Page 29 of Omega's Virtue: Part One (The Hartwell Sisters Saga 2)

“There is no need to take a pet. Clearly—“

I sat up suddenly unable to hear whatever was going to be said—perhaps it was not know what she would say that caused everything to change. “No. My business is my own. None shall sway me. No one, no matter how alpha they might be.”

“Faith, she is too proud,” Mrs Markham laughed.

“And they are nigh blinded in their obsession,” Vi tutted. “I am surprised Paxton hasn’t run off with her. Carting her off to Scotland regardless of her will. Such treatment would suit Bea to a T, do you not think? And despite her protestations, my sister loves the thrill of the chase.”

“Since when, my dear, have you become so wise in the ways of love?” Mrs Markham raised a finely drawn brow.

“Why since I fell in love,” her voice tinkled. “But I do not believe Bea capable of falling in love so easily. She is too… strong willed for that. Love requires compromise and that is a quality not one of them possess.”

I ground my teeth. Did they want me to respond? Seek to provoke me? I’d be happy to oblige. “My ears are burning.”

“Fordom is surely a level headed man.”

“Colonel Fordom is an alpha,” I pointed out. “They are arrogant and led by their own pleasure—especially when they are young. Society is right to expect alphas to marry later, when their passions have settled. If only omegas were afforded the same luxury.”

“Then you are both of an age to settle. If it’s to be believed, and I do believe it, he allowed Orley to win their bout.” Mrs Markham sipped her tea. “Do you think we could have some port? Beatrice looks a little pale. The wine might improve her complexion.”

“Of course. Smith? Could you bring us some port?” I couldn’t help my smile. Vi had adapted to order people about. I wondered how far that stretched. Did Syon give her control in their bedroom? Then she laughed. “My poor husband. I’m not sure I believe you, but the fact remains the Colonel is an alpha’s alpha.”

“La, but what can that mean, my dear Viola?”

“Only that alphas admire him. I spoke with Pitt the other day, and he expressed how well Fordom always looks, how he should be taken as a model by younger alphas and what a shame it was he had left the army. And I do not believe that Pitt has ever complimented someone like that.”

“And that is meant to recommend him?” It hurt how well liked my mate was. How well known. And yet in ten years we our paths had not crossed once. “The recommendation by Pitt, whose politics I abhor, does not tempt me.”

“She says no alpha could tempt her,” Mrs Markham twinkled, continuing to act as if I was not there. Her smile, eyes, voice bright and teasing. The omega who had devoted herself to me when I was a girl just arrived in London now gossiped about me with my youngest sister. “What a lie, and she knows it. Her pride is at stake. What other alpha does she resist more than them? What alphas does she seek out?”

“My sweet Mrs Markham, how do I seek them out. And dear sister,” I crooned. “Do you think you will learn discretion before you become a duke’s mate or shall that accomplishment not be achieved until after the fact?”

Viola froze, her eyes big. “Beatrice! Are you there?”

“I’ve been here the whole time, as well you know. Tell me, what in all that is Holy to our Goddess do you think you are gossiping about? My mate, mating,” I rushed to correct myself. “I am sure they are not so enamoured as you—“

“Well, it is no secret, sister,” Vi interrupted. “All they do is talk about you. Oh, the port is here. A glass for Miss Hartwell.”

I so wanted to hold on to my annoyance, but Viola had always been so capable of making it impossible to stay angry. And her husband’s port was delicious.

“They might talk about me, but that doesn’t mean they have warmer feelings for me. And with the right lover, whatever combination of alphas and betas the Goddess wills, I should not be too proud to let the world know of my affection or…” I licked my lips. “My desire to…”

“To what?” Paxton asked from the doorway. I could see him and Jack in the mirror, which hung between the long windows that looked out over the entire expanse of the south lawn. I could smell them. Goddess, their scents crossed the room. Invaded my senses against all logic for how could I pick out their scents in a room populated by so many others?

“To what, Miss Hartwell?” Lord Paxton repeated his question.

“Being knotted.” Goddess, I revelled in how his pale cheeks took on a little colour and how his nostrils flared. Throwing this cold alpha off his game gave me a perverse pleasure even while I knew he would retaliate without warning.

“Do you think about being knotted often?” Jack asked.

“There is a dildo for that,” I taunted, half hoping I hadn't spoken aloud. What alpha would miss the challenge? They thrived when omegas engaged with their seduction. My damned tongue speaking before my brain considered the ramifications, how someone like him might interpret my words.

Mrs Markham coughed in an attempt to disguise her laugh.

“I bet there is. Do you have a collection?” Lord Paxton’s lit with a potent combination of mocking lust which dared me to answer him.

I nearly jumped out of my skin for I’d not realised he was so close. My focus had been on my mate who’d strode to my side as if he belonged there.

Nine and Twenty, I wanted to shout out. I was nearing my thirtieth year and suddenly unable to act like a rational creature. Again this alpha turned me all omega. Incapable of thinking about anything but knots and…