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“I must see to the grounds,” said Osborn. “I shall join you anon.”
***
“Anon” proved to be nearly an hour. Beatrice was in her habitual place, the chair at the window, as the stillroom door opened.
“Ah, Your Grace.” She looked him over.
He looked down. There was nothing to see there; he was buttoned up for once.
“Not the stoat, then,” she said.
“A stoat? Madam, you wound me.” Osborn lay a hand on his heart in a melodramatic manner. “If you knew how to spot the telltale signs of averispellis’s essential self, you would hesitate to compare me to a stoat.”
“Let us see…” She leaned back in her chair and let her gaze run over him, up and down, lingering in a few places, which had a discernible effect on his composure. “Well blessed in regard to hair. Of greater height than many. Larger in general than most men, and most of your kind, I suspect.” She dwelt on his arms, and they did that thing again, that twitching. How tempting it was to ask him to remove his coat and turn around so she may get a look at every inch of him.
Never mind his composure, hers was well rattled now. “I have seen you neither move at speed nor swim, so I know not if you be a greyhound or a salmon.”
He smiled, smug. “One’s essence may be alluded to. For example, Charlotte spoke rather loosely at the meal.”
“Regarding Lady Coleman?” She recalled the odd use of language: quail, swift…ah. “I understand. It would not be well done of me to spread this knowledge, would it?”
“As you say.” Osborn stood before her dressing table and touched her comb. “In society I often passed the time wondering what sort of animal a human might make.”
“In between cultivating youron-dits.” Beatrice watched his fingers trace over the back of her brush, swirl in her pot of hairpins.
“During, as I spent so much time with tabbies and dragons and ape leaders.” He cocked his head. “And so I have wondered about you.” He returned the appraisal to which she had treated him. His gaze was like a brand running over her skin. “A pullet. A pigeon. Or so I thought, that night at the ball. And then I became acquainted with your spirit, your virtual claws like those of an eagle, the perception that would not be misplaced in a hawk.”
She exulted in being likened to a bird of prey. And yet: “An uncomfortable companion.”
“Far from it. One who would be trusted to see what I could not.”
“How unfortunate then I am not one of you.”
He pulled over the stool from the dressing table, a pink tufted thing made ridiculously adorable by his bulk as he lowered to sit. “Madam, if anyone could will themselves to change their skins, it would be you.”
“I am gratified, Your Grace.”
“Are you? I am well aware you only address me as such when you are displeased with me.”
That godforsaken curl flopped onto his forehead. Beatrice resisted it as always, wondered what it would be like to indulge in tucking it aside. “It is not so much displeasure as it is deep respect and a compliment for your ducal dignity.”
“And yet you have just now presented that compliment to me left-handed.” He leaned forward and took said hand. “I know very well how you proffer your respect.” He ran his fingers down her own, to the very tips and back. He held it against his, palm to palm, regarding it with concentration. Hers was so small in comparison to his as to be like a child’s—
“My father was killed when I was young,” he blurted. “Mum had been murdered by trophy hunters, taken from us, and his grief was like to destroy him. He was challenged in the old way by a Shifter from the Nordic countries called Hallbjorn who wanted a stake in England and would take it by force. He had been lurking in the vicinity for months yet came out of nowhere. I was not old enough for the Change, and I could do nothing.”
This explained the state of the Alpha’s study then, its occupant having left in haste to protect his family. “How young?”
“I had not attained the age of reason.”
“Younger than seven, then.”
“By a bare six months.” Something about that made him laugh. She saw his eyes flash, presumably showing those of his other self, molten gold, fiery yet melancholy.
“And would you have been able to aid your father’s cause, that young?”
“I would have tried.” He ducked his head to hide his bright gaze.
“And not survived, I imagine.”
