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“Survival.” His body vibrated from within, and he snarled. “The be-all and end-all ofversipellis. Those at the top, predators and princes alike, would do anything to ensure the family names carry on. Or would have done in the past. Parents who were predators strove to ensure the lines did not mix, that lamb did not lie with lion, and yes, they may, in their human forms. You know of Lady Phoebe Blakesley?”
“I do, of course. She escaped my fate thanks to the intervention of her brother, the Duke of Lowell.”
“Her parents arranged the marriage so the Castleton name, revered in wolf lineage, would not cease to exist. It takes quite a lot for a Shifter to die of natural causes, and his lineage had been corrupted, ironically enough, by holding to the old laws and eschewing to mate outside their species. His bloodlines were so pure that he was quite mad.”
“This is very like the villain inThe Beastly Baron Bardolph.”
“Should you ever meet Mrs. Anchoretta Asquith, you may like to give thought to her characteristics.” He managed a cheeky grin.
That was news. “I shall hint as much to the Duchess of Lowell, who would be keen to know.”
His smile winked out. “You should not have been wed to him,” he said, stroking her fingers over and over. “Georgie should have intervened.”
“He was not apprised as he ought to have been, I suspect.” The prince had not been present at the ceremony, which had been conducted with both pomp and haste. “In any case,” Beatrice continued, “I shudder to think of you as a little boy rushing to defend your pack or clan or what have you. Why was the king not present at this challenge? Are these not matters of state when a title is involved?”
“You are clever,” Osborn said. “There was no time to summon him due to the ambush, nor do I believe he would have come. George’s father has ever been one to cling to the old ways. Had he been present, it would not have been out of place for him to fight in my father’s stead, as the Alpha of all Alphas. We were not important enough to defend.”
“Georgie does not think so.”
“Despite his antiquated approach to our union, he welcomes reformation that does not directly threaten his power.”
“Would he fight in your stead did it come to it?”
“There is no threat. The usurper did not succeed in gaining our clan because it dissolved, the women and children fled, he did not mate, did not multiply. His life is likely over, for if an Alpha does not bring in children in due course, he does not survive. His rights to this place are gone.”
“Thus, does it not revert to you?”
“It is…complicated.” He nuzzled her palm. “I have said more than I thought I would say and would leave it at this. For now,” he assured her. He ran his hand farther up, to her wrist, closed his fingers gently around it. “You relieve me of my secrets without the slightest exertion.” He peeped up at her, his eyes solely brown again, a brown like the burnt sugar on her favorite ginger biscuits. She watched as he licked his lips, as his opposite hand cupped her cheek, as he leaned in with the intent to kiss her.
She shook her head. “Please do not.”
“Madam, I cannot give you a child out of the mere thought of a child. I find this aspect of coupling to be enjoyable.”
“It is not my experience that kissing has anything to do with it.”
“Is that so?” His creature flared in his gaze once more, glowing and fierce, no trace of melancholy now. Beatrice reached out and finally allowed herself to tend to that errant curl. It was soft and thick, but she could not get the picture out of her mind, of a small Arthur charging into the vicious melee that resulted in his father’s death.
“I find that I cannot welcome your husbandly attention this evening.”
“I ought not to have said anything.” He made to get up, and she stopped him. Stopped him only as he allowed it.
“Arthur.” He looked at her, truly looked at her, without the wry annoyance he greeted her with at first, without the brooding obstinacy her schedule inspired. He looked at her openly, those big brown eyes sparkling with hints of an otherworldly golden hue. They were so close to one another, she was bracketed by his thighs, and her knees were very near the placket of his trousers. His hands had somehow come around her back, and how was it that her fingers were twined in that curl? Beatrice caressed its thickness, so soft, and her heart turned in her chest like a kitten before a fire.
***
If she knew how his entire body was inflamed by the tentative petting at his hair, she would cease in a heartbeat. Arthur wished he could kiss her, as much as he wished he could cross over to the afterlife and tear Castleton limb from limb. How dared that wolf treat the gift he was given with such disdain?
How darehedo so?
“Arthur,” Madam began again, “from a young age, almost as young as you were yourself, I was, on the one hand, made to manage my unmanageable brothers and by extension the entire household, barring directly telling the servants what to do. I was to inform my mother what was required, and she carried out my directives. The servants knew this was the case and thus did not trust me. It was unpleasant to be treated so.”
“You were only a child.” Ah, his foot in a trap, hidden with cunning.
“I was only a child,” she agreed. “Nevertheless, as I grew in years, I was then informed I was not permitted to increase my authority in that house, that it was not my place, though my work was in aid of those who flourished there. I ought to prepare myself for a household of my own, as a wife. So I did, with the view of taking what I’d learned and what I wished to correct into my own home.”
“And found yourself in no such place.” How had their foreheads come to be touching?
“In no such place indeed.” Madam ran a finger over his knee, and he thought he might combust with desire. “I found myself in a place in which the lord and master turned into a raging beast at the merest provocation.” She related to him the first instance of her knowledge, and his desire turned to revenge. Too little, too late. “I promised myself I would never wed again.”
