Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
TORION
The crackle of wheels on the brick was faint but sent me running out of the front door of the keep, nearly barreling into a young boy.
"Milord, they're coming—"
"It's clear enough he knows that, Freddy, now get out of his lordship's way!" a maid called from inside.
I paid them no mind, my eyes tracking the carriage slowly approaching the keep, my feet nearly stumbling in my haste to get down the steps.
It had been nearly a month since Brigid left the keep for her cottage, and even though I'd seen her there only a few days ago—the most recent of several regular visits—I was plenty eager to have her back here, even if it was only temporary.
Unless you can convince her to stay.
I shushed the thought, not wanting to raise my own hopes too high. Brigid was returning now out of a less than pleasant duty for us both, and the setting and company weren't likely to endear her to my goals of placing her back under my roof.
The carriage came to a rocking halt, and I shot a glare at the young porter, hurrying to beat him to opening the door.
My poor staff had seen the worst of me over the past few weeks, my moods cycling through a morose sulk after my returns from the cottage, a sour temper midway through the week, and an impatient fervor in the day or so leading up to when I might leave again.
None of those moods were present as I opened the carriage door to find Brigid's face flushed and wearing a slightly harried expression as she eagerly leapt out and into my arms.
"I'm sorry I wasn't able to come myself," I said first.
"You'd only have been stuck with pins too," Brigid said, rising up on her toes. I held her too close, and her body pressed temptingly against mine, an unnecessary reminder that I'd spent three days without her touch. As if I wasn't counting the minutes.
"Pins?" I asked, head spinning from my omega's proximity. It was like being able to breathe again, I only smelled the clean air of the hills I loved when Brigid was close, her clear perfume turning the heady senses of the world back on for me.
"A carriage is not an ideal place for a final fitting, Alpha Feargus," a stern voice called from the carriage.
My arm tightened around Brigid's waist as she tried to pull away from me, but she pushed me back to the open door and I recalled my manners, offering my hand for the older woman. She waved me away, only leaning out and pinning Brigid with a direct stare.
"I must hurry on to my shop to complete the rest of the order now. I'll send it on when complete, and you'll let me know if anything needs…adjusted later on?"
Brigid nodded, her smile wobbling in a way that made me tense. "Thank you, Mistress Baird."
I opened my own mouth to echo Brigid, but the door snapped shut and a rap was heard from inside, the driver hurrying to obey.
"She seems like a formidable woman," I noted, and Brigid sighed and leaned into me as the carriage circled the drive. "How are you?"
"Feeling a bit like a pincushion, but I'll recover now," Brigid said. She slipped out of reach before I could enclose her in my arms again, stepping back in front of me and holding out her arms. "But how do I look?"
My one track mind—a track whose only goal was being near Brigid again—took too long to put the pieces together, and Brigid started to fidget, smoothing her hands over her dress and plucking at the skirts.
"One of the maids will have to manage my hair, of course," she said, eyes darting over my shoulder.
Pins in the carriage, a school marm woman talking about fittings and—
I shook myself. The dress! She was wearing a new dress, one that'd been finished as recently as the carriage ride.
"You look magnificent," I said, hurrying to cover my blunder. Brigid huffed and rolled her eyes. "You do! Regal."
Her cheeks pinked, and I guessed I was on the right track.
I took a step closer to her, catching her chin in a gentle grip.
The words weren't lies, even if it didn't matter a whit to me what Brigid wore as long as she was within reach.
But the rust red dress was fitted perfectly—my compliments to Mistress Baird—and draped over her shoulders and around her waist, adding to curves I already loved so much, were two of the Feargus tartans, one new and in our hunting colors of brown and green with thin stripes of red and blue, and the other my mother's embellished dress tartan.
"You represent me well, Omega Feargus," I said, because I liked the way it felt to put my family name on her.
Brigid sighed at that and offered me a real smile, although there was something still skittish in her gaze that worried me.
"How long do we have?" Brigid asked, glancing over her shoulder to the road that lead to the keep.
"A handful of hours, and that's if no one arrives early," I said, recalling why I'd brought Brigid back to the keep.
"They will, no doubt," she said drily, catching my arm to slip hers through, turning and guiding me back inside.
"No doubt," I agreed, swallowing hard as Brigid nodded and smiled to the keep staff as she directed us both toward the stairs.
Brigid leaned more solidly into my side, tipping her head to my shoulder and lowering her voice. "Still. That might be enough time for us to—Torion!"
I laughed as she screeched, my arms scooping beneath her legs, my own carrying us up the stairs two at a time. "Oh plenty of time for…" I trailed off meaningfully and waggled my eyebrows.
"I was being subtle," Brigid hissed.
"There's nothing subtle about it when I'll have you screaming my name in under ten minutes," I answered, rushing for the bedroom. It was about damn time I had my omega back in our bed. Any betas who arrived early would just have to wait.
"Respectfully, Alpha Feargus, you don't seem to be taking this meeting very seriously," Francis Keane bit out.
Considering I caught myself smiling lazily for no reason at all, I couldn't exactly blame Keane for calling me out, even I questioned his motives.
Stifling my expression once mor and attempting to shake off some of the drowsy satisfaction still lingering in my body after my reunion with Brigid, I narrowed my eyes on Keane before slowly circling them around the table at the other betas.
We were holding our assembly in the library, a room that had been closed for a number of years, neglected by my parents disinterest. There'd been some damage from a cracked window, but Brigid had arranged for the repairs before the rut.
With the work complete, the room was restored to its former grandeur, ceiling beams elaborately carved, windows paned with stained glass, a fireplace roaring at the far end.
Rather than refurnish it with sofas and work tables, Brigid had instructed the staff to bring out one of the grand tables and turn the space into a meeting room for me. Clever witch.
I opened my mouth to respond to Keane, when I was swiftly interrupted.
"Respectfully, Beta Keane, some of the gentlemen here have brought rather pathetic complaints to our alpha."
I stirred in my seat, startled by the speech of support.
There were new faces here for the first time in decades—younger dragons who'd climbed in stature since my untraditional twist on the selection ceremony.
Samuel Cameron sat bristling at the far end of the table, his young face red with either temper or embarrassment or both, his eyes shooting daggers at many of the older betas.
Cameron was the beta chosen by the wealthy omega Emily Anderson, and it hadn't taken long for the young man's transformation to take place, from a rough and unfinished lad to a gentleman of consequence.
While I'd had some part in that transformation—namely, making sure the farm he'd inherited from his uncle got as much support and staff as it needed for repairs—I hadn't expected a show of loyalty.
"Pathetic?!" Lord McKinney squawked, hands slapping against the table.
"Tenancies that have gone all but fallow in the past two decades are now already restored and on schedule for harvesting," Cameron said, bucking his chin at the older man.
"Local merchants are happy. One man I know even called his son home from Skybern in expectation of better trade and needing help.
All in a few months of our alpha's reign.
And yet you speak to him of poor weather, felled trees, and a missing sheep or two, as if these are things any man might control. "
A few men shifted in their seats, perhaps chastised, but one halfway down the table turned his face to the back of the room and muttered under his breath.
I only made out the words "his witch" and "omega," but the men around him froze with nerves.
I took a moment to recall the man's name as the ripple seemed to circle around the table of betas.
"My omega is a healer, not a witch. Although I tease her often enough about her enchanting nature," I said, clearly and steadily. Superstitions were for old women and children, in my opinion, but even those who didn't believe might take up a rumor for the sake of ugliness.
"She may be nothing more than an omega, my lord, but you allow her to set a poor example for our daughters," Ben Danielson said. He was not a beta I knew well, but he was also not a recent thorn in my side, so I met his gaze and braced myself.
"In what way?" I asked, afraid I already knew the answer.
"Her leash is a little long, don't you think?" Francis Keane asked, eyebrows raising and turning to look around the table. "Out there alone in that ramshackle cottage, acting like some kind of changeling creature?"
In spite of the concerning turn of the conversation, I found my lips quirking at that depiction of Brigid.
"Omega Feargus is, as you all saw today, here at the keep.
She is also the most practical person I have ever met in my life, and as such, takes her responsibilities to both me, and her former community while she lived independently, with the utmost seriousness.
She has her own property to care for, but she by no means neglects her role at my side. "
Except for in the most personal ways, but I have the good sense not to force the issue, I added to myself.
The speech was as measured as I'd ever been in my life, and it seemed to appease some around the table, but I didn't miss the way many eyes slid in Malcolm Barr's direction where he sat stewing in the corner.
I wanted to shout that Barr had certainly abandoned Brigid in far more reprehensible ways than she had by retreating to her cottage, but there would be no point.
I'd said my piece. It was up to the men around the table to see reason, and in my experience that only happened if a man was already inclined to do so.
"As Beta Cameron has pointed out, I cannot control the weather, but I will be sure to send out men to your estate, Lord McKinney, to help with cleaning up the trees.
And to yours, Danielson, to repair fences.
We've had a record number of kids born this spring, and if your sheep can't be recovered, they can at least be replaced with my compliments.
" It was a more magnanimous offer than the fools deserved, and they seemed to realize as much because mouths remained shut this time.
"With these matters settled, may I recommend we retire for the day and enjoy the feast my omega has planned for you all. "
I rose from my seat and made eye contact with the men who opened their mouths from the corners to mutter to one another, until one by one, the betas filed from the room. Samuel Cameron was at the back of the pack, and I stepped to his side to make my exit with him.
"Thank you for speaking some sense," I said.
He looked more nervous now than he had telling off the whole room, and he glanced behind us. "I don't know what good it will have done. They don't take me seriously."
"All these men have money, loud opinions, and reputation. Keep using the first two now that you have them, and the third will come soon enough," I said, clapping the young man on the shoulder.
He snorted at that, and we slipped apart as we broke out of the hallway and into the great room, alive with candlelight and musicians, a number of staff ready to serve from jugs of mead and ale.
The tenor of our group brightened considerably at the sight, and I chewed at my own scowl as I caught sight of Brigid escorting McKinney and Danielson to a table, all their ire and skepticism vanished in the face of her beauty and smiles.
Fire burned proud in my chest. I'd never imagined what my omega might be.
My mother had been a flower at my father's side, adored by him and admired by other men, but she'd never been an active force in the keep.
Brigid was exquisite, precious, and an asset to me as alpha.
It didn't seem to matter what the men wanted to think of her.
When she turned in their direction, they flirted and blushed and let her guide them like lovestruck boys to their table.
An absurd grin spread over my face as I watched my prickly, defensive, skittish omega charm and cajole the men in the room, knowing she would never bother to sweet talk me in such a way. No, she would roll her eyes and boss me to my seat under her breath before turning a smile onto another man.
And I would carry on loving her as I had almost from the start.