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“Soda Water?” I asked. “How will that remove the stain from these old things?”
“Quite by chance.” My youngest sister had adapted well to becoming a duchess—or duchess-to-be since she’d not have the title in truth until their union was blessed in the Goddess’ chapel in a few days time. Including a quaint, sweet solicitousness she’d never demonstrated a year ago. “I’d spilt some horrid concoction the doctor prescribed for morning sickness on my new dress and then knocked over a glass of Soda water and what can you imagine but the stain came out! Did I mention we are expecting Syon today? He is racing Lord Paxton and Colonel Fordom from London.”
“What!” My mama snarled. “You should have told me, Viola Hartwell… I won’t have that alpha near—”
“I’m my own mistress.” Viola interrupted our mother so sharply I nearly snorted. My sister could give any alpha a run for their money, and a part of me was grateful Orley enjoyed her flashes of dominance —though I doubted many alphas found the tendency as endearing as he. “This is my home, Mama. Besides, now that everything is settled, I am Orley, not Hartwell. I like Paxton and Fordom for being Syon’s friends.”
I laughed at this intelligence. Oh, how I laughed. Paxton and Jack friends? And friends with my brother-in-law? How? How had I not known this already? Why had my sister never mentioned the two… But then she did not know much of my relationship with either alpha. Fate had a sense of humour, and I liked her the better for it. Even if I was the butt of her joke.
“La, sister. What? Has Orley made friends with Lord Paxton and Jack Fordom? I must suppose that Paxton and the good Colonel came together over some disreputable…” I stopped realising I did not want to consider my mate doing anything disreputable. “Does Orley like associating with a pair of reprobates? A fine pair of alphas, to be sure. I’ll be glad to try my metal against theirs. We can set the pair of them up as targets in the long gallery.”
My sister’s eyes widened, probably remembering how she’d learnt that I’d shot Lord Paxton a year ago. “Please, no killing my guests. Please, Bea, if you can’t manage to be friendly, try to be civil,” Viola pleaded.
“I just hope there are no accidents on the road.” Mrs Markham interjected. My lips twitched. My friend was surely the best omega I knew. Not just because she embodied every grace an omega was meant to possess, but at her centre was a plain-speaking goodness that had seen me through my worst moments… and an ability to change the topic of a conversation at the drop of a hat.
“I shall be… civil.” The devil tempted me, and I couldn’t help but speak the thought at the fore of my mind. “But they are like to break their necks in their alpha need to best each other.”
“But who do you think will win?” Mrs Markham asked.
“There is no doubt that Paxton will arrive before the others,” Viola chuckled. “Syon will be furious.”
“You should not be pleased that your mate—”
“He is not my mate yet,” Viola pouted. “The ass wanted my permission! I must wait until I push out this little devil and then another six months at least before my next heat. Beatrice, I depend on you to take care of the little pup during my heat. I’d not trust anyone but you.”
“I cannot conceive how an alpha like Paxton has any skill in curricle racing,” I remarked, unable to prevent my thoughts from focusing on the two alphas. “He is an arrogant ass only concerned with collecting art.”
“Surely that is something to recommend him to you? And I thought you knew him,” Viola signalled to the waiting footman and requested some more lemonade. “I got the impression… He broke the record, racing between London and Newmarket… A real feat. I thought you were close…”
“I’ve met him twice, and that is two too many times,” I said. Mama knew nothing of my midnight visit to the house on Curzon Street, and I prayed she never learnt of it. If she did, I’d find myself at the altar willy-nilly. “Jack… I’ve not seen since before I made my curtsy. I dare say he remembers me as well as I remember him. And, when I knew him, he’d never driven anything more exciting than a gig with a single horse.”
“Oh, please. I am dying to know. What is Fordom’s story? I know so little, and Syon cannot get anything from him either. Did he even exist before the army?” she grinned. “I know I must have met him because he smells familiar, but I swear I could not identify him until he mentioned it.”
The expected pang was not there. The expected ache, a mere ghosted touch along my mating gland. I could not speak at first.
“It is of no consequence,” Mama growled. Except it was.
“He is the eldest son of an Edinburgh printmaker,” I closed my eyes, conjuring up his face. So darkly handsome. Would he look the same now? “He… Even as a young man, he was the kind of alpha romantic omegas desired. The most intense… The most… Something. Jack was an alpha for a girl to fall in love with, but now he's a man. I do not know the man.”
“Certainly it is foolish to think he has changed so much.” Mrs Markham chided me.
“Ten years changes anyone, regardless of the bones of a man or woman. We all change. The only thing I can imagine is that he has not lost his seriousness. Aye, but he was so serious.” An unwilling smile tugged at my lips. “I rarely remember him smiling or joking unless it was over some extremely clever quip. At times—”
“Never laugh?” Viola interrupted. “Jack? Colonel Jack Fordom never laugh? I cannot imagine the alpha without a smirk or some clever thing to say.”
“As I said, people change. I’ve not seen or spoken to him since before he left for the army.” I picked up my brush again, but could not focus on the daubs of colour before me. “I did not know they were friends…”
“Well, he speaks of you often enough. And Paxton. I thought you must be very close to them, for I swear they talk more of you than any other topic.”
“How very dull… I am not interesting.” I felt their eyes on me. I was interesting, and that was not my vanity speaking. Hartwell omegas were singular, and therefore an object of curiosity to society. “This heat is too much. I will go to my room.”
“Oh, have I upset you?” Viola made a weak attempt to rise from her chair but was hampered by her skirts and her large belly.
“No. I’m cross because of the heat and these damn clothes.”
“Then wear a dress. I’m sure I could have a maid take in one of mine. We’d be able to find you something…”
“I don’t wear dresses,” I snapped. “Apologies for being such a bore. The heat… and my heat is fast upon me… Goddess, that I must have my heats in the summer.”
