Chapter 4
CHAPTER 4
BENEDICT
I stare off into the hall where Lady Augusta races off, my mind in a whirl. How could the chit have taken offense at my words? I've shared breakfast with them far more times than I can even hope to count, and never once did we have an interaction like that before.
A sliver of fear races down my spine as I sniff the air. The piquant scent of ginger, mixed with hints of green tea and some unnamable spice drifts through the air like snow flitting about on the ground. My cock stirs at the heady mixture. But in God's name, why? Nothing about her scent has called to me before.
Again, I sniff, my heart clenching. But no, she's not quite at her heat. That much is clear, at least. Could such outbursts be a sign that she's approaching that dreadful day, though? Thankfully, my sisters still have a few years yet, but I still worry about them finding husbands before that time.
Shaking my head, I drag my hand down my face, doing my best to dispel the intoxicating aroma threatening to overwhelm me. Underneath her natural scent is a hint of anger, a bite of spite. That must be what's calling to me and not the girl herself. The part of me that longs to chase someone down and consume them surges to the forefront, begging me to drag her underneath my imposing frame and demand her submission.
Nothing more. Nothing less. Such needs are easily met at The Rose and Thorne. Though I've been denying myself since I cannot have exactly what I want, it seems to be to my detriment. Of all the people to stir my lusts and ire, it's should not her. Nothing about this sweet morsel should appeal to me.
Today's outburst aside, she's far too saccharine and compliant to appeal to my darker lusts. Rolling my shoulders to ease the tension gathering there, I vow to find some other outlet for my afflictions. Maybe a hunt is what I need. But then, the way society dictates I do it, it's not nearly savage enough for my liking.
Forcing my thoughts away from errant desires, I slather some jam on my bread and turn to my friend. "Have you given any thought to your sister's... arriving condition?"
With a heavy sigh, he plants his head in his hands. "I think about it far more often as of late. There's just something odd about her I can't place. She's sullen, moody, and not given to much merriment. Not like when she was younger. Do you suppose she's that close to her time? She's my only sister and I do my best to stay away from other omegas who could possibly trap me."
"Since I am not a physician, I cannot say. I have certainly scented an omega in heat before and have even helped with their affliction. Thankfully, she doesn't have that shift in change yet. But there's no telling when that might happen."
Again, he groans and shakes his head. Distress wafts off of Lord Hardon, and I wish I could put him at ease. But I cannot. Soon, it will be my turn to deal with my younger sisters, and very few will be able to assist me. I won't allow anyone near until they're married.
Trying my best to comfort him, I clap his shoulder. "I have heard tales of special apothecaries who make tinctures and potions to help stave off such afflictions. I know many governesses who employ suppressants to keep from entrapping members of the household."
"Yes, but usually by that point, they're spinsters. Augusta isn't near that. Though she's eighteen, her date of birth has not long passed. She's still bright and eager to join the marriage mart."
I snort as I bring up my cup of coffee. "Eager? You know this?"
Lord Hardon frowns as he sips from his own cup. "Has she given you any reason to doubt it? What girl at her age wouldn't wish to settle down and have a family? She's old enough. Any longer and she'll have to worry about spinsterhood."
Shaking my head, I look over to where she ran out of the room, my gut twisting for a moment. "No. She has not confided in me. But if she's as sullen as you say, coupled with that outburst. I worry there's something going on with her. Maybe she fears the change of marriage?"
"Hmm. That could be. I'll observe her while out and about at Hyde Park if she recovers. Hopefully that will tell the tale."
"Tell me, truly. Why have you invited me here for breakfast? Surely you can escort your sister without my help."
"I haven't laid eyes on you since we arrived in London. Can't a friend wish to dine with his acquaintances?"
A laugh rumbles in my chest as I narrow my eyes at him. "I've been at our favorite establishment lo these many weeks. Would that not have been a far more enjoyable place to meet?"
His head whips to the side, ensuring his sister is still not in earshot. "Care to announce it to the entire world?" he hisses.
Winking, I move to stand, brushing off my trousers. "Your secret is safe, my friend. Even if your sister was listening in, it's not as if she knows the location. Nothing is amiss. Though I dare say you both are a bit more fractious than normal. Something else is wrong, isn't there?"
A heavy sigh fills the room as he once more plops his head in his hands. "Father left me ill-equipped to oversee our estates. Though my duties do not even come close to encompassing yours, it's still a burden I do not feel prepared for."
We both take a moment of silence as he mourns the passing of his parents. Though it's been at least a year now, I know he still feels the loss keenly. Truth be told, his family is holding up far better than expected.
To lose one parent is hard enough. To lose both in one fell swoop… It's a miracle he's even functioning as well as he is. I'm sure they both thought they had more time. More time to train him, more time to prepare Miss Hunt to take on the marriage mart. It makes me all the more protective of my sisters and the time they spend at Mother's feet.
At least with me, I was trained night and day for my role as future duke. When Father succumbed to consumption, I was more than ready to fill his place. Granted, where he was gentle in his commands, I'm his opposite. So I suppose there could be an argument that I'm still not ready.
"If you have need of assistance-"
"No, Portswell. I thank you for your consideration. I have things well enough in hand. There's just far more to juggle now that it's the Season. Honestly, it's why I brought you here in the first place."
"Oh?" Intrigued, I lean forward, curiosity eating at me. "And what can I assist with that's specific to this time of year?"
"I must away to the country to see to the estates and parishes. Seems there has been a slew of unlucky circumstances plaguing my people and their crops. A skirmish has broken out on my lands that the military saw to. That part isn't uncommon enough, but they trampled through the fields, ruining crops and animals. Those I oversee are in dire straits."
A stern frown tilts my lips as I run my hand over my chin. Far too common, as he said. Thankfully, no one has disrupted my part of the country. But then, it's far vaster than Hardon's. At least by four or five times. With holdings this massive, I can stand a few bits of horseflesh mucking it about better than he can.
"That is serious indeed. A veritable Goliath versus David situation. Has the crown assisted? Do you need me to send aid? Perhaps one of the others-"
"No, no," he says quickly. "What I need is something far more serious. Something I cannot ask of the crown or many others. I need you to watch over Augusta in my stead."
Shock reels me, forcing me to lean back. I was more than prepared to send crops, food, and workers. But this? Not that I'm planning on doing my own searching for a bride this Season, but there's far more I had planned to do than watch some debutant.
"I am to be her guardian?" I clarify, leaning forward as if I hadn't heard him correctly. "But that's preposterous."
"Good heavens, no. She has her aunt for that. What I need is more of a watchful eye when they're out and about at balls. You're like me and carry similar… predilections. You know who is suitable and who is not. I cannot be there to make the match, and I don't expect you to speak in my stead, but you can certainly steer her toward those not in our peculiar ilk."
A devious smile curls my lips. Lowering my voice, I take note of where the servants are before speaking. "You mean those who do not derive pleasure from the... discomfort, to put it delicately, of others?"
He, too, whips his head around. "Yes, yes. You know precisely what I mean. I do not wish my sister to become prey to one like us."
Oh, if my friend only knew. I am like him in spirit, but the desires run far darker. However, it doesn't mean I can't bait the bear a touch. What else are friends for?
"I don't know, Hardon. She might like such an arrangement."
A moment or two of silence passes before we both nearly topple over with laughter. To think of the gentle, mild Miss Hunt craving the darker touch my friends and I can provide. Why the mental image alone is simply preposterous.
"I thank you, Portswell," he eventually hiccups. "I needed a spot of merriment."
Wrapping my arm around the waist, I stand and bend low, giving him a flourishing bow. "I live to serve, my lord."
An ungentlemanly snort vibrates through his nose. "The moment you serve anyone is the moment All of England becomes swallowed up by the Thames."
"Careful now. You do not wish to bring upon unneeded destruction, now do you?"
His demeanor sobers as he fondles his cup. "Never pegged you for the superstitious type."
"I'm not, but even I have my limits. Inclement weather is one of them. We already had an unseasonably cold snap when we visited Norhaven for Twelfth Night. I do not wish to call upon the wrath of Hera when we're already still a bit bundled to the gills."
"Fair enough," he chuckles, draining the rest of his coffee. "Fair enough."
After a few moments of silence, I stretch, feeling oddly uncomfortable and tight about the shoulders. Something feels off, but I cannot put my finger on it. Perhaps it's just the distress of knowing my friend will have to make haste back home, leaving his sister here with no one to attend to her other than an old aunt.
It's good he has others of her age and rank to come visit. To my remembrance, Miss Hunt seemed a bit reclusive growing up, satisfying herself with bouts of running through the grasses and dipping her toes into the water. She preferred the company of frogs over female friends, and as the only daughter to the late Viscount and his Viscountess, she was in desperate want of companionship.
Granted, as she grew, such boyish actions faded, transforming her into the woman upstairs recovering in her room. The Viscountess must have imparted some sort of femininity onto her before her sudden demise to allow Miss Hunt to move with such grace. Granted, her earlier outburst certainly hailed back to a far more primitive time.
Sigh heavy on my lips, I lay a hand on Hardon's shoulder. "Could it be your sister acts out because she had no maternal influence to help her through the Season?"
"I haven't thought about that. She hasn't mentioned it, if that's what you mean. But now that you say it, I can't help but wonder. Her moods have been far more mercurial. Certainly more so after their death. But it's been a year or so. She should be passed it. No?"
"Have you even met a woman? They hold on to the most sentimental things. A death is not easily forgotten. It would do you well to make sure there are no surprises headed your way after you're gone. I can most certainly use my influence to have her meet the proper type of man, but even I am helpless against a sudden fit of pique. I only know one way to cure that, and it is ill advisable for me to act as such to your sister."
"Damn it man," he barks out, a hint of laughter in his tone. "I wish for you to assist the girl. Not break her."
"Knowing her delicate disposition, she will crumple far quicker than I have the patience for. Better to make sure she's mentally well situated before you leave."
His lips turn down into a frown as he studies the empty room. "I shall see how she fares. The London air should help put her back to rights."
Again, I study my friend, noting the slump to his shoulders. "There's something else. Isn't there? Something you wish to speak of elsewhere?"
He turns his face to mine, his lips thinning. "You know me far too well for your own good, Portswell. But I cannot discuss it here and now. I have invited Norhaven and his brother Whiteport, and Redleigh to bring their sisters and ward with them to give my sister some much-needed company. I will confide in you then."
Curiosity eats at me as he rises and sees to his sister. It all sounds sinister indeed. Hopefully it's not something that cannot be rectified.