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I prepared for silence, for cutting remarks, even a conversation regarding the weather, but Oberon surprised me by asking after my youngest sister’s bill to be presented in the House of Lords by her husband, the duke of Orley. He demonstrated a knowledgeable of the players and manoeuvrings that impressed. However, when I pressed him about the details of the legislation, his interest waned claiming the bill itself meant little to him.
“What a thing to say. Of course an alpha has no interest in the rights of omegas and betas!”
“Those rights are not in the interest of bank accounts. Most in this country keep their pennies in a strong box under the bed. When the banks work for more than the rich and powerful, I’ll follow the intricacies of Acts of Parliament.”
“Follow them now!” I snapped. “If—”
Oberon was saved from a deserved dressing down when one of his footmen pushed into the room with an even larger tray with half a dozen covered dishes. The scents told me enough. The meal would be plain which suited my roiling stomach just fine. The thought of rich foods… I’d rather go without. Oberon rose and personally fussed with a gate-leg table, expanding it to suit our needs.
“Leave ‘em here, Emilio. Then be gone.” Oberon instructed the lad with a quick wave of his hand. “Sit, Miss Hartwell. As I’d rather not get into politics with your family—such a vocal bunch of radical omegas. We might as well discuss your new place in my household.”
“My place? If I am a little bird, I assumed you’d put me in a gilt cage.”
His eyes sparkled. “Little bird, indeed. How clever of you to discern I call you that for a reason. Sit, then. Food will help pass the time.”
I crossed to the table and sat in the chair furthest from my new owner. Not an ideal position because I couldn’t see the door but I’d rather that than be a fraction of a breath closer to him. The table setting was neat, fashionable and completely lacked knives. “No knives.”
“I shall cut your food for you.”
In the unsteady silence, he filled my plate with boiled potatoes, some peas—a flashy show of wealth—and roast chicken. Once done, he pushed a small bowl of salt closer to me. “I am sure it will be delicious, but your appetite might not be large—”
“Enough.” I snapped. “You care nothing for my appetite or my comfort. You—”
“My dear, you will learn not to interrupt me. I care for all your appetites and your comfort is paramount.” He chided. “But I encourage you to eat. Puck will be ravenous when he returns and there’ll be nothing else until breakfast tomorrow.”
His tone reminded me so strongly of my governess telling the twins to eat their vegetables that my thoughts went straight to Tod and Jude. If there was one who could persuade a retractable child to eat the “ugly green things” as little Viola had called them, it was my Jude.
Three hours later there was still no word from Puck or the others.
“I doubt we shall hear from them until dawn,” he said. “I shall now lock you in your cage.”
His pronouncement sparked an unrestricted laugh. How silly was I to think he would put me into a cage. “I took ‘little bird’ too far,” I conceded.
“You’ll do your best to think the worst of me for some time, yet.” Then Oberon reached into his pocket and pulled out a very normal looking key, which he fit into the very normal looking lock, in a very normal looking door that I had completely overlooked.
“Huh.”
“Yes, I’m afraid your spies have misled you if they said it was some great fortress.”
“I rather thought you would be more careful, but if the security is so lax, I shall have to take my people to task for not making it through that door.” Rising from the table, I passed by this desk, pocketing an unused fork on the way. Entering his home, was more like entering the Tower. And like as not I would have to defend my person before I saw another friendly face.
It opened on well-oiled hinges into a dark, narrow hall, but more noticeable was the heavy scent of incense—the same heavy blend used in temples. It became stronger with each step, and its purpose was clear: to hide the scents of the residents.
“The first door on your left.”
I opened the door into the drawing room on the first floor. I looked back and blinked at the odd sight of a corridor that had been cut into the room like a peninsula. All an elaborate illusion to confuse the visitor into thinking they had entered some rabbit warren rather than one of the neighbouring houses.
“This building belongs to the Honourable Harvey Hendricks,” I said, annoyed that some accusation filtered into my words.
“Ah, Hendricks. A sweet chinless wonder with a penchant for the bones and nothing to venture. The house is his in name only. Oh, and a few rooms on ground floor.”
“How did I not know this?” I asked.
“My dear, I cannot answer you. Now, please, let’s go. I must return to the Hell and ensure that the bank hasn’t been broken by some buck.” There was a slight growl in his voice.
“You’ll leave me alone?” I was surprised that he was not going to attempt to molest me. I’d been preparing myself for the possibility and a shameful part of me felt insulted he didn’t desire me enough. That he wanted to return to his place of business rather than press his advantage. I wanted to tussle with him. Test our physical skills as well as our mental ones.
“No. But I shall leave you for this evening.”
