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“I shall do so.” Osborn’s Second snatched the paper out of the lady’s hand. She commenced reading it aloud, in a tone one reserved for reading a shopping list for the mercer. “My dearest brother Timothy, I find I cannot accept the attentions of His Grace the Duke of Llewellyn and must flee. I shall take ship to the Antipodes, for his passions overwhelm me so—I cannot fly far enough away. Do not think to follow me, as I will be beyond your reach by the time you read this. Sincerely, your sister, Tabitha Barrington.”
“How strange that she would write such a formal note,” Mr. Barrington observed.
The lady author shouted, “We must act, this is nonsense!” Alwyn made to spring from his concealment, and his lion held him back, surging into his aura with sufficient strength that Osborn and Lowell looked around for the threat.
Patience, friend, his lion cautioned.We shall receive our cue.
“If Miss Barrington were to take ship for Australia,” Mr. Peasley offered, “she would have left yesterday, and we were only consulting with her this afternoon.”
“Miss Barrington shared our midday meal and offered us some delicious cheese as an accompaniment,” Mrs. Peasley added.
“The latest she could have left would have been at least by teatime,” said Mr. Bates, who had kept his presence at the entertainment well concealed. “I am very familiar with the timetables, thanks to seeing off several of the Duchess of Lowell’s relations.”
“I am appalled that my word should be questioned so.” Mrs. Asquith voice quivered.
“I agree.” Lowell’s duchess tapped her chin in an unconvincing manner. “I remember this exact sequence of events unfolded in one of your early novels,The Mysteries of Woldolpho,with dire consequences for the heroine. Have any of you read it?” The multitude shook their heads. “Ah, well. It is not amongst your most popular titles.”
“How faithful a reader you are, Your Grace.” The lady author did not sound pleased to say so.
“As far-fetched as this appears,” said Lowell, “we would be remiss did we not search for the lady.”
“Do allow me to help as best I can.” Mrs. Asquith clenched her hands at her bosom to convey her sincerity. “I would be happy to attend to the younger Humphries.”
The crowd stirred, and as one, formed a barrier between the lady author and the children.
The upper echelon put themselves between the crowd and the cubs. Alwyn could see, even with Lowell’s renowned control, his claws had sprung from his fingers; Osborn had no control to speak of: as he leaped to the ground, his back to the players, he allowed his fangs to drop. Alwyn’s instincts were all in a whirl, and through the tentative, not-at-all-reliable, minorsentioof his, he knew Tabitha was nearly upon them.
Alwyn sprang from behind the wagon. “Wait,” he said. He held up a hand, and all obeyed, even the other Alphas, and he did not fail to see the nasty—triumphant?—look on the lady author’s face.
***
The pit was just deep enough that Tabitha could not pull herself up over the edge. Had poor Mr. Quincy been made to dig it? If so, he had done it in such a way as left the roots of trees to act as handholds and footrests. It was not easy on her ankle, but she contrived and freed herself.
The actor, who had been staring off into the distance, saw her emerge and threw out his arms as if to block her progress.
“Do forgive me, Mr. Quincy.” Tabitha slapped him hard about the face.
He blinked once, twice, thrice, and looked around him in confusion. “What are we doing out here, miss? I did not lure you into the woods, did I? I am sorry to say you’re not my preference.” He winked and flexed his muscles, out of ingrained habit, for he immediately looked confused again.
“I believe you have been mesmerized by Mrs. Asquith.” Tabitha touched the back of her fingers to his forehead; his skin was cool. “What is the last thing you remember?”
The strongman’s brow furrowed as he thought. “I was putting the bear to bed as I do every night. She got quite fussed, and I turned around to see who was there, and that is all I know.”
“I do not trust that woman. We must hurry back to the village.” She took one step, and her ankle let her know it was not going to support a run through the wood.
“The play!” Mr. Quincy tore at his hair and howled to the sky. “I have missed my cue!”
“Come, come”—she waved him over—“lend me your arm and let us make haste. I fear the worst for the Humphries cu—children.”
Why would Asquith saychild’s playif she did not mean to capture the cubs? Tabitha would not put it past the lady author to create a disturbance in order to mesmerize the little ones. Even as canny as Ursella was, she was still small and no match for an adultversipellis.
Mr. Quincy was an able prop, and while not as graceful as when he was under the power of the pendant, what he lacked in sure-footedness he made up for in sheer strength. They rushed past the Barrington cottage, and he all but carried her down the road to the village. As they approached, they could see the show had been halted and Asquith stood at the foot of the pageant wagon’s playing area; the pack subtly gathered around the cubs. Her erstwhile suitors had done the job. She heard Lowell say, “As far-fetched as this appears, we would be remiss did we not search for the lady.”
“Do allow me to help as best I can.” Mrs. Asquith made a mockery of genuine emotion by clutching her hands at her heart. “I would be happy to attend to the younger Humphries.”
“Wait.” Tabitha’s heart thundered in her breast at the sight of Alwyn so near that woman, at his voice carrying so commandingly.
“That will not be necessary.” Mr. Beckett put himself at the front of the crowd that had closed around to protect the children. “The entire village will mind them.”
