Page 80 of Omega's Virtue: Part One (The Hartwell Sisters Saga 2)

“Leave off, Pax. Trix doesn’t need this—“

“No omega would want her mate,” Mrs Hartwell’s eyes dashed to where I sat next to Trix. “No omega would want her mate to loom over her. This isn’t the Dark Ages.”

“How astute. I’ve a good eye, madam. I can see a Wren church by daylight.” Pax dabbed his mouth with the linen napkin, inspected it, found it just as pristinely white as when he’d picked it up, and then lazily placed it back on his lap. Mrs Hartwell’s grip on her knife tightened until her knuckles turned white.

Hero laughed. “That was awfully clever. Wasn’t it Claude?”

“Didn’t get it,” Stimpson looked flushed, though whether from embarrassment or the wine I could not tell.

“Lord Paxton, did you just make a joke at my expense?” Mrs Hartwell straightened her shoulders.

“I merely commented on my eyesight.” Pax’s non-answer had her bristling with rage, but I knew he would not directly engage with the woman who had injured the two most important people in his life. How I knew that, I did not know. But it was as if I was in his head, I knew his every thought as I looked through his eyes. She’d made a powerful enemy today. Pax had promised me not to breathe a word to Beatrice of her mother’s perfidy, but if she dared to make any accusations, she’d wish she’d never been born. We were her alphas and would do anything to protect her from hurt. “But I would never presume to know what an omega might want without asking her first.”

“An omega’s virtue is their most valuable gift.” She tried again. “It it tantamount—“

“I won’t marry a beta whore!” Stimpson shouted.

Silence hovered around the room.

“What?” Viola asked. “This is madness. What are you talking about?”

“That’s right. Who would want a virtueless slattern? I thought you pure! But then…” he stood up so abruptly he overturned his chair. By rights, Hero, who sat next to him, should have screamed, had some reaction to his accusation and outburst but instead she sat there frozen, rigid like a statue. “You were seen with two men. Fucking!”

The sound he made was unnatural, but I kept my eyes on Hero. On her other side, her mother sat there silent, as white as a sheet. Beatrice gripped my hand tight; I squeezed hers in return.

“In the dining room!” He waved his arms. “Why do you think we are eating in the breakfast parlour?”

“How… How dare you?” Beatrice hissed. “How…”

The accusation was a horrible lie. Stimpson, or someone who’d told him, had seen us together. I’d gouge his eyes out for that alone, but to bring in an innocent Hero? And why?

“You’ve got it wrong!” Beatrice snarled, fury on her face. Pax grabbed her other wrist, pulled her into his lap, and slapped a hand over her mouth before she could say more.

“We all know this is a malicious falsehood.“ Viola pulled away from Orley who’d a hand around her upper arm.

“I’ll take her as damaged goods…” Stimpson sneered down at Hero, her face vacant, the only sign of life the few tears falling down her cheeks. “I’ll keep this dirty little secret—“

“Why are you saying these things?” Mrs Markham cried out.

“Out of this house! And if I hear one malicious word, a whiff of that lie, I shall make sure you—“ Orley snarled. “Get out you worthless scum.”

“Your Grace! You condone her treating your house like a brothel?” The worthless sonofabitch spat.

“Out.” The great Duke of Orley radiated alpha power and fury.

“How… How could you?” Hero’s question was soft, almost an afterthought in the silence after the duke’s order. “This isn’t right! You… It wasn’t meant to be like this!”

Stimpson’s nostrils flared as if scenting her. “Not even your fortune is worth a used cunt.”

Chaos erupted. The omegas stood as one, hissing, an almost feral sound, and their bodies tense with rage, eyes blazing like the Furies from mythology. I’d never seen what some called the Blaze. The most primal state of an omega, when they prepared to destroy any who threatened their loved ones. An alpha like Stimpson could never have the guts, balls, bravery, to stand up to such a unified display.

“Go,” Viola’s growl seemed to shake the room. “Your lies are not welcome here.”

“What? Some omega who got above her place?” Stimpson laughed hysterically.

Mrs Markham was closest and tossed her glass of canary in his face. He stumbled back trying to bat away her attack. “I’ll challenge you!” he growled, completely lost to the fact it was an omega, well into middle age, who’d throw the wine all over him.

Orley held Viola back, but it was Beatrice we missed. She slipped from between us and when she reached Stimpson, she’d had time to arm herself with a carving knife which lay on the sideboard. She pressed the point of the blade to his throat. “Take that malicious slander back if you want to live. Otherwise I’ll stick you like the pig you are.”

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