“We must test you amongst unfamiliar alphas. How many have you met?”
I clenched my teeth, accepting that he was correct.
“Let me see. Turn for me, young mistress.” Drews, my uncle’s valet, pursed his lips together.
My cheeks heated but I did as he asked. “I feel… I mean I’ve worn men’s clothing but not for many months.”
“You’ve done well. Though if you must go into society, permit me to have the tying of your cravat?”
The tension broke and I found myself smiling. I had no notion of whether this would work or not. But for the first time I knew, amongst these men, my dynamic didn’t matter. The greatest complaint to be had was merely the tying of my cravat. “I would be honoured, Drews.”
From the drawing room, I found myself on horseback riding my favourite grey filly through the streets of London and learning the mode of greeting the dynamics as an alpha. We did not stop to speak but moved on with a nod. My task was to observe the niceties of alpha behaviour and by the time we returned to the narrow, not quite fashionable house on Weymouth Street, I was exhausted from the experience. As we dismounted, Mrs Markham came out of her house across the street.
Following my uncle’s lead, I smiled and doffed my hat. “Mrs Markham. Good day to you.”
“Iris Hartwell! And I thought you had returned to Oxford. Have they sent you down? Your Mama and sisters will be most displeased if you do not complete your degree.”
“Fear not, no Hartwell would ever be sent down from Oxford,” I jested. “Some business recalled me to town unexpectedly.”
“Well, I am glad to hear that you plan on honouring your parents. Is Miss Viola at home? I had hoped to ask her to sit for a portrait,” her smile sly and eyes seeing more than I would wish.
I flushed realising that she meant me! Though why she would want to paint me was a mystery.
“I did not know you painted,” I looked to my uncle uncertain how to proceed.
“Oh, an amateur to be sure. Nothing like your eldest sister.”
“Viola will be pleased to sit for you, I am sure,” he told her. “I do, however, believe that she is out with my mate. I am sure Iris can pass the message along.”
The omega’s eyes turned to mine. I bowed, hoping that she did not catch sight of my unusual eyes, for if there was one thing that could destroy all my plans, it would be those violet orbs which betrayed me more readily than the clothes I wore or the dynamic I pretended to be.
* * *
“You will need to keep your wits about you,” my uncle said as we took a carriage to St James’ a few hours later. I didn’t need to be told that. I was about to walk into one of the exclusive Alpha only clubs. Iris was not yet a member, but my Mama was, and she had plans to put her forward when she’d finished at Oxford. My uncle, however, saw nothing wrong with bringing me along earlier in the evening before things became wild.
“If I tell you, leave,” he muttered as we passed through the doors.
Though projecting a young alpha’s easy confidence, I had never been more terrified. What good wouldwitsdo me if my nature betrayed me? I had chosen the shirt that had the strongest smell and had anointed myself with oils intended to mimic an alpha’s musk. But I had not expected my own physiological response. I felt almost faint with the pheromones that lay stagnant in the rooms we passed through until we reached the relative privacy of a small library where my uncle had invited some friends for cards.
“What’s here? Do you bring a stripling with you? What for?” asked an alpha with a florid complexion and poorly powered hair. His name was Marshall and a member of Parliament aligned with the liberal, Whig opposition, as my uncle was.
“The girl had some business in town… A trip to the tailor. Can’t have her look like a provincial,” my uncle gave a disapproving but amused shake of his head. The more I saw of him, the less he was the man I’d grown up knowing. Was this relaxed and bantering man the same one who sneered at his wife and mate?
“Well, child. You are Hartwell’s get?” the lone female alpha smiled. She was dressed in the height of feminine fashion with her pale blonde powdered to perfection. Tall and willowy, I saw the same traits in this woman as my own Mama. The easy, almost lazy power that infused every one of her words and actions. Would Iris be like that? Would I look at my twin and feel this unpleasant instinct to defer to her?
“Viscountess Gale, cub,” my uncle prompted me, and I bowed as was required.
“That is what they tell me,” I kept my tone light, comfortable. “I admit I’m finding town…”
“Overwhelming. And the club too, no doubt,” she laughed. The others joined in. But they did not laugh at me. It was sympathetic, which I had never expected. “Yes, so many grown alphas in one place can bring out the rougher side of us. Best go home before the pack becomes too wild. You won’t want to provoke one of them.”
“Them?” I cocked my head to the side and felt a bantering ease infuse my being.
“The ones who hunt down those wet behind the ears. Greenhorns who are easy pickings. Besides, once it gets out who your parents are—“
“I’m not ashamed of my parents,” I snapped. The words were out and an uneasy silence hung in the air. I was caught, I realised. No young dynamic would dare challenge—and so openly—mature alphas and powerful members of the aristocracy to boot. They would come for me and discover what I had so recklessly dared to do. “I—“
Another alpha, much older and in a chair close to the door began clapping. “Well said, pup. I thought you might be a weakling given your size but seems you have teeth and ain’t afraid to bark. You are among friends here, fear not. Your parents are well respected in our circle, no need to feel shame.”