Chapter 26

CHAPTER 26

BENEDICT

I t's right for my friends to be alarmed at the proclamation. In truth, it is why I was wishing to wait until we were all on a leisurely stroll before I confided in them. Out in public, they were less likely to make a scene.

Not that I blame Augusta. She truly didn't know, and I didn't think to tell her. Seems as if there are a lot of things I've never considered before that I will have to be aware of.

"How exciting," Madam Foxford cries, buttering her bread. "And when did this engagement take place? I dare say I regret not being in attendance."

Augusta remains silent beside me, no doubt wishing to avoid any other bits of confrontation. For the first time since I've known her, she seems almost fractious.

Does she truly think me a horrible ogre? Granted, with the way I've dragged out her punishment, I can see where she might be a bit apprehensive. But it's not as if I've beaten the girl in anger or forced her to go hungry.

With a deep sigh, I push my plate away, no longer desiring the food in front of me. "Six days ago." It was going to come out eventually, so no harm in telling them now.

Again, my friends look up, glaring at me as they stab their meats. They don't have to say a word. I feel the recrimination wafting from them like the stench from the Thames when the tide brings in the dead.

Would they think any differently once they know the circumstances? That it was Augusta herself who trapped me? Not that I didn't have a hand in her growing infatuation. But that's neither here nor there.

"Oh. Oh my," Madam Foxford says, "turning her attention back to her breakfast. "So soon." With a bright smile, she looks back over at Augusta, as if the timeline is completely reasonable and valid. "And are you ready for tomorrow? Is there anything left for us to do or help you with?"

My heart nearly breaks as I see the expression on my young bride's face. Such hope. Such longing. In truth, I've had very little to do with the wedding plans, seeing as it is her job to make the day as she likes. But now I wonder if I've left her a great burden without my help.

"My dress and," she pauses, a light blush fanning her face. "My trousseau seems to be almost complete. In fact, once we finish our promenade, I was hoping to go by and check on them."

"Well, of course, we'll come with you," Madam Birchleigh exclaims, her face brightening. "That is, if you want company. I'm not sure if you and your aunt would prefer some time alone before this momentous day. And I speak for all of us when I say we should like to see the church and how it is prepared. I'm sure it's absolutely lovely. Any special flowers or colors?"

"Oh," she stammers, looking down at the table. Her fingers grip the table linen as she searches for words. "As far as flowers and colors…" She trails off for a second then changes direction. "If you wish to see it. I suppose that should be fine. What do you think, Aunt Amelia?" Augusta looks over at her aunt, a helpless expression on her face.

Damn me for being so consumed that I left my poor omega to suffer this burden alone. Even now, the others glare at me, showing me my faults. I'll make it up to her tonight. Instead of tormenting her as I normally do, I'll give her the relief she seeks without any retaliation in the marriage bed.

Her aunt pats her hand and beams at the others. "We would be delighted with the company and the extra set of eyes of ones so esteemed. Personally, I think the church is lovely, but these old eyes might miss a thing or two. We have it filled with local flowers and greenery. We chose green as the theme, seeing as that is what is in season and will match her dress to perfection."

"Your eyes are not old, Amelia," Augusta murmurs, squeezing the elderly woman's hands. "They're perfect the way they are."

The women sigh, their sentimental sensibilities melting at the exchange. As if they haven't just had their own nuptials. Miss Campbell and Miss Cappelli, I can understand. They're still unwed and looking to their own day. Even Madam Birchleigh is remiss seeing as her vows were done as an elopement. But the other two, I do not understand.

With a soft smile and questing hand, Madam Blackport gathers her husband's attention. "I too would love to go with them. If that, of course, is agreeable with you."

He gives her an indulgent smile and a squeeze of the hand. "Of course you may. We need at least one voice of reason amongst the lot."

The women giggle, but Augusta simply looks on with a bewildered expression. For one so defiant, she's still so innocent. Once she's wed, I hope the others will take her into the fold, showing her she's not alone in the darker appetites of us Alphas.

I'm not daft. I know women talk, especially married women. It would be nice for my wife to have friends of her own she can confide in if need be. I can only hope their gossip remains amongst them and doesn't spill out inappropriately.

Again, I stare at my woman, my heart squeezing in my chest. Her innocence shouldn't cause my cock to swell at the breakfast table, but it does. In its wake, I think of the mornings to follow where we can break our fast leisurely in our bedrooms, only coming down when propriety dictates.

When she turns back to her food, it's then I notice the darkness under her eyes despite her attempt to conceal it with powder. I really have been a right odious cad. Has her pallor always been such?

She shifts as she tries to eat, and I know the dilator is causing her a bit of discomfort. This won't do at all. The rest of the breakfast goes by with the others regaling us of their honeymoons and the antics of the country.

"Of course, his sisters are convinced I had been abducted and their brother carried me home in a blaze of glory," Madam Birchleigh giggles.

Next to her, Birchleigh groans and crosses himself. "If Margaret stops mooning about the halls like a love-sick calf, it will be too soon. I swear the girl has taken the complete opposite idea and is idolizing the whole affair. I fear she'll be carried off and it will only be us to blame."

Blackport snorts as he rips his bread. "‘Twasn't your brightest notion, brother. Thankfully Elizabeth has enough sense not to romanticize it."

"No," he agrees. "But I don't like the fear in which she travels down the halls. Between the two of them, you'd think there would be a meeting in the middle."

"Begging your pardon," Augusta pipes up. "But someone was kidnapped?"

The rest of the breakfast carries on in a flurry of stories as the brothers talk over each other to regale the newest omega to the flock with their tales. By the time they're done, breakfast is concluded, and my intended is smiling once more.

"Now then. Let us away to Hyde Park so all may know of your return."

As we file out, I grab Augusta by the elbow and murmur in her ear. "You've suffered enough for today. Excuse yourself so you can remove the dilator, then come join us. You need not wear it the rest of the day."

She beams at me and kisses my cheek, stealing this moment we have in private. She's so eager and easy to please. Unfortunately, all it does is make me dread tomorrow. Will I be gentle enough with her? Shaking the thought away, I wait for her to come back down so we can sojourn to the park.

The women gather around, no doubt talking about the wedding. The men, however, have a far different nature of conversation that must happen.

"When you returned home, did you receive a peculiar correspondence?" I inquire, wishing to know just how far this corruptor is spreading their net.

"Yes," the others agree, their expressions sober.

Whiteport rolls his shoulders and pops his neck. "Seems as if we've all received one then. Including Lord Hardon simply by being associated with Portswell."

"So we are indeed being targeted," Birchleigh murmurs, glancing behind at his wife. "Any new word?"

"No. It is as if they are dead," I muse, looking out over the other people walking about.

Whiteport runs his fingers over his lips. "Parliament is heating up. I'm sure if there is an actual threat, more word will come anon."

"It's that bastard Lord Harhall," I growl, the possessive urge to grab Augusta and haul her to my side beating at me.

"You have proof?" Whiteport asks. "Or is it your cock that comes up with that answer?"

I snarl and turn away, not wishing to answer him. Unfortunately, my silence is answer enough as snickers of laughter fill the air.

"Let's forget about all this unpleasantness," Foxford booms, sliding in next to me. "Tonight is your last night as a man not yet leg shackled. We must celebrate with a stag night."

"Hear hear!" they all cry clambering around me.

"But what of the women?"

Foxford waves me off. "They will amuse themselves. Besides, I think they're rather smitten with your intended. They will, of course, wish to know everything about her. It should be Miss Hunt you worry about and not our wives."

Birchleigh grinds his teeth. "Have you met your wife, my good sir? We should all worry as to what mischief they might come up to."

"My wife?" Foxford cries. "And yours? Do not act as if yours is so innocent."

Next to them, Blackport preens. "Thankfully, my wife will be in attendance. She will, of course, be a good chaperone to the group."

Birchleigh and Foxford turn on him, their eyes narrowing. "And yet, yours was disciplined far more than ours. The woman misbehaved on purpose."

"Yes," he seethes, "but that was only because she didn't understand her needs and wants. I assure you. She's far more placid and well adjusted."

"Good Lord," I cry out. "Listen to you all. Is this what is to become of me? Clucking about like a hen after her chicks?"

"Yes," Foxford grins. "Only about a thousand pounds lighter. Speak in earnest. Is that the reason you did not tell us?"

"As if a thousand pounds is enough to frighten me away," I snort, rolling my eyes at the stupid bet we all made. "It's more the nature of how I became engaged."

"I trust you will tell us the tale at your stag party. Correct?" Blackport asks before glaring at Norhaven, Whiteport, and Redleigh in turn. "And I suppose you three will offer an explanation as to why none of you said a word as well?"

Norhaven shrugs. "I assumed Portswell would do it. It isn't my news to tell."

"I've been far too busy keeping my ward in line to truly care about the nuptials," Redleigh supplies.

Whiteport gives them a lascivious grin. "And I've been far too busy in lady's skirts to inquire as to your knowledge of these happenings."

"Fair enough," Blackport sighs. "But tonight, I wish to hear all of it. And we will discuss the other matter in a bit more detail where listening ears and wagging tongues may not carry news off into the wind."

We all sober and walk in silence as the women titter behind oblivious to the burden we carry. They will never know, because that Sisyphean boulder is ours and ours alone. Tossing a glance over my shoulder, I meet Augusta's gaze.

Her cheeks are red with mirth as she smiles and laughs along with the others. For their company, I am grateful. Even now, as I watch her, my heart constricts with an odd sensation. Could it truly be love?

No more do I wish to sit at my pianoforte and bang away on the keys as ennui drips through my veins. She gives me something to look forward to, an excitement I never had before. Being married to Augusta Hunt is sure to change my life forever. Hopefully, for the good.