A Season for Honour

Chapter 1

September 1817

'Octavia,' Lady Sommerville said firmly, 'Charles needs a tutor.'

'I know, Katie,' Octavia Sorrell, the Countess of Kendall, said as she sighed loudly in agreement with her old friend. 'He is already ten years old, and next year I will have to send him, with the greatest reluctance, to Eton. And I am fully aware of how woefully unprepared he is for school.'

Octavia was sitting in the drawing-room of her best friend Lady Katherine Sommerville. The two women had known each other since they had met at the Hillcroft Seminary for Young Ladies, but they had lost touch for nearly ten years after Octavia had left school unexpectedly to marry the 6th Earl of Kendal. 'Octavia,' Katie said with a sigh, 'why did you just dismiss the curate, Mr Dowle? Freddie said that he was terribly intelligent and eminently qualified to teach Charles. He did get a first in Theology at Oxford,' Katie said, leaning back in her chair.

'Obviously, they do not teach manners at Oxford,' Octavia said primly, 'I think he is a churlish man, and on top of that, he is also a disagreeable bully.'

'Oh dear,' Katie said, looking concerned, 'I know he comes across as a bit of a bore, but he is surely not that bad!'

'Katie,' Octavia said, looking at her friend seriously, 'I could put up with him in my house if being a bore was his only problem. Unfortunately, he has far more serious character flaws than just that.'

'I am afraid that Freddie will be furious,' Katie replied, furrowing her brow, 'Mr Dowle was the only tutor he could find that did not live miles away.'

'I know he sounded suitable in every way. He lives in the village and has excellent qualifications. Everything about him sounded perfect. However, I have discovered that he is not suitable to tutor Charles,' Octavia said, leaning forward and patting her old friend's hand. 'Anyway,' she said with a bright smile, 'I cannot imagine Freddie furious. A little annoyed maybe, but never furious.'

'Does he know?' Katie asked, leaning back in her chair once more.

'No, not yet,' Octavia said, sighing once more. 'But I suppose it will only be a matter of time before Mr Dowle tells him what happened this morning.'

'I suppose that Freddie can tutor Charles,' Katie said, furrowing her brow in contemplation. 'Yes,' she said after she had given it some extra thought, 'I think that would be an excellent idea. He could go to Northleigh every morning and give Charles his lessons.'

'Absolutely not!' Octavia replied forcefully.

'Why ever not?' Katie said, looking a little hurt at Octavia's forceful reply.

'Katie,' Octavia said gently, leaning towards her friend and patting her on the arm, 'I will not have Freddie feeling obliged to come all the way to Northleigh every day. I do not want him to wear himself out on my account.'

'And, how am I going to wear myself out?' The cheerful voice of Sir Frederick Sommerville said from the door of the drawing room.

'Oh, Freddie,' Katie said, as she slowly stood up and walked over to her husband a little unsteadily.

Octavia saw how Katie's eyes lit up when Freddie crossed the room, with his hands outstretched towards his wife. How wonderful it must be, she thought to herself, to be in love. And to be the sole object of someone's affections and desires. There had been no love or affection in her marriage to Lord Kendall, and she had lost hope that she would ever find that feeling of intimacy that her friends apparently shared. Octavia then felt a twinge of guilt as she remembered her two children, Charles and Olivia. Of course, she loved them. She loved them dearly and would do anything to protect them from harm. But she knew that the intense protective mother's love she had for her children, was different from the physical desire she saw in Freddie and Katie's eyes. Why was the English word for love woefully inadequate, she thought to herself? Why could there not be more than one word to describe that unusually diverse emotion?