She called for tea and it arrived, brought by the intimidating Dixon. After we were left alone, Mrs Markham turned to me and cocked her head to the side. “Do you think Dixon and I are immune to each other?”
“Yes,” I said without hesitation.
“Why?”
“You were both mated to other people.”
“Then you are wrong. A mate bond is a wonderful thing and the loss is—I cannot put it into words. But an alpha or omega can mate more than once. I am sure you know the Lords and Lady Cross? They are three alphas and an omega. And the duke’s grandparents had a pack.”
“But they never took lovers after their mates died.”
“La, child! What did your Mama teach you?”
“That she could not consider a mate after my father died. There were interested omegas. Or rather, their families. Some younger than Beatrice… My age! Mama rejected all of them.”
“And sometimes that is the case. But… Omegas in particular have needs. A heat does not quiet until we are advanced in years, and while an alpha’s knot might continue to swell—“
“You speak very plainly.”
“Faith, but the world has grown prudish. You are raised so sheltered it is almost remarkable you know what goes on between a man and woman.”
I wondered how red my cheeks were, if my scent was spiking as I remembered what I had been doing with Syon early that day. I stood abruptly and strode across to the canvas but stopped short of seeing how she had captured me. I did not want to be confronted by image. Not yet at least.
“I know what happens!” I snapped. “Beatrice knew an alpha when she was younger. I remember it was when we were still in Scotland. It was why she never accepted any of the alphas who proposed to her. Even though she is… To look at, she is a perfect omega. But her disappointments set her against alphas…”
“I’m surprised you know of that. You must have been quite young.”
“I listened from the landing. Our house was not very large,” I smiled at the memory. I’d been ten. “I think my parents wanted to protect us from that. And…”
“I’m aware of what your parents did in the past. They created a rather ignorant omega daughter.”
“Ignorant to think I could pull this masquerade off,” I sighed.
“Oh, child! You are… You have not been caught. You are under his nose every day—quite literally. I think he must have the worst nose in London.”
“I take suppressants and… He lost his sense of smell after a fight that broke his nose.”
She howled with laughter. Joyous and carefree, continuing until she wiped tears from her cheeks. “You might not want to reveal that. Alphas are proud—but it is a good sign he trusts you.”
Her smile broke through my brown study like the sun through clouds.
“As likely, he could never expect someone to conceive of such a mad scheme. Alphas lack the subtlety of omegas. They need…”
“To be taken care of,” I sighed. “Bea takes care of Mama, who’d forget to eat if she wasn’t reminded Hippolyta keeps company that makes alphas nervous. Why do we have to be the ones caring for them? Our abilities are greater than that of a helpmate.”
“Sweet child. Do you think alphas so great? Imagine being run mad at the thought of your mate in danger. The struggle to let go and let them explore the world? Your Mama is a rare alpha. And you should find one as civilised. You could do worse than the duke.”
“I thought you wished him to marry Lady Clare?“
“And he would run roughshod over her. She is a gentle soul and would not stand up to him. That is not to say all mates or marriages must have that kind of spark. Many omegas would be better paired with a gentle beta. Rather, I think of you, my dear. What are your ambitions and how are they best served?”
“Very well, a mate who saw me as an equal. Who took me seriously. That is my ambition. And… And one who loved me as I am.”
Her eyes twinkled, though she forbore to say anything. Try as I might, I could not summon the face which belonged to Iris’s friend. He’d dined with us when Iris had been in town, but I could not remember him beyond his name—Arthur Johnson, or was it Andrew Jones? I’d considered marrying him, what a fool to think an alpha as innocuous as him would be enough for me. Syon was correct. He had a weak chin.
I sat with Mrs Markham for the next hour and contemplated the tangle I had found myself in. How dangerously careless my actions were. I should quit my position as Syon’s secretary. I should quit and never look back, never wonder. The rational part of me fought against the fear. It pointed out that my disguise had been successful except that Mrs Markham had seen through it. Paxton had met the real Iris and noted the difference, but like Mrs Markham, he seemed determined to keep my secret. And those were persons who knew my family, who knew me. All others did not question my dynamic. There were no glances that sought to see past the presentation. It was only when I was with Syon, alone and tired, that I feared being caught. When I relaxed and my defences were lowered.
I blushed. Those were not the only times.