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PAX
I glaredat the persons in my drawing room. A small card party in Beatrice’s mind was a good seventy persons or so, all happily at tables, hired for the night. I hadn’t even thought it possible to fit so many into my house. More alarmingly, since she had commandeered the room, my collection had been moved to the unoccupied bedrooms—the one benefit being it would be impossible to have overnight guests. I found the room offensive for what it symbolised: the abandonment of control of my own house. For the amusement of my mates, I’d grumble, but I never planned on changing a thing, except perhaps the paintings on the walls. Already I wanted to exchange a landscape for a still life. Regardless, seeing them in the candlelight gave me as much satisfaction as knowing Beatrice was responsible for this change. An omega’s influence, my alpha purred, was a powerful thing indeed.
My eyes followed my mate who flitted, table to table, and engaged her guests in laughing conversation. Jack had barricaded himself with a handful of military men, all of them enjoying themselves immeasurably while I’d been relegated to the table of old women and men whose ability to play whist appeared nonexistent. Since I cared very little for the game, their conversation rather than the cards provided the greatest hurdle to any pleasure I might have had should I have been at a table with my peers.
“What an incredible gathering,” some ancient alpha hummed as he followed my gaze and took in the surrounding room. “Never imagined I’d see the inside of this place. Good set up you have here with all these pictures on the wall. I heard Lady Paxton say they were good. But I couldn’t tell an old master from the little sketches my granddaughter makes me.”
The only gratifying part of that speech was that he’d called Beatrice Lady Paxton. The entire evening she’d been addressed by the title, always followed by the hum of alpha satisfaction.
“Pretty woman,” the man’s mate said. “There are more than a few heartbroken alphas and packs. Then again, it seems the Hartwells have mating in mind. The last is, oh—”
“Hippolyta,” the youngest of the lot said. Youngest at seventy. “They call her queen of the High Toby. Highway woman. Outrageous… But then you are family now, Lord Paxton.”
“Mind how you talk about my mate or her sisters if you want to have any place in society,” I growled
“No harm meant, my lord.” The biddy threw her hands up as if the physical action could ward off my building fury. “This generation of Hartwells might not be respectable, but they are still considered a prize for any alpha or pack.”
I ground my teeth. “Age don’t give you the right to speak like that, especially in my own home. I’ll speak to my butler about ordering you a carriage.”
I stood and barked at Iffley to find the fastest (legal) way to get rid of the guests I’d been cursed with. Perhaps I could have the servants simply remove the table and chairs. The look on the ancients faces would no doubt be priceless. Then I went to find my smiling mate.
“I’ve had to kick out the table you sat me at.”
“Thank Goddess!”
“Why did you have to invite the dead warmed over?”
“Friends of my father’s. They were at the Rutland’s drum last week. Didn’t I mention?” She frowned up at me. I wanted to take my thumb to those creases in her brow and smooth them away. “I… I thought it the right thing. I suppose my mother heard of tonight from them.”
That had been a point of contention when my mother-in-law had swanned into the drawing room as if she owned the place. The bitch had written a letter to Beatrice apologising. Beatrice admitted that for the sake of her youngest sisters, she must at least appear to be on the same terms with her mother as before. Why she chose to let her siblings remain ignorant of the despicable behaviour baffled me. “Then we should encourage your mother to follow her friends.”
Beatrice tensed in my arms, so I amended myself. “I shall go and encourage your mother to leave.”
“You are too good.” She tilted her chin, her need clear. I bent to seal my promise with a kiss.
“I cannot believe you love me.” My eyes wandered over her face. “I was a cad.”
“You have a number of redeemable qualities.” Her eyes danced, and she pressed closer, her soft curves pressing against my groin. I groaned. She wanted to do this now? When we had guests? Ones unlikely to leave before one in the morning.
“It only went eleven.” I found the clock. “Only eleven twenty six.”
“I could pretend to faint?”
“No. You’ll not play games like that. Go and tease Jack… I’ll take care of your mother.”
Mrs Hartwell sat with a handful of political types. A glance at the table told me they played for high stakes. My mother-in-law seemed neither ahead nor so far behind that she gave the impression of a gambler. Another part of her carefully curated appearance. She participated in the fashionable games and fancies of society but never… indulged.
“Ma’am.” I bowed. The play halted. “I came to say that my table has called it a night. Perhaps a game of piquet once you finished?”
She could not refuse and not too long after, I found her taking the seat across from me.
“Well,” she snapped while I shuffled the cards. “This ain’t your game.”
“It isn’t.” I admitted. “I merely wished for a quiet word. Your cronies have left because they chose to speak ill of my mate and her sisters.”
“I assume your refer to my daughters.”
“I refer to my mate and her sisters.” I smiled. “You are lucky Beatrice wishes to maintain appearances of a happy family. We’ve no intention to acknowledge you going forward.”
“You’d not dare keep me from her,” she smirked. “I’m her mother—”
“Madam! You wound me. I would not keep her from you. I’ve learnt Beatrice is best managed by permitting her freedoms. I put my cards on the table.” I did exactly that, stood and realised she was worth less time than the ugliest paintings I’d seen. “Good night.”
“We have not played our hand.”
I heard her rise, but in the time of our brief conversation, the room had cleared. The only personage remaining was Meeker, who lounged against the wall.
“See our guest out Meeker and lock up behind you.”
“My pleasure, lordship.” His eyes glinted in the candle light. He’d been there the day my mate had learnt the truth about her only living parent and had a particular hatred for the woman behind me.
