A Closed Heart by Oster, Camille (guided reading books TXT) 📗

for the world being imperfect—and that included the people in it.

A harder truth and practice to live by than one would expect.

Chapter 13

“BUGGER,” JULIUS SWORE AS he dropped Octavia’s letter on the desk. They were descending. All of them. It was because she was here. There was no other reason they would be coming now.

For what purpose were they coming? Was this some fear he would be abusing the girl, having her in tears every day? Really, Jane Brightly was a much tougher woman than either of them expected, he would guess.

Some notice would be nice. Unfortunately, when Octavia and Eliza got together, they would get ideas and it was crucial to carry them through immediately. They both had families. It would do them no harm to learn a little forward planning.

Mere hours later, a carriage was seen coming down the lane leading to the house. Family was descending and Julius wasn’t excited about it.

Something in him felt defensive, but he wasn’t sure why. It had something to do with Jane being here, as if he’d be judged on how he treated her. And he would be. Judging him had always been Octavia’s favorite sport, and that likely hadn’t changed now. It certainly wasn’t that he’d in any way treated Jane badly, but no matter what he did, he’d be accused of not embracing her correctly.

It wasn’t as if Octavia was friends with Jane, although Eliza seemed to be. With his new view on Jane, he wondered what it was that Eliza liked about her. Was it her usual path in life, or her strong opinions? In the time he’d known Eliza, she’d changed significantly. She’d become stronger and more rounded. When she’d first married Caius, she’d been a very typical well-bred young woman from a good family, but as her marriage had disintegrated, she’d had to change, to become strong.

The curious thing about Jane was that she’d chosen her path in life. There had been another option, but she preferred the harder and riskier route. But passion had its inherent payoff—one Jane saw as worth paying the price for.

Julius couldn’t imagine giving up his title and position for a passion—or his responsibility. For him, it would be utterly irresponsible. The mantle of the family was on his shoulders, and he would be judged by all who went before him, and all those who’d come after. Jane didn’t have that. There were no expectations on her. She was free to pursue a life she chose.

There were tradeoffs for everyone. What he did know was his own course, and he always had. It had been something he’d had in common with his father, that his siblings hadn’t. He was to be Lord Hennington, while they weren’t. He was the guardian of their heritage.

The carriage was pulling up in front of the main entrance and Julius went to greet her. The driver was helping Octavia down.

“Oh, wonderful. You brought the children,” he said tersely.

“Your son could use some time to play with his cousins, Julius,” Octavia said tartly. “And thank you for the heartfelt welcome.”

“I should hardly have to welcome you to where you grew up.”

Octavia turned and put down the child she was carrying. “Jasper, out of the carriage,” she ordered and the young boy’s head appeared. “The whole trip he wanted to get out and now he won’t come. I swear I don’t understand the minds of five-year-olds.”

Leaning closer, Julius kissed his sister on the cheek. “Tiring journey, I take it?”

“Yes. Eliza’s not far behind.”

“I take it she’s bringing her children too.”

“Of course.”

Oh good, there would be more children than adults in the house. That was always something to look forward to. The other important question he held himself back from asking—how long were they staying?

“Is that painter here?” Octavia asked as she walked into the house.

“She is.”

“So you went ahead with it. You’re so vain, Julius.”

Gritting his teeth, he refused to respond to the quip, because he knew she’d want him to. There were perfectly reasonable grounds for having this portrait done, and if she didn’t see that, it was her shortsightedness. And how could one argue with shortsightedness?

“You better be treating her well, or Eliza will have your guts for garters.”

“Why would anyone assume I would treat a guest shabbily?” he said with an eyeroll.

“I gave up understanding why you do anything years ago,” Octavia replied airily.

“How is married life?” he asked as they walked into the salon and sat down. The young child was put down and she walked around unsteadily. Was Octavia just going to let her wander?

“It is wonderful,” she said. “You should divorce that cow and remarry.”

This was a topic of conversation they had been going over again and again, and Julius wasn’t in the mood. And for the record, he didn’t believe Octavia and Finn were as joyously happy as they made out, because that would just be unnatural.

“So where is she?” Octavia asked.

“I have her chained up in the dungeon.”

For a moment, Octavia had to check the veracity of what she heard, because they actually had what could be considered a dungeon from the time before Denham Hall was a family residence—the older part of the building.

“I do hope you haven’t made her time too onerous.”

“I’m the one who must sit for hours on end.”

“Well, you chose to do it, so don’t fish for sympathy now.”

“I’m not.” Truly, he didn’t miss this sparring between them. It was as though they reverted to children the moment they saw each other.

“I do miss Father.”

It was true that they didn’t quite know how to deal with each other now that he was gone. It was as if their roles were now questioned. Initially, he’d caught glimpses of his father’s presence through something the man had