AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Syon
“Then take up my offer.The widow for votes. If we get it passed, then my sisters… After last night—Dammit, but my sisters must be protected. Especially with my mother out of the country… Viola can help. You intend to marry her by the end of the season or her next heat, whichever is soonest. The countess, not Viola. You don’t wish to marry Viola.”
“You want them like that?” I asked, amazed she was willing to sacrifice one omega for the gain of the others. “I’ll speak for you. But I will not force them. You convince them and with my influence, you will have your votes. Be sure of my support, Hartwell. It is yours,” I promised. Never before had I put myself out to help another, much less a stripling who had me pulling out my hair in frustration half the time we were in the same room.
“But that still leaves the countess. Let me… I could do it.” she laughed full of joyful humour or desperation, I could not tell. Neither I nor my plans were a joke. I was in earnest wishing to help the countess, but Hartwell wanted a quid pro quo.
“How dare— I can do my own wooing. All I wish is for you to find out which events she will attend,” I snapped. We’d been arguing all morning. “This is no joking matter to me.”
“Oh, Your Grace! Please excuse me. I do not laugh at you. Rather this,” she threw a hand about her. “This situation could not… I came here to be your secretary and now I offer to act as your go between? Really duke, it is too much! Farcical… My suggestion that I woo her, I mean.” Hartwell stopped abruptly and a definite crease formed between her finely shaped dark brows. I could almost see her mind flashing about hither and thither with thoughts that went too fast for me to follow. At last, those sparkling purple eyes met mine. “Your Grace… all mirth aside, I think that if you charge ahead like an alpha you will not meet with success. An alpha’s wooing is too rough. Yet… I never in my wildest imaginings thought I could provide a solution to your problem. Perhaps if you had asked me yesterday, this morning even I would have told you something else—even suggested putting pen to paper! Love letters. But the devil has me and I, if you shall permit, will speak my mind?”
I was struck dumb again by this odd alpha. Florey had warned me his niece was a young woman with an almost too serious disposition. This creature in front of me defied description—she sounded crazed, not sane, but as ever she piqued my curiosity. My visage must have been stormy though, for she swallowed and tugged at her cravat.
“I meant no disrespect,” she tried to chuckle, to bring back that levity she’d used so carelessly before. “And know you would be in the right to throw me out without reference. But I did not, on the honour of my family name, in the name of our friendship, laugh at you. I just can hardly believe my solution to your problem, for it defies all my good sense and reason. You are correct. I should be convincing you with the strength of my argument rather than bribe you with the countess’ hand in marriage—I admit I am wrong. However, I can still help you to the altar, and I think you should accept my help.”
“Well, tell me, whelp. And it better be good if you wish to keep your hide, for today you push my patience more than ever.” Though I could not help the smile that tugged at my lips. Faith, but the scamp was original. Yet her tune had changed so fast I worried she was up to some scheme that would end with us both in Fleet Street prison.
The fool gave a graceless bow. But when she had risen, our eyes met, and I saw just how serious she could be.
“Your Grace. I propose the unthinkable. Something I would not want spoken of here, would not leave these walls for I take advantage of my dear sister. Though you are a greater man and alpha than I, I fear my sister’s anger more than anything you could do to me.”
“Spit it out. None of your poetry,” now curious to learn whatever scheme she had devised within such a short space of time.
“I, under your direction, shall woo the lady for you.”
I grinned. She was mad.
“And how will you meet her? She will not see alphas.”
“Why, dressed as my sister. The fair Viola always wears skirts. It is known, Your Grace. Your business cannot be bandied about. So I will not ask her to do this for you. I will pretend to be an omega.” Her lips twisted into a wry smile as if knowing how ridiculous her proposal was.
I buried my face in my hands, but could not contain my mirth. A laugh erupted, much to her surprise. This young alpha was an Original, and, as little as I liked to admit it, I liked her despite, nay because of her graceless ways. I more than liked her. Our time together had been brief, but she’d yet to bore me, an all too often occurrence when I spent my days with all dynamics bowing and scraping afraid of speaking out of turn. There was a plainness to her manner, despite the poetry and almost careless deference. If there was a thought in her head, it would be spoken willy-nilly. Novel, to be sure. She fascinated me without any artifice—a worrying state of affairs if she were an omega, a temptation to look away from the countess.
“What do you get from this?” I couldn’t help but be curious. It was a dangerous game to play. An alpha intruding on an omega went against all my principles. I’d be happy for Mrs Markham, but an alpha? It bothered me.
“My sisters forever play pranks on me. Why shouldn’t I play one on them? Stand up for the honour of alphas everywhere?” she snorted with a wry grin playing across her beautiful face.
I sat back in my chair, head cocked to the side as I considered her plan. Sure enough, there were poems and songs of alphas and omegas cheating their way into a lover’s heart by transforming into the opposite dynamic. Even rumours that it had been done, and successfully. But when attempted—some omega wanting to take on the natural role of an alpha—the omega was caught in the lie. They could not carry off such a ruse because their scent and slick would reveal their dynamic sooner or later. Nature had its plans for the dynamics. The point was raised, and Hartwell grinned back at me.
“Your Grace should trust me. I’ve grown up with the best of omegas and know the ins and outs of their behaviour.” She stepped forward, a hand reached out in supplication. “And no one would expect me to produce slick amongst omegas…”
I cleared my throat, almost embarrassed by her jocular reference to eliciting slick from a roomful of omegas. Did there exist an alpha like Hartwell? The answer was plain as a pikestaff. Never, nor would there ever be an equal to my secretary.
“And you expect me to believe that you will honestly court her in my name? That you will not woo her for yourself?”
“Yes. And should she suspect that—“
“That you are an alpha...”
“Then I shall tell her the truth: I am an alpha, wooing in your name. Not so difficult, I think?” She smiled coyly. Yes, I thought. She could convince a grief-stricken omega, wild with the loss of her husband.
“I’d like to see you in this disguise first. I’m not convinced you will pull off the dynamic change,” I said, after some thought. She flushed again. Surprised and somewhat, I realised, embarrassed by my request. “If I cannot be convinced by your disguise, how do you expect an omega, whose sense of smell is even more sensitive, will accept the deception?”
“Will you keep me on as your secretary regardless of my success?”
“Yes.” I knew I could not live without her help. For Hartwell, despite her youth and seeming carelessness, made an excellent secretary. Though having been rusticated from Oxford, her understanding was greater than many who had graduated with honours. There was a rough idealism to her, and I determined to urge her to return to complete her degree rather than attempt to make a career in politics without the experience—quite frankly, the connections—that university would afford her. Idealism was well and good for youth, but hard-headedness was needed if she sought to establish a more liberal government, which would provide omegas with opportunities and legal protections from aggressive alphas.
Her shoulders dropped, and she flashed me a sheepish smile. “I admit, Your Grace, I’m more interested in working as your secretary than I am in flirting with an omega or sitting through morning visits.”
