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Jack gave a Gallic shrug, his smirk still plastered on his face. “Paxton’s history with that family is not as long as mine. Beatrice and I grew up together. Though she’d rather swallow broken glass than speak to me—never mind that. But I’m sure that if Beatrice looked in Pax’s direction he would explode with frustration.”

“Why not just mate and marry her? Or you could share her. I hear you’ve done it before.”

“Why not indeed? And why not just take Viola for yourself? She is far more politically minded than any other and would make an excellent political hostess. And beautiful.”

“I’ve yet to meet the lady. And I’m no politician.” It was a poor excuse when I knew her scent lingered everywhere in the library. At least he would be ignorant and just take the scent to belong to some other omega.

“Oh? Her scent...” he frowned. “I could swear…”

I gritted my teeth, anger swirling about as I considered why Fordom would know Viola’s scent. He, who by his own admission was persona non grata at the Hartwell residence. Viola, not yet presented. Viola, carefully watched and protected from alphas. Viola, who was not the one sitting with the countess but safe at home and aware of her sister’s masquerade. Viola, whose name had tumbled from my lips this morning as I’d fucked my hand. The name I’d nearly called out as I came in Hartwell’s mouth.

“As for politics? Orley, your dinner the other night was considered enlivening, to put it mildly.”

“Well, then you and Beatrice?” I tried to change the conversation.

“I’m more likely to marry a shrew than my lady disdain,” as he took snuff. “She would not have me again.”

Again? I wondered what he could mean by that.

“You and Paxton protest too much, methinks.”

“Yes, it is a romance only Shakespearia could do justice. I knew Beatrice as a girl and when I say that to tangle with her a second time would be the death of me, I do not lie. But Orley, in all seriousness. Do not take into your head to ignore your instincts. While mine have, on occasion, led me astray, they do not do so for all alphas. I am man and alpha enough to admit I stumbled in my handling of Beatrice… But she and I were young. She was far too young. We both live. Do not make my mistake, though. Claim your Hartwell. Or cut yourself free before you are burnt.”


Tags: Flora Quincy The Hartwell Sisters Saga Paranormal