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I hummed in understanding. “No need, Horne. The walk will do me good. Make sure he remembers to eat.”
“Of course. You take such care of him.”
I froze, dread building that I was suspected of being other than what I appeared. Very slowly, I turned to look at the old servant. His face was completely impassive, and I cursed at the skill of long-serving servants to keep their thoughts so close.
“Perhaps that says more of the care he...”
”No need to come to blows,” he put up hands to forestall my protest. “Merely that before you came, His Grace rejected any fussing. You have made our job much easier. We hope you will be around for as long as—”
“I leave at the end of this parliamentary session,” I cut him off. “If not before. When he marries…”
“I hope that is not true. That you will change your mind.”
The words were spoken with such kindness that I ground my teeth and resisted giving him my best alpha growl. “I am not some changeable omega.”
“Which is why you are so good for him,” Horne assured me and opened the front door. I paused for one long moment. “So like the dowager duchess.”
“You are lucky he would hunt me down and rip me to shreds for quitting over something you said. But I might risk it if you continue.”
His smile was enigmatic. “I was butler to His Grace’s grandmother. My loyalty lies with her and now with His Grace.”
Frustrated beyond measure, I made it to the pavement and was grateful for my decision to walk rather than take a chair or wait for a carriage. A carriage would have me surrounded by Syon’s scent, while fresh air might blow it away. If only my worries were so easily dispersed.
* * *
Turning onto Weymouth Street, I realised I was not prepared to face my aunt or uncle, should they be home or wanted to see me. My aunt had taken to bed recently, complaining of some nervous disposition, and my uncle was spending more of his time at his clubs than before. Instead, I crossed the street and knocked on Mrs Markham’s door, giving a silent prayer she would be home. Her butler opened the door and when questioned, admitted me with a squinting observation that I seemed to have lost my coat. I cursed. Until then I’d not realised I’d left my mustard velvet at Orley House. The butler led me up the stairs to a brightly lit drawing room far more fashionable and richly furnished than what I’d expect for a widow living in this part of town. He was a great, if ancient, alpha, and I was surprised to find an alpha working as a servant. When I questioned her, she laughed.
“Dixon? Oh, he isn’t my butler even if he pretends to be. He was a colleague of my late husband’s and a widower. When I decided to rent this house rather than stay in Hampstead, he said he would come too. To protect me! I think he is bored and wanted to feel useful. Alphas do not always have it easy, my dear. Their instincts to protect what they deem is theirs is... I think difficult might be too gentle a word. May I say you look very fetching in your men’s garb… But flushed… Are you unwell, child?”
“I’m well… I just…” I stopped myself before committing some indiscretion. I realised her daughter was not present. “And where is Hero today?”
“I’ve sent her to school... It is not easy being a beta heiress.”
“Heiress? I’d not known. You... You were married and mated, yet your child is a beta?”
“Yes. Shall we begin your portrait?” She raised an eyebrow, challenging me for I’d yet to visit her home and sit for her. Syon had taken all my time, which I did not regret for a second.
I watched the enigmatic omega work out of the corner of my eye. She had refused to let me see her work no matter my pleading, but I enjoyed our afternoons together when she came to visit my aunt or I met her at the countess’. I still did not wholly trust her. Her ever pointed questions about my relationship with Syon. But of all my acquaintances in London, I liked her best. We were friends of sorts. Both intelligent and independently minded. Though she chose to use those smarts to portray a frivolous society matron. And I? I masqueraded as an alpha. We talked of art and society. She told me stories of her youth and the scandals she had learnt when her sitters shared tidbits of gossip. Our conversations did not give me the same kind of joy as those with Syon. Still, I enjoyed being able to talk freely about my ideas with an omega.
“Tell me. How is your alpha?”
“He is not my alpha. He is my employer.” I flushed. She would be able to scent him on me, and I prayed she could not guess why his scent was particularly strong.
“I think it is more than that. I heard you were at a very select political dinner last night. Surrounded by alphas and very few friends of yours or your uncle’s.”
I huffed in annoyance. I did not want to discuss my own life when I could make such little sense of it.
“It was... Very instructive.” I shifted in the chair. My memories of the night. The conversation, the food, the comforting presence of Syon as he watched me share my ideas. I’d even caught him smiling into his glass after I’d cursed at Pitt for plans to prevent omegas from being permitted to travel on their own. A thought occurred to me. “You are like my uncle. Always conceiving that I have feelings for the duke. I entered his service to gain support for the Omega Property Rights Act. To push politics, not passion.”
“You enjoyed it! I’ve never seen... your scent is so sweet. And politics are your passion,” she teased. “Don’t worry. Your response to him is natural.”
“I had not noticed... Being so close, physically I mean, does it cause the body to react? Or is... I am so sheltered,” I sighed. “I know I respondphysicallyto him. But that is nature. I cannot conceive why I am telling you this…”
“Let us take a break. Some tea, perhaps?”
“No. I can sit a bit longer.”
“Well, I would like a break.”
