Page 67 of The Storybook Hero
“Of course they are. But they will have a great many other obligations, for Mr. Leigh’s family is very important?—”
“And we are not?”
How was she to answer that? wondered Octavia. She drew a deep breath. “It is not as simple as that,” she began. “I, that is, they….” There was an awkward pause while she searched for some way to explain what she meant. “They must begin a new chapter in their lives.”
“And we are not part of it?”
“No, we are not,” she said bluntly. “Emma, dear Mrs. Radcliffe may use artistic license to create all manner of trials and tribulations for her characters, and then blithely pen them a happy ending. It makes for entertaining fiction, but unfortunately real life does not often follow such a perfect plot.”
Emma kept her gaze locked on the swirling currents, but the tilt of her profile did not quite hide the quivering of her lips. “I think I understand what you mean.” She gave an exaggerated shrug of her shoulders. “Anyway, boys are nothing but a nuisance.”
Amen to that, thought Octavia to herself as she slipped her arm around the girl’s waist. “That’s right,” she said with a forced laugh. “Nothing but a nuisance. We are much better off without them, aren’t we?”
“Right.”
Tactfully ignoring the small sniff that followed the girl’s reply, Octavia leaned down to pick up the valise by her side. “Mr. Twilling was able to locate a copy ofThe Castle of Otranto. Perhaps you would like to go below and have a look at it. I believe you will like it, even though the author is a man”
“If you don’t mind, I think I will just lie down for a bit,” answered Emma in a small voice. “It has been an awfully busy day and I find I am not much in the mood for reading at the moment.”
Sixteen
The cries of the circling gulls mingled with the snap of the riggings and oaths of the stevedores as the elegant barouche approached the bustling wharves. Alex shifted against the soft leather squabs of his brother’s carriage, feeling his stomach take a decidedly seasick lurch at the prospect of the coming meeting.
Unlike the male members of the family, his sisters-in-law had not been fooled in the least by his prevarications. His halting explanation of wishing to find a suitable position for Octavia had been met with raised brows and the withering scorn it deserved. He was naught but a craven coward, they had exclaimed in short order. Not for any lack of physical courage, but for being afraid to admit what was patently obvious to any observer with a grain of common sense.
He was clearly in love with the lady, they had announced, And added that he would be the biggest idiot between the Thames and the Volga if he didn’t acknowledge it and do whatever it took to win her heart.
Begging and groveling were among the first suggestions.
For some reason that eluded him, they seemed to think he had a chance of success.
In the face of such formidable forces, his defenses had quickly crumbled. But rather than engendering any sense of defeat, the admission of his feeling had been more liberating than he had ever imagined. Freed from the shackles of the past, he dared hope
for the future.
Hope, however, seemed a dim prospect when he considered the obstacles in his path. With a sigh, he had said as much.
From there, his family had sprung into action with dizzying efficiency. The earl had used his considerable influence with the government to learn on which vessel Octavia and Emma had set sail, while his brothers had pulled all manner of strings to help him deal with a number of important matters in Town. In the meantime, the ladies had passed the days preparing Wright House for additional guests, as well as spending considerable time behind closed doors making arrangements they refused to discuss with the gentlemen.
Frequent updates from the Admiralty on the progress of the ships and their naval escort kept them alerted as to when the convoy was expected to tie up at the Greenwich wharves. Even now, as Alex craned his neck to peer out of the paned window, he could see a billow of white canvas ghosting in with the current. Swallowing a gulp, he turned to the other occupant of the carriage and forced a show of nonchalance. “Well, Nicholas, it looks as though they will soon be here.”
The boy’s nose pressed up against the glass too, his nervous anticipation not nearly as well hidden. “Oh!” he exclaimed. “I can hardly wait to … to find out what will happen to Emily and Valancourt.”
Alex gave a low chuckle in spite of his own overwrought nerves. “I should have thought you would have finished that book long ago.”
Nicholas squirmed in his seat, causing the corner of a much worn leather binding of the book to peek out from the folds of his coat. “I—I did not think it right to go on without Emma,” he replied in a hesitant voice. “Perhaps you think me—how do the English say it—less of a man for caring about the opinion of a mere girl, but….”
He reached over to ruffle the boy’s hair. “On the contrary, lad. Loyalty to one’s friends is one of the most important qualities of a true gentleman. And Emma has shown herself to be more than worthy of your esteem, regardless of her skirts and braids.”
A sudden jolt of the wheels indicated that the horses had pulled to a halt. Sucking in a deep breath, his hand groped for the door latch. “I think it best if you wait here to greet Emma while I have a few words in private with Miss Hadley. There are, er, a number of things that the two of us need to discuss regarding … plans.”
Nicholas regarded him with owlish intensity, then gave a solemn nod.
Offering a silent prayer to the heavens, Alex turned up the collar of his coat, stepped down to the muddy cobblestones and pushed his way through a bevy of swearing sailors trying to wrestle a load of salt beef off of a nearby wagon. It took some time before the heavy hull of the merchant ship was maneuvered into place alongside the barnacled pilings and the thick hawsers snugged around the iron stanchions.
His pacing grew more impatient as it seemed to take an age for the gangplanks to be set in place. Finally, after a line of officers had descended from the quarterdeck, he spotted two females, half hidden by the tarred shrouds, their familiar profiles silhouetted against the scudding grey clouds.
They disappeared among the jostling of the other passengers seeking to disembark, then were visible again just as theystepped onto dry land. Alex hung back, waiting for them to move away from the milling crowd. Even at that distance, he could recognize the tilt of Octavia’s chin and the determined set of her slender shoulders. He even imagined he could see the exact shade of her eyes, and how they were alight with….
