Alexia opted for all three offerings and began to eat, starting with the Turkish delight. “So you are genuinely disposed toward adopting my child?” she asked Lord Akeldama between bites, and then looked at her husband. “And you are willing to allow it?”
The earl lost his amused attitude and knelt before his wife, looking up at her. He put his hands on her knees. Even through all her layers of skirts, Alexia could feel the wide roughness of his palms. “I’m taxing BUR and the pack to keep you safe, wife. I’ve even contemplated calling in the Coldsteam Guards.” Curse him for looking so handsome when he came over all bashful and sincere. It quite undid her resolve. “Not that I would do it any differently. I protect my own. But Queen Victoria would be livid if I pulled military strings in a personal matter. Well, more livid than she already is over my killing the potentate. We must be clever. They’re older and craftier and they’ll keep trying. We canna continue on like this for the rest of our child’s life.”
Perhaps he has learned something about pragmatism being married to me, Alexia thought. Oh, but why’d he have to turn all sensible now? She tried desperately not to fly into a tizzy over his unilateral handling of the situation. She knew that it cost Conall a terrible price to admit to any kind of inability. He liked to think he was all-powerful.
She cupped his cheek with her gloved hand. “But this is our baby.”
“Do you have a better solution?” It was an honest question. He was genuinely hoping she could think up an alternative.
Alexia shook her head, trying not to come over mawkish. Then she firmed up her mouth. “Very well.” She turned to Lord Akeldama. “If you intend to take possession of my child, then I’m moving in, too.”
Lord Akeldama didn’t miss a beat. He opened his arms wide as though to embrace her. “Darlingest of Alexias, welcome to the family.”
“You do realize I may have to take up residence in your other closet?”
“Sacrifices, sacrifices.”
“What? Absolutely not.” Lord Maccon stood and glared down at his wife.
Lady Maccon got that look on her face. “I’m already in London two nights a week for the Shadow Council. I’ll come in on Wednesday and stay through to Monday, spend the rest of the week at Woolsey.”
The earl could do math. “Two nights? You’ll give me two nights?! Unacceptable.”
Alexia wouldn’t budge. “You’re in town on BUR business most evenings yourself. You can see me then.”
“Alexia,” said Lord Maccon on a definite growl, “I refuse to petition for visiting rights with my own wife!”
“Tough cheese. I am also this child’s mother. You are forcing me to choose.”
“Perhaps, if I may?” Professor Lyall interjected.
Lord and Lady Maccon glowered at him. They enjoyed arguing with each other almost as much as they enjoyed any other intimate activity.
Professor Lyall called upon the sublime confidence of the truly urbane. “The house adjacent is to let. If Woolsey were to take it on as a town residence, my lord?.?.?.?? You and Lady Maccon could maintain a room here at Lord Akeldama’s but pretend to live next door. This would keep up the appearance of separation for when the child arrives. You, Lord Maccon, could spend meals and so forth with members of the pack while they are in town. Of course, parts of the month everyone would have to return to Woolsey for security purposes, and there’s hunting and runs to consider. But it might work, as a temporary compromise. For a decade or two.”
“Will the vampires object?” Alexia rather liked the idea. Woolsey Castle was a little too far outside of London for her taste, and those buttresses—positively excessive.
“I don’t believe so. Not if it is made absolutely clear that Lord Akeldama has complete parental control, proper documentation and all. And we manage to keep up pretenses.”
Lord Akeldama was amused. “Dolly, darling, so deliciously unprecedented—a wolf pack living directly next to a vampire such as moi.”
The earl frowned. “My marriage was also unprecedented.”
“True, true.” Lord Akeldama was on a roll. He swept to his feet, dumping the cat unceremoniously off his lap, and began sashaying about the room. This evening he wore highly polished oxblood boots and white velvet jodhpurs with a red riding jacket. It was all purely decorative. Vampires rarely rode—most horses would have none of it—and Lord Akeldama disdained the sport as disastrous to one’s hair. “Dolly, I adore this plan! Alexia, sugar drop, you must make over your town house to complement mine. Robin’s-egg blue with silver detailing, don’t you think? We could plant lilac bushes. I do so love lilac bushes.”
Professor Lyall was not to be sidetracked. “Do you believe it will work?”
“Robin’s-egg blue and silver? Of course. It will look divine.”
Alexia hid a smile.
“No.” Professor Lyall possessed infinite patience, whether dealing with Lord Maccon’s temper, Lord Akeldama’s purposeful obtuseness, or Lady Maccon’s antics. Being a Beta, Alexia figured, must be rather like being the world’s most tolerant butler. “Will having your vampire residence adjacent to a werewolf pack work?”
Lord Akeldama raised his monocle. Like Lyall’s spectacles, it was entirely artificial. But he did love the accessory so. He had several, set with different gemstones and in different metals to match any outfit.
The vampire regarded the two werewolves in his drawing room through the small circle of glass. “You are rather more civilized under my dear Alexia’s tutelage. I suppose it could be tolerated, so long as I do not have to dine with you. And, Lord Maccon, might we have words on the proper tying of a cravat? For my sanity’s sake?”