Page 40 of Mated to the Mad Marquess

“Er,” Susan said, fidgeting with her skirts. “Well yes, the operaandthe theater.”

“That so? The two of you must be very talented,” Hrafn said without feeling. Her gaze scanned the room more closely, taking in the damage on Elspeth’s hunting costume, the opened bottle of port. When they finally landed on Malcolm, those velvety brown irises nearly knocked him over.

He’d put a lot of effort into avoiding direct contact with her that week, sending Solis to handle her as needed, but it hadn’t dampened her effect on him one iota. It may have even made matters worse. His mouth went entirely dry, and he licked his lips.

“I’d like to hear a song,” Hrafn said, with a sidelong look at her mate before turning to face Margot.

Susan’s blue eyes went big and round. She engaged in a silent conversation with her partner comprised entirely of frowns and raised brows.

Margot rose from the sofa and cleared her throat loudly.

“Ancestors save us, we’re both getting murdered,” Susan muttered under her breath.

Margot broke into song, and Malcolm was immediately surprised that she carried a tune so elegantly. She’d sung at parties before, of course, but she was quite drunk then. Unfortunately, the tune was a bawdy number about a buxom barmaid, not one befitting the opera. Elspeth’s face scrunched up, holding in the urge to laugh. During the chorus, a snort slipped out, and the lady clapped a hand over her mouth to conceal it. The little shadows loved the music, bouncing in place to the beat. Clapa perched on Elspeth’s shoulder and danced there to the beat of her own tune.

Margot reached the second verse, and the buxom barmaid who lost her ribbon gained another bed partner. The song grew in volume along with her confidence. Hrafn listened with polite disinterest, casting glances at her mate until Margot’s song ended.

“Brava,” Elspeth said, clapping her hands together. The little shadows bounced boisterously. Clapa continued to dance even though the song had ended.

Margot bowed to her audience.

“Interesting,” Hrafn said flatly. “And you,” she said to Susan. “Recite a few lines for me. It’s been an age since I’ve seen a performance of any sort.”

Susan sucked in an unsteady breath then spoke at a rapid-fire pace, “Before I recite the only lines I can remember from ‘Lady Clicket played my blanket hornpipe ripe,’ I feel the urge to inform the room—the whole room, no one person in particular, mind you—that Margot and I remain dear,dearfriends of the Bloody Queen of Night herself. She would be so very disappointed if something orsomeone,” she said, shooting a glare over at Malcolm, “were to cause us any harm.”

Hrafn’s mouth quirked, and the creases near her eyes crinkled, and Malcolm was on to her game now.

Susan sucked in a breath, readying to recite gods only knew what. Malcolm cut her short with a raised hand. “Oh, thank the blazing stars,” she whimpered. “I can’t remember any lines from that dratted thing.”

“Is it even a play?” Margot asked.

“I read it in some scribbles I had to scrape off the wall of the toilet room once. I never pay attention when we go to the theater.”

“Hrafn isn’t going to hurt anyone,” Malcolm said, and his heart sunk unpleasantly. “She’s just toying with you.”

Hrafn’s wings arched in a shrug. “I really did enjoy your song, though,” she told Margot. “I’ll be going now.”

“You may as well lunch with us,” Malcolm said, failing to stifle the edge of hopefulness in his voice. Now that she was in his presence again, he wasn’t ready for her to leave it.

“No, thank you,” she said, face placid. “I don’t want to keep you from having your fun.” Then she turned on her heels and padded toward the parlor doors and the little shadows immediately fell in line and followed her like loyal ducklings.

Malcolm watched her go in a silence so heavy he could feel it pulling on his pointed ears. He caught Elspeth studying his warrior woman as she left with far too much interest.

“You’re staring,” he growled.

“Sorry, old man,” she said, shooting him one of her charming grins. Clapa continued to dance on her shoulder, humming a tune of her own making. “It’s impossible not to. Your mate has a presence. She’s sointense.”

Susan sidled in next to Malcolm, nodding her agreement. “She’s hard to miss, that’s for damn sure.”

“It’s the wings for me,” Margot cooed. “They do something to me.”

Malcolm knew immediately that his friends were needling him on purpose. He gave them exactly what they wanted anyway, growling and grousing under his breath, stirring up their giggles at his expense.

“Oh, stop looking so disappointed,” Susan soothed, locking her arm around his affectionately. She patted his shoulder.

“I’m not disappointed,” he grumped. Solis slumped on the rug beneath him.

“Oh yes, you are, and it’s unsettling,” Margot said, balling her fists up in her skirts.

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