Page 11 of The Duchess’s Absolutely Delightful Dream (The Notorious Briarwoods #14)

I t was very clear to Ellie that Octavian had no idea what had hit him, and she was enjoying it immensely.

She realized that men like him were quite used to being in charge wherever they went. Oh, yes, it was true that he was a second son, but he was a military commander and a member of the English aristocracy.

When one was the son of an English earl from an extremely powerful and wealthy family, one was accustomed to being at the lead.

And she loved that he seemed to love her taking the lead too.

All of this was because of a single promise.

She’d had no idea that it would be the greatest, wisest, most astonishing promise of her life, and she was really quite amazed to realize what was happening to her.

Him.

He was happening to her.

Octavian was gorgeous, stunning, strong, and capable. He had wandered into her life, and she was not going to let him wander out again.

Hamish had made it very clear to her that she was going to find a great passion, and once she did, she could not let it go.

It might seem mad to some people that she had known Octavian but a little bit of time, had been in his company for almost no time at all, and had come to believe that he was her great passion.

But things like this did not just happen.

Anyone who believed that they did was an utter fool.

How could anyone believe that a man like Octavian would come into her Highland castle without a purpose?

He was the very epitome of what a passionate man should be.

He was perfect for her, and to think differently?

That would simply be her spitting upon the Fates, who had clearly sent her a man at Hamish’s bequest.

Now, yes, she did understand that sometimes it felt quite awkward to think that all of this was the orchestration of her now-deceased husband.

But it really didn’t matter because Hamish had not been her husband per se. Legally, yes, of course he had been, but he had been her best friend. The one who knew her best. From fears to joys, to hopes and dreams, Hamish had known her.

And he had known what she truly needed.

So she would take Hamish’s own urging to heart.

She had found a man she could have a passionate affair with for the rest of her life. And if the Honorable Octavian Newfield did not meet that description, she did not know who would.

She rather enjoyed the way that he was going about their acquaintance with such shock. Now, she would not tell him that he was her grand amour. That might take a bit of time for him to realize, but she knew it in her bones.

Perhaps it was completely illogical. But logic didn’t need to have anything to do with this.

And especially not if one grew up in the Highlands, where magic was everywhere, in every tree, every stone, every river.

And there was always a story to explain said magic, so one didn’t need to believe in logic at all.

No.

One could simply believe in the feelings that came up from the core and into the heart.

And then, of course, that kiss! Their bodies intertwined in the heather!

Well, that kiss had solidified everything. As had their morning by the loch.

Perhaps she was innocent. She did not know much about kissing or intimacy.

She and Hamish had never bothered. Why would they?

They had believed that they had a great deal of time to provide an heir for Hamish’s dukedom. So they had not pushed on that score. Especially since neither of them wished to kiss, let alone…

She shook the thought away.

She knew that Hamish’s family wished that she had had a child, but she and her friend had simply never felt that way about each other.

Octavian? He was something else altogether. When she was with him, she felt completely alive.

She understood desire with him, the feral nature of a creature who had to have what it instinctually required. And somehow she knew instinctually that she required him.

As she wandered down into the drawing room, the sun was setting and the lamps were being lit, and she was alone.

She quite enjoyed it because it gave her an opportunity to muse on how she might best corner the fellow of her interest and get him to do exactly as she pleased, because he was an honorable man.

Honor was all well and good, but honor had to be gotten around in this circumstance.

She didn’t have very long to prove to him what they were meant to be. After all, he was going to have to leave soon. His stay here in the Highlands was temporary.

He didn’t live in Scotland. And from what she understood, he was only in England when the Army allowed it.

She had to act quickly, and she had to act cleverly.

“My dear, you do look as if you are plotting the overthrow of a government. I absolutely love to see such a pensive look upon your face. You also look quite pleased about it.”

She startled and turned at the barrage of words from the Dowager Duchess of Westleigh, who was sitting in the dim light overlooking the open windows.

“My goodness,” she said, stunned that she had not noticed the older lady in the room when she had wandered in. “Is anything amiss?”

“No, I am simply drinking in the beauty of your country,” the dowager duchess said. “I had no idea it looked like this or I would have come years ago.”

“Did no one ever invite you to Scotland?”

“If you can believe it, no. I think it has to do with all the turmoil over the last century.” The dowager wound her bejeweled hands in her lap. “And the fact is that I like London, my dear. I like the idea of living in Scotland, but I never could.”

“Why?” Ellie asked, as she crossed to the dowager duchess.

The dowager smiled wisely. “Because I crave the theater, I crave interaction with society, and here, I think, one has to love the silence of the universe.”

“My goodness, Dowager Duchess,” Ellie said. “The silence of the universe? How profound.”

“Life is too short for anything but profundity,” the dowager duchess returned. “And you must call me Sylvia because I think that you and I are going to be very good friends.”

She blinked, pleased but surprised. “And what would make you say such a thing?”

The dowager winked. “We duchesses, for one, must stick together. And two, my dear, you have an instinct for and an interest in my grandson that I cannot ignore.”

She blushed. She could not help herself.

“Am I so obvious?” she asked, not sure if she should kick herself or be pleased that she did not hide how she truly felt.

“There’s no ignoring it,” the duchess declared. “You want him, and I approve.”

“I’m glad that you do,” she said. “I hope that my family will as well.”

The dowager’s brows rose with surprise. “Do you think they won’t?”

“Och. It is difficult that he’s English. The other side of it is I don’t think Octavian understands yet what I…”

The dowager duchess grinned at her. “No, he doesn’t because he’s a man. It hasn’t even occurred to him yet the way that you’ve changed his life. And I do see it, my dear. You have indeed changed his life. He’s never been interested in anyone like he is in you.”

She found herself growing inordinately pleased at that. “I’m glad to hear it,” she replied honestly. “You see, because I’m on a mission to have a grand, passionate love.”

She waited for the dowager duchess to say something disdainful and bring her back to reality.

Instead, the dowager duchess lifted her hands and began to applaud, her jeweled fingers winking in the dimming light.

“Marvelous, my dear. I applaud your endeavor, and I’m glad to hear that a young lady of such determination will likely join my family.

We’ll have to see what we can do to get Octavian to come around from his silly ideas about never getting married. ”

“What?” she gasped.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” The dowager winced. “I shouldn’t have put it quite like that, but I suppose forewarned is forearmed.”

“I don’t understand,” she said softly.

The dowager sighed. “Octavian has made it very clear that he has no interest in finding a lady to marry him until all the wars are over. And as far as I can tell, the wars are going to go on forever. Gentlemen do seem determined to fight,” the dowager duchess said with a grim sort of acceptance.

“Why?” she blurted, not understanding how people could wish for carnage when the world was so very beautiful.

“In truth, I don’t really know,” the dowager said honestly.

“Perhaps these men weren’t loved. As far as I can see, most men are bullied as children.

Pushed into corners. Told to swallow their feelings, and the only thing applauded is anger.

Not all men yearn for war, of course, but a few of them, the ones who lead the fray?

They are the ones who keep me awake at night.

For those few, with their festering hearts, make graveyards of nations.

And they steal love like an ever-hungry thief.

I wish I could say I understood the nature of man.

The closest I have ever come to truly understanding it is through the plays of William Shakespeare, of course.

He seems to understand mankind better than most.”

“I’ve read all of them.”

“Good.” The dowager smiled, as if glad to turn to other matters than the way a few men lead other men into bloody battle.

“That is a wonderful line of recommendation into the Briarwood family. But I have a funny feeling that if Octavian does marry you, he shall be coming here, to Scotland. And I shall be very sad to lose a great deal of his company.”

She frowned. “Why would you say that?”

The dowager duchess cocked her head to the side. “Because he could be healed here.”

Ellie sucked in a breath. “We are of one mind.”

The dowager duchess’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, are we?”

She nodded. “I can sense it in him, and he’s confessed to me the pain that he’s had over these last years.”

“It is a very good sign that he has shared those feelings with you,” the dowager duchess said, her face creasing with worry over her grandson.

“It has blunted him. It’s been very hard to watch so many of my grandsons go to war.

My children did not have to do that. Who would have thought that I would be spared my children not being scarred in such ways, only to see my grandchildren face such demands.

I think part of me had hoped the world might find a long peace.

What a foolish notion,” she said sadly. “But I had hoped. I will always cling to hope. But I cannot ignore the fact that a sea of troubles besets the world, and I do not know when we shall know calm seas again.”

“That sounds a great deal like Shakespeare,” Ellie observed.

“Much I say sounds a great deal like Shakespeare. I’m always borrowing from him, my dear,” the dowager said. “He is the great teacher of my life. I might even argue I became a duchess because of him. And if you’re going to borrow from someone, he’s the one to borrow from.”

“What about some of the Scottish writers?” she asked.

“I am not familiar with them.”

“I’d be happy to acquaint you.” She went to the shelves, pulled out a book, and handed it to the dowager duchess.

“Thank you. That is very kind,” the dowager said, taking the slim volume.

“I shall read apace. But first we must discuss the play I am putting on to thank your brother, the duke, for our visit. I think I know exactly what I must choose. I will choose a play about finding who you truly are. Perhaps we can inspire Octavian to do the same.”

“Is it not manipulative?” she asked, astonished.

The dowager duchess’s brows rose and she began to laugh.

A deep, rich, rolling sound. “Oh, my dear. Men must be maneuvered. If they were left to their own devices, they would have no idea what was going on about them most of the time. They have very little intelligence when it comes to matters of the heart or love. And right now, Octavian believes the only thing that truly matters is war. So I think that we should turn his mind to love.”

“Does it not feel ill-advised?” she suddenly blurted.

“How so?” the dowager duchess asked.

“I have known him so little, and my own husband died but a year ago, and, well, some might say…”

“Some might say that we should all wear hair shirts, whip ourselves, never be happy, and live in punishment for the rest of our days so that we might have the possible promise of bliss in a life thereafter. Do you find that to be wise?”

Her jaw dropped. She’d never met anyone who spoke thus.

“No,” she replied honestly.

“Good. Don’t follow that sort of wisdom. I’m not interested in wise people like that,” the dowager duchess said, shaking her head. “And I hope you aren’t either. I hope that you are ready to fling yourself into the fray of love. You seem to be, my dear.”

“Och, I am.”

The dowager eyed her carefully, gently even. “You are not burdened with some sort of guilt for your husband?”

“Och, no,” she said quickly. “My husband made me promise that I would never do that. Well, not in those words, but it’s what he meant.”

The dowager nodded, her lips curving into an approving smile. “He was a good man then.”

“The very best, and I was lucky that he was my friend.”

“It seems that you were. I wish I had known him.”

Tears stung her eyes. Sometimes she wished Hamish could still give her advice. “I wish you had too. But he is gone, and I am here, and I know what he would want.”

“And what is that?” the dowager duchess asked.

“He would want me to find love,” she declared, lifting her chin, unafraid before this magnificent older woman, who seemed as wise as the land about them.

Ellie drew in a long breath and proclaimed, “Octavian thinks that this is just a little affair, something to make me happy, but he doesn’t understand. I want so much more than that.”

The dowager stood slowly, crossed to Ellie, and took her hand before urging, “Then don’t stop, my dear, until you get it, because he needs someone like you. He truly does.”