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I rubbed my hands together. This was progress!
This omega… Could I find some sparks of love? Orley and Viola had said her feelings were hot rather than cold. And what was liking but the next step to loving? It was one thing to be her alpha, quite another to bring love into the mix. I could not believe so. We had known each other a matter of days and love could never develop so quickly. Perhaps after we had mated, love would grow, but I was not such a fool as to believe love born of an instant. And yet I would command her instant devotion and love if I could—my alpha desired nothing less than her everything.
Pax
The dinner bellscattered the company only for us to regroup, in our finest, in the drawing room. Jack and I were down early. Not so much by design than what I’d come to know as his military efficiency with dress—a habit I’d adopted during our acquaintance. But he still managed to be down before me. Sitting in the open window, a lit cheroot in one hand, while the other rested on his thigh, fingers tapping out an irregular beat.
“Tell me, do you know Stimpson?” I demanded when I made it to his side.
“Stimpson?” Jack frowned. “The alpha who came today? Nothing. Is he a military man?”
“Not that I am aware of. Why?” I looked at him. Jack never forgot a name or a face.
“There was a Stimpson in Charles Fanshawe’s regiment, but he was drummed out for his debts. And there was some talk of a girl who was left disappointed. Fanshawe was telling me about it the other day at Drexler’s.”
I growled. “Well, there is a Stimpson here. Even if it isn’t the same one the name ain’t common. Arriving like that with little Hero Markham? Driving in this heat? I don’t like him. Didn’t tend to her or the horses. Can’t trust a man—“
“You’re on edge for more than that.” Jack cocked his head. The other alpha still bore a shiner from his tavern brawl. It didn’t matter that I’d made good money on his bouts in the past, I disliked that he viewed himself as nothing more than a prize fighter. I’d fix that now. “What did Beatrice have to say?”
“I haven’t had a chance to talk to her about it.” I admitted, though asking her advice had crossed my mind. “But given a moment I’ll ask her about him.”
“I meant did she speak… You will talk to her about Stimpson? Pax hear me out my friend. But perhaps you can leave Stimpson to others to deal with? You’ve an officiousness about you which is only tempered by the fact I enjoy watching you stick your nose into things.”
“I have no intention to let that girl…”
“Enough. Pax, she isn’t your sister. Let’s just enjoy the evening. Hey? Perhaps you can… I don’t know. Not harass the fair Miss Hartwell? Flies and honey, Benedict. Leave this Stimpson to his own devices? For one night?”
“Why are you suddenly so determined to be relaxed? Did one of the betas knock a screw loose last night?”
“Pax. The world is beautiful. I’m just enjoying it. That is all.”
“Liar.”
He shook his dark curls so that they fell over his forehead and he had to brush them back with a careless gesture. “My friend. Truly. Yesterday was… Well I would it had gone otherwise. But today? I’ve chosen violence against my demons by enjoying myself. So much the better to infuriate those around me. I decided this on my walk. Damned hot, but a swim in the lake cooled my temper.”
“Get out of my sight. You are a pest in this kind of mood,” I mock snarled. This joking Jack was one I knew. For the light in his eyes was viciously bright. Too bright to be genuine joy. He was wild with something and if he was anything like me, that something was Beatrice.
“But I am full of spice, Benedict. I napped in the library after luncheon.”
I frowned. “I was there. As was Beatrice. And I did not see you.”
“Under that large table down the centre of the room, nice and cool. Where better to nap? You know how much I hate reading. A place full of books would bore me to tears if I kept my eyes open.”
“Liar.” A quick laugh caught our attention. Mrs Markham stood on the threshold, her daughter beside her. “Colonel Fordom, you were reading a botanical textbook. I saw it with my own eyes when I went to fetch Beatrice.”
“Under the table? You spy! I merely looked at the etchings, ma’am. I’ve an eye for them. My father is a printer.”
“I know. It is a very interesting business. My own departed mate made his money in wool and other things. I’ve no head for it but… Well, he was a merchant. And I miss him every day.”
The drawbridge slammed down across the mote. Mrs Markham, the daughter of a peer, had just admitted to loving a Cit. It was as clear as anything that she wanted to make clear to Jack that being the son of a printmaker wasn’t a bad thing. It could have been done a thousand ways, but she’d chosen to just throw the information out there. But why? She was an odd woman. Beautiful, in the way some mature women are. Forward in her views. A bit of a ninny but so sharp at times one might compare her to a knife where the blade was dull but the point still sharp.
Instead of Beatrice, I found myself seated next to Hero, who looked much improved. When I told her as much, she bluntly informed me her constitution was not so weak, even if she could not stand the heat.
“You are like your mother.” I realised.
“That is the highest of compliments. Thank you, my lord.” Hero once again spoke softly but her eyes sparked with mischief. Yes. This was not a quiet child, but a dangerous young miss who would no doubt drive wild whomsoever came within her power when she was old enough to know how to wield it. Until then she’d be a diamond in the rough—shy but observant, playing by society’s rules but slowly becoming sure of herself. And if there was one thing I prided myself on, it was protecting diamonds in the rough. “Not many alphas are so capable as to compare a beta to an omega and have it not sound like hollow praise.”
“I was not comparing your dynamics, child.” I heard a muffled cough and looked across the table to see Beatrice flash a teasing smile in my direction.
