“What of it? An odd family, wouldn’t you say?” Fordom smirked.
“Damn officious,” she spat. “I met Viola Hartwell at Lady Clare’s the other day. A shrew.”
I found myself growling—so this was the alpha who’d sneered at Hartwell while dressed as an omega. But it was Paxton who squared up to her.
“A shrew? You’re lucky Iris Hartwell is not here. She would challenge you before you took your next breath, and she a mere cub barely out of leading strings.”
“And I’m meant to be scared by that?” Wilson scoffed, but she left without another word.
“What a trio of fishwives we are,” Fordom chuckled. “Just the other day Pax faces down the infant and now he threatens to let the little one loose. You, Orley, must be next to defend the Hartwell name.”
* * *
I woke the next morning aching with need for violets and vanilla. Violets and vanilla. The first scent I’d smelled in so long that I thought I’d go mad with aching need no matter its source. I’d promised myself not to ask after Viola, but that control almost vanished when I entered my study to find Hartwell at my desk looking over some documents. She’d taken her bottom lip between her teeth and was worrying it.
“That is un-alpha-like behaviour,” I snapped, mad I had spent at least a minute staring and warring with the need to take the task upon myself or soothe the abused lip with gentle kisses.
“Oh, sorry. I suppose I am but a child in your eyes…” she murmured without taking her eyes off what she read. “Did you have a look at the latest bill they wish to put before the commons? It is rather peculiarly worded, don’t you think? Pitt must have a new secretary. Have you heard anything like that?”
“And why would you think the Prime Minister has changed secretaries?”
“Oh, the syntax. My father used to have us read all the bills pertaining to omega rights. All the bills, actually.”
“Even you?” I asked, confused. Alphas presented earlier than omegas, so it made little sense for Hartwell to have sat in on lessons with her sisters when she should have been at school. “Didn’t you go to school?”
“Hmmm… No. My parents could not bear the thought of us being away,” she was still distracted by what she was reading. I took the time to observe her in greater detail. “I presented later. They thought we would be the same dynamic. We presented at the same time. One of each. My father believed it had something to do with the fact we were born of a female alpha, male omega pairing.”
“And you? Do you believe your father’s hypothesis?”
“I am to read natural history and biology, Your Grace,” she chuckled and finally turned her face towards me. “I would say that my father had no proof… I should say that I respect him too much to argue with his ghost on a point he had spent his entire life working on. I too am interested in the assignment of dynamics. I plan…”
“I thought you wanted to follow a career in politics.”
“I do,” she hastened to assure me.”But first I will spend a few years looking at mating pairs. An odd kind of work to be sure.”
I smiled. It was odd, but then the Hartwells seemed to be a family of singular tastes.
“You had an interesting childhood,” I observed.
“Very. We were in Scotland until my father died. We all went to the parish school, and my father taught at the university because omegas have that freedom… Edinburgh is a beautiful city. The most beautiful I know.”
“Do you miss it?”
“I prefer the country. Beatrice prefers town. Hippolyta is a cat, dissatisfied with wherever she is.”
“And Viola?”
“Viola…” she paused and looked back at the papers she held. “She wants to be with the people she loves… I’ve never considered it before. But what of you, Your Grace? I know that at some point you must have been a child.”
“Naturally. But nothing like your own. Perhaps you’ve heard about my mother and father?”
“Only whispers. My parents were not gossips. My aunt, only about the comings and goings of her neighbours. My uncle could not care less.”
I fought the childish urge to roll my eyes. Her uncle might not care for social standing but he was a shrewd man and a political creature to the bone.
“My parents were married and mated. My mother’s affairs with other alphas and betas drove my father mad with jealousy. The year I was meant to start school, he blew his brains out. Officially it was a duel. But he could no longer take the shame of being an alpha cuckolded by his mate.”
“Oh. I see.”