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“Like an alpha? Do you seek to reprimand me, whelp?” I growled. “Must I remind you that you came up with this subterfuge?”
Her face blanked, and she gave a stiff nod. “You are right. I have no reason to tell you how to handle your affairs. My apologies.”
“Now. That is not the only reason I should wring your neck. I hear from Paxton and Fordom that Viola is acting out.”
“You are damn officious—“ she choked off her words and flushed.
I growled at her. I wanted to grab the scruff of her neck and drag her to my study where I could demonstrate exactly how officious I could be. She should take it as a compliment that I clenched my fist and held my boiling passion in check.
“Iris? Uh... we shall be late if...” The innocuous Mr Jones gave an awkward cough. “Your Grace, I must be off. Viola is expecting us.”
“She is Miss Hartwell to you,” I growled, deep and threatening. No young alpha, especially one as pathetic as this Mr Jones or Hartwell who was in my employ, should be leaving the conversation first.
“You will stay at my pleasure,” I barked, exerting all of my superior alpha will.
Hartwell twisted her neck in submission, but it did not give me the satisfaction it normally did. On every other occasion, that same movement would have me wanting to scent and bite. Now I just wanted to get rid of them both.
“You will be early tomorrow, girl,” I told her, hoping she would respond as she was used to.
Instead, she unbent and briefly met my eyes before giving me a stiff bow and leaving with her friend. I stared after them. Confused and angry. The light was poor and perhaps that explained it. I had not realised how voluble Hartwell’s eyes were. How eloquent and expressive.
* * *
Hartwell arrived looking harassed, and those violet eyes shone with pent up emotion. From the moment she entered the library, I was alive to her every movement, every breath. I wanted nothing more than to lecture her in a way I could not do in public.
“Your Grace,” she began in a rush. “Syon. Yesterday evening. I was... You must understand!”
I waited for her to continue.
“Mr Jones... I was wrong to speak to you as I did. I regret how we parted.” There was a slightly deferential tilt to her head, which lacked the outright submission from the night before. A pair of sparkling eyes glanced up at me with hopeful rather than forced submission. Something inside of me gave way. Here was my Hartwell, my secretary, and the constant thorn in my side.
“Hartwell...” I sighed. “You are a nightmare. As for the countess—“
“I’m not wooing her for myself!” She burst out, taking a hasty step towards me, a hand outstretched as if to physically restrain the direction of my words.
“I—“ I paused. I had been about to tell her I did not care if she courted the countess or not. I hadn’t last night. But now? Now I wanted to snap and tell her that she was too young to be courting anyone, let alone a countess who was older than her.
“So, MissIrisHartwell is not wooing Lady Clare, the Countess of Kellingham” I teased.
“I promise. And Viola isn’t either,” she rushed on with a faint attempt at humour. I hadn’t thought that but was amused she wanted to tell me her omega sister wasn’t courting an omega. Then blushing, she continued. “Viola… Viola likes an alpha.”
“Viola likes an alpha? And isn’t presented? Tell me it ain’t that Jones fellow, I’d expect her taste better than that bull calf! But perhaps in picking such an unremarkable alpha…” I ground my teeth. This was madness. What did it matter to me who violets and vanilla married? “Your twin seems destined to create as many waves as your eldest sister.”
“Viola? Waves! No. I think she is coming to realise she would rather work behind the scenes. The power behind the throne.” A sheepish grin peeked through.
“She will struggle to find a mate who allows it,” I pointed out. “I do not mean that unkindly. But no alpha wants to be manipulated. No one does.”
She visibly deflated. “Not even Arthur Jones?”
“You must be mad! Fit for Bedlam.” I couldn’t imagine Viola with such a weak chinned, inconsequential alpha. “No.”
“Yes. She thought to marry him. If she has a husband who takes her politics seriously, perhaps…”
I growled. The idea of her with another had not occurred to me. But with that uninspiring alpha? A man with no presence?
“How could she shine married to one such as him?” I asked, unable to hold back the faint snarl.
“I don’t know!”
