“Picking a fight with me, Puss?” I grinned through the sting.
“As you see,” she glared.
“Would you like pistols, my little omega?”
“I’m neither yours nor little,” she huffed, but I could see a little smile peeking through.
“But you are an omega.”
“Well, is this happening or not? I promised to pay the countess a call after this to let her know how you are, she has been worried,” Iris complained.
“Making up to Lady Clare?” I smirked.
“Yes. You’ve a problem with that?”
“Take milquetoast if that’s to your taste.”
“Get out of here, Iris. I can handle this. Tell my aunt I will be home for dinner.”
Iris looked at me. There was a little tick at her jaw. I thought her a poor excuse for an alpha to leave her sister like this. How could she believe her sister safe? It proved that none but I could be counted on to protect the hellion at my side.
“Vi. Beat him. Beat him so well he won’t forget the name Hartwell.”
“Ha! By the end of this, her name won’t be Hartwell,” I promised the twins.
* * *
Two hours later, I met with my Hartwell in the long gallery. We’d negotiated that she could bathe on her own. But she would not leave for fresh clothes, which meant she was in the first gown she’d worn in this house, the one that had been carefully stored since that fateful day many weeks ago, kept my servants even after I’d commanded it burnt. Her hair was still wet, and she’d left it loose falling over one shoulder, causing the fine cotton fabric to turn almost sheer with how wet it was.
“You look lovely, my dear.” And she did. Beyond what mere words could say for she glowed.
“You took a bath,” she replied. I would have thought her tone provoking except for her one nervous tick, she was playing with the collar of her dress.
“We’ve seconds.” I turned and indicated Paxton and Fordom who’d arrived on my doorstep ready to find my corpse.
“I take Fordom,” she said quickly. “He was in the army and smells like family.”
“The lady has taste,” the alpha smiled. “Let’s get this finished. You didn’t call for a doctor, Orley…”
“We can fire at a target that isn’t breathing,” I informed the bloodthirsty omega who was glaring at me.
“That isn’t any fun,” Viola pouted. “I’d rather put a bullet through you.”
“Hartwell omegas and shooting alphas who have their best interests at heart… To be clear, you are all mad!” Paxton snapped. “Thank Goddess, I am not acting for you.”
“I hate you,” she snapped.
“Children,” Fordom growled in an unexpected show of temper from the normally sardonic alpha. “Decorum, please. I think this ancient knight and his fellow will make fine targets.”
I looked over at the suits of armour he had chosen. “They’ll do.”
“How will this work?” Viola asked with a frown.
“Whomsoever hits the target closest to the heart wins.”
“That isn’t how a duel works!”
“This isn’t a duel,” Fordom told her, allowing a bit of alpha to colour his words. “You are both letting off steam. Have this as a bet. What is the stake?”