I am frankly not in any mood for you.”
She reached up and smashed a tear from her eye. “I came here with a purpose,” she said pointedly.
“And what is that?”
“I cannot stand the thought of losing to Lady Charlotte. She is hardly right for you. You must be aware.”
A pause. “I am…aware.”
“Are you? And are you aware that she pushed me to end my pursuit of you?”
“That is fair, considering that I was courting her, is it not?” William gritted his teeth. He had only asked the same of Owen after he discovered him loving his betrothed. Man to man, woman to woman, these matters were important. The only difference here was that Charlotte had no intention of marrying him, so it was admittedly strange that she might have said such a thing.
“She threatened me,” Octavia said. “Despite admitting to me that she did not plan on committing to you. Do you really think she has your best interest in mind?”
“Does it matter?” William asked. “You do not have it in mind either. You never have.” He wasn’t sure if he believed it. It sounded only a little like Charlotte. How could Octavia know that Charlotte had no plans to marry him? She must have indeed spoken to her, or she was just intuitive, which seemed unlikely, as she had never been empathetic enough to understand why William had been hurt by her unfaithfulness.