fruit basket
arranged about the crown. Fake grapes spilled down and over one side, dangling almost to Ivy’s pert little chin.
“Fiddlesticks,” said Lady Maccon to Professor Lyall. “Am I ever going to make it to my meeting?”
Lyall took that as a hint and turned to go. Unless, of course, he was fleeing from the hat. His mistress stopped him.
“I truly do appreciate your unexpected intervention just now. I did not think he would actually attack.”
Professor Lyall looked at his Alpha’s mate thoughtfully. It was a rare unguarded look, his face free of its customary glassicals,
his mild hazel eyes puzzled. “Why unexpected? Didn’t you think I was capable of defending you in Conall’s place?”
Lady Maccon shook her head. It was true she had never had much confidence in the physical abilities of her husband’s Beta,
with his slight frame and professorial ways. Lord Maccon was massive and treelike; Professor Lyall was built more on the shrub
scale. But that wasn’t what she had meant. “Oh no, unexpected because I had assumed you would be with my husband tonight,
if this BUR problem is so very bad.”
Professor Lyall nodded.
Lady Maccon tried one last time. “I don’t suppose it was the arrival of the regiment that had my husband in a dither?”
“No. He knew the regiment was due in; he sent me to meet them at the station.”
“Oh, he did, did he? And he did not see fit to inform me?”
Lyall, realizing he might have just gotten his Alpha into some very hot water indeed, dissembled. “I believe he was under
the impression you knew. It was the dewan who ordered the military recall. Withdrawal papers came through the Shadow Council
several months ago.”
Alexia frowned. She remembered vaguely the potentate arguing vociferously with the dewan on this subject at the beginning
of her stint as muhjah. The dewan had won, since the strength of Queen Victoria’s regiments and the building of her empire
was dependent upon her alliance with the packs. The vampires held controlling interest in the East India Company and its mercenary
troops, of course, but this had been a matter for the regulars and so the werewolves. Still, Lady Maccon had not realized
the results of that decision would end up encamping on her doorstep.
“Don’t they have a proper barracks somewhere they should be shambling off to?”
“Yes, but it is tradition for them all to stay here for several weeks while the pack re-forms—before the daylight soldiers
head homeward.”
Lady Maccon watched Ivy wend her way through the chaos of military tents and baggage. She moved with such purpose it was as
though she walked with exclamation marks. Hydrodine engines emitted small puffs of yellow smoke at her as she passed and compressed
expansion tent stakes hissed as they were pulled prematurely from the ground. All were now being taken back down and moved
around the side of the house and into Woolsey’s extensive grounds.
“Have I mentioned recently how much I dislike tradition?” Alexia said, and then panicked. “Are we expected to feed them all?”
The grape bunches bobbed in time with Ivy’s rapidly mincing footsteps. She did not even pause to investigate the disarray.
She was clearly
in a hurry
, which meant Ivy had
news of note.
“Rumpet knows what to do. Don’t concern yourself,” advised Professor Lyall.
“You really cannot tell me what is going on? He was up so very early, and Formerly Merriway was definitely involved.”
“Who, Rumpet?”
That earned the Beta a look of profound disgust.
“Lord Maccon did not inform me of the particulars,” Professor Lyall admitted.
Lady Maccon frowned. “And Formerly Merriway won’t. You know how she gets, all-over nervous and floaty.”
Ivy attained the steps to the front door.
As she neared, Professor Lyall said hastily, “If you will excuse me, my lady, I should be getting on.”
He bowed to Miss Hisselpenny and vanished around the corner of
Carmen Caine, Madison Adler