Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22

BENEDICT

I stare at the dance floor, watching as men pick up their new partners. Four dances now, and not one glimpse of Augusta or her aunt. Gritting my teeth, I watch as Lord Harhall shuffles about, his eyes darting to and fro.

What is that conniving abuser up to? I watch as he stalks the walls, making as little conversation as possible. The cad certainly looks guilty enough. I nudge Norhaven in the side and jerk my chin in the baron's direction.

"Have you seen Miss Hunt or her aunt?"

"Not since they left."

"Keep an eye out for them. I'm going to follow this prick and see what he's up to. If you find them, detain them. I will make sure they go home at once. I've had enough of this. There's far more important things I could be doing than watching my best friend's little sister."

"I'm sure," he murmurs, smothering a smile.

"And just what is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing other than I know the look of an alpha smitten with an omega."

"Bah, what would you know of it? I want to thrash the girl, not bed her."

"For us," he teases, "it is often one and the same."

I shove my friend away, refusing to acknowledge his point. "Just find them."

Once he takes off, leaving Miss Campbell with her chaperones, I stalk after Lord Harhall. Something about this just doesn't seem right. If he were planning on having a clandestine meeting, would he really be so bold as to do so here?

He makes his way down a lit corridor, his eyes darting back every so often. He's certainly up to something. Keeping myself to the shadows, I do my best not to alert him to my presence. Oddly enough, the door he takes leads to the outside.

Certainly no good will come of this. I know it in my gut. Yet, I still cannot keep from propelling myself forward. He's nowhere to be seen. The only other thing out here is a tall hedge surrounding a garden. Soft noises come from behind the plants, but I cannot make them out.

Dread drips along my spine as I step closer, picking out a soft, feminine sound. I know that sound. I hear it deep in the night as I try to go to sleep. I hear it bouncing around my skull as it follows me into my dreams.

Augusta.

No one should be drawing those gasps from her lips. Not even me, and certainly not here. Bursting into the garden, I hope to take the man unprepared. By the end of this, there will be pistols at dawn. I will kill anyone who dares to compromise this woman.

Yet, she's all alone. Her eyes widen as she sees me. But I know that look. It's the same look I've seen on the whores at The Rose and Thorne. What does she mean by this false sense of modesty?

"Where is he?" I growl, pacing about.

"Where is who?"

"Do not play coy with me. I know you came out here to meet the man. Now where is he?"

"In truth, I know not what you mean. No one else is here, save me."

My eyes drift over every inch of the garden, peering into the shadows as I do my best to make sense of every clump of branches and bits of overgrown grass. We are alone, it seems, as she says.

"What on earth are you thinking, being out here unchaperoned? Anyone could come and take advantage of you."

She drops her lashes against her cheek. "But there is only you here, Your Grace. Should I protect myself from you?"

Enough of this show. Storming over, I grab her elbow and haul her toward me. "What game are you playing at? I demand to know the meaning of your actions." When she stays silent, I grip her shoulders and shake her about, demanding she see reason. "Come, I must take you inside before someone sees us out here."

"It's far too late for that," Norhaven groans, motioning toward the growing crowd behind him.

Augusta's aunt hobbles over, her mouth hanging agape with shock. The others have similar looks interspersed with glee and malice. I knew tonight had an ill omen hanging over it.

Rubbing my hand against the back of my neck, I glower down at Augusta, who preens as prettily as the cat who lapped up all the cream with no remorse.

"You will stay silent and allow me to handle this."

With a quick quirk of her lips, she gives a slight bob, and thankfully keeps her lips shut.

"I demand to know the meaning of this," her aunt cries out loud. "My poor niece alone with you in this garden. It is not to be borne."

"Calm yourself, dear," I cajole as best as I can while keeping my temper in check. "I have made arrangements with Lord Hardon before he left that I am to be Lady Hunt's husband. I was merely stealing her away to let her know in person. My love for her could do nothing less."

Several gasps titter amongst the women as they fan themselves. The men, however, roll their eyes and shoot daggers at me with their angry glares. No doubt those women they've spoken with are now enamored at the idea of some clandestine tryst forcing them down the aisle.

Any time 'a true love match' happens in London, the omegas are simply beside themselves with longing and foolish notions. I detest that I have any part to play in this, making things far worse for my fellow Alphas. If I could, I would certainly apologize to those not looking to make a match.

Turning toward Augusta, I beam down at the woman who has connived to leg-shackle me. "She has agreed, though she has no choice. Her heart and mine are of one accord." Dipping my head lower, I continue where only she can hear me. "I hope you are well aware of what you're doing, you little minx. You wanted me so desperately, and now you have me. Every. Depraved. Inch."

Norhaven rushes to my side and claps his hand on my shoulder. "To the lucky Duke and Miss." Soft smatterings of cheers reach my ears, but I know not everyone is convinced this is true love, but yet a tryst gone wrong. "I am sure they must part and plan the upcoming nuptials," he continues before dragging me away as Augusta's aunt takes her to her side.

Furious, I walk after my friend, bumping into Lord Harhall. The moment I see his face, murderous rage simmers to the top. "You," I roar, glancing back to see all the onlookers shuffle far away. "You had some hand in this. Do not lie to me." Norhaven grabs me around my waist and holds me back as I claw at the rapscallion.

The man in question looks down at his nails, seemingly unbothered. "My such a temper," he tsks. "Careful, or you might get a reputation that is unbecoming."

"I already have my reputation. As do you."

"You see? You've already made up your mind to hate me. I do so wish we'd be friends. Think of the girls who would lie satiated in our wake."

"Butchered," you mean, Norhaven spits out, struggling to keep a firm hold on me.

"Oh? Is that what they say about me now? I'm flattered. Truly."

"What did you and Lady Hunt discuss on the dance floor? I demand to know."

"You demand? Why, of all the ungentlemanly things to ask. You know a true gentleman never tells. I will say, your new bride will be a spitfire. Good thing you got a hold of her before I did. But then, you are so good at breaking your toys, aren't you? Once she's used up, a shell of a woman, I will be the gentleman and piece her back together, only to shatter her again. Don't you think?"

"You animal," I snarl, clawing at Norhaven's arms.

"Forgive me. Would you rather we team up once more? For old time's sake? How much more enjoyable would your wedding night be if we both took up our knives and allowed our blades to kiss her flesh?"

"I can't hold him back much longer," Norhaven cries. "If you value your life, you will leave this place and never show your face again."

He tips his hat and nods. "Very hard to do around the hallowed halls of parliament. See you there, lads."

Norhaven's grip trembles as I rant and rave, doing my best to push him from me. Damn his military training. Damn his ability to put me into holds I cannot escape. But most of all, damn him for not allowing me to kill the odious wretch when I had the chance.

When he finally lets me go, I whirl toward him. No doubt my eyes blaze with the anger simmering inside. "You," I roar, running at him.

He steps to the side, forcing me to nearly fall as I miss him. "I do not wish to hurt you. Please, Portswell. You must come to your senses."

With another roar, I try again, only to have him step aside and push me back as if I'm nothing more than a pesky fly he must deal with.

"I want him gone," I cry, my words raw and ragged as they pour from my throat.

"As do I. Trust me. As do I."

"Then why do you thwart me? Why do you continue to stand in my way, time and time again?"

"Because you're my friend. And soon to be a husband. If you're to be locked up or executed for murder, who will take care of Miss Hunt? You have a responsibility to her. She is yours to protect now, whether you like it or not."

Picking myself off the ground, I look back over at the empty lawn. Protector indeed. Seems as if the strong-headed woman needs an intervention more than anything. If anything, the person she will need protection from is me.

She better hope my temper wanes by the time we are wed. If not, it will certainly be her backside to pay.

"Come," I bark out. "We must away to the Archbishop of Canterbury. I'm sure the good man will be absolutely thrilled to see me. But first, I have a few things I must attend to."

He groans but follows me. "You are not thinking of killing the blackguard after all, are you?"

"As my friend, I thought you would know me better than that."

"I do. It's honestly the best alternative than what could possibly be cooking up in your mind. You need to give her space. Allow the gossip and idle chatter to calm down."

"She trapped me, Norhaven. The chit has the audacity to trap me and thinks there will be no repercussion? She will not be sitting pretty for the wedding if I have anything to do with it."

"Do you love her?"

The question hovers on the air for several moments as I simply stare at the man. It's as if he's grown several heads in the span of a second or two.

"What do you mean, do I love her? She trapped me. How can someone… I mean… How can anyone…"

"I thought as much."

Unable to resist, I ball up my fist and punch my friend in the shoulder, sending him reeling away. With him caught off guard, I catch him about the middle and toss him to the ground. We both tussle about as if we were children again, allowing the steam to rise off of the situation.

After a bit, we both sit there, winded. Glancing over, I note his tousled hair and mussed clothes. He looks absolutely ridiculous. But then, so do I, no doubt. The laugh bursting from our chests is much needed, a break in the gathering tension.

All too soon, however, we both sober up.

"I must tell her brother."

"That, you must."

"He will hate me."

"He sees you as a brother. I doubt he will hate you."

"Worse then," I groan, plopping my head into my hands. "He will kill me."

Norhaven says nothing for a moment, but then tips his head back to gaze up at the stars. "I will ensure your funeral is one for the ages, old boy."