Read Online In Your Arms Again by Kathryn Smith - Free Book Online Page A

sweeter and much more ladylike than her own. Her cousin remembered to thank the earl for taking them to Eden—a task that should have been Octavia’s.
    Heaven save her from agreeable people. She was spoiling for a fight, and there was no one who could give her one—no one who could match her and not leave her feeling terribly remorseful for tearing them apart when it was done.
    Beatrice, God bless her, would give it a go, however. She waited until the butler had relieved both of them of their outerwear, and then followed on Octavia’s heels, through the hall, to the stairs where she gave chase, finally catching up at the top.
    “What in heaven’s name is the matter with you?” she demanded in little more than a whisper as they neared Octavia’s bedchamber.
    “I have no idea what you mean.” Deliberately obtuse, Octavia stripped off her gloves and tossed them on the carved oak chest at the foot of her bed. The lamps on the night tables were lit, the crystal shades sparkling prettily. The amber brocade coverlet was turned down, revealing soft sheets. Soon she would crawl between their lemon-scented freshness and forget all about this evening, waking up in the morning with abetter attitude than the one she had now. All she had to do was ring for her maid.
    And get rid of her cousin.
    “I mean your behavior toward Lord Spinton.” Beatrice might be timid in public, but alone with Octavia, she showed some of the spirit she kept hidden. “One would think you were trying to goad him.”
    Octavia plucked the pearl drops from her ears and tossed them onto her dressing table. “Would one?”
    “Yes,” her cousin replied, oblivious to her sarcasm. “I would think you would be a bit more civil in your addresses to him. He is your betrothed after all.”
    “Not yet.” Strands of pearls landed near the earrings. Wasn’t that what she had told North? That Spinton wasn’t her fiancé yet . As if it actually made a difference.
    “You say it as though there is a chance you might not marry him.”
    Was it her imagination, or was there a trace of hopefulness in Beatrice’s tone?
    Pulling the cord to summon her maid, Octavia shrugged. “I have not yet given him my answer.”
    Her cousins hands went to the fullness of her hips. How Octavia envied that tiny, round body of hers. “Do you not think perhaps you should give it to him? He will not wait forever, despite his promises. You are thirty years of age. Your chances of producing an heir grow slimmer, as do your chances of contracting a good marriage at all.”
    Octavia graced her cousin with a cool smile. “Perhaps I am merely less concerned with marriage than you are.” That was low. Even for her. None of this was Beatrice’s fault, but she was so damned tired of being told what she should do. What about what she wanted ?
    Beatrice’s bow lips pursed. “And now you are trying to goad me. Why?”
    Sighing, Octavia rubbed the heel of her hand against her forehead. “Forgive me, Bea. I am in a foul temper this evening. I should not take it out on you.”
    Her cousin’s rigid stance relaxed somewhat. “You were fine at the club before we separated. What happened?”
    There was no reason to conceal it. Beatrice already knew about her past. She had been Octavia’s companion and confidante for years, and her loyalty to Spinton couldn’t compare with her loyalty to Octavia herself.
    “I saw North.”
    Beatrice’s dark eyes widened into saucers. “Did you speak to him?”
    Octavia nodded. “I did. It was as though only twelve days had passed rather than as many years.”
    All of the tension seemed to have drained from them both. Beatrice was solely focused on her cousin’s well-being, and Octavia’s peevishness disappeared once she revealed the origin of it—not that North was to blame. No, she could blame only herself for her behavior.
    “Come sit and tell me about it.” Beatrice seated herself on the thick softness of the bed and patted a spot beside