If only Albion were less intent on emulating London’s most frivolous denizens. Then, she would have thought him one of the most fascinating men she’d ever met.
CHAPTER TWO
“Sufficient time as bachelors.” Albion reached for the tiered silver tray on the sideboard by his mother’s Chesterfield sofa. He popped a plump blueberry into his mouth. “Can you believe Lady Talridge’s cheek? Stuff it all if one would think Dunc and I are moldering away like cast-off hermits.”
Albion was visiting his mother in the parlor of her Park Lane townhouse, a leisurely call before attending to his business for the day. She sat in the window seat overlooking the rain-speckled snapdragons and calla lilies in her garden, thriving in a sunlit break from the day’s storm. Her somber features, considered refined in the human and Orcan worlds, relaxed somewhat when it was just the two of them.
“I must agree with Lady Talridge,” she commented, tucking her crocheted shawl tighter over her shoulders. “The siren call of marriage is in the air. I doubt it will be long until your brother commits.”
“Dunc!” Albion said with mock dismay. “I know Iris is fond of him, but are you sure she’ll tolerate his grousing? Then again, I suppose we are all daft when it comes to matters of the heart.”
Mother touched her low chignon. As a widow, she wouldn’t wear her black hair loose, the customary style of Orcan women, for another year at minimum.
“Might I hope Duncan will allow himself to be happy? And you, as well. How long until you follow your brother’s lead?”
“Have you ever known me to do such a thing?”
“You can’t remain a bachelor in your leased set forever.”
“I moved in but six months ago.” He liked his apartments at the Albany, a fashionable residence in St. James near high-end game rooms and music halls. “Anyway, why not? Someone went to such trouble to name the place in my honor.”
“You are the toast of London, Albie, but ‘tis merely a coincidence.”
“A pleasant coincidence, though. Wouldn’t you say?”
“The Albany may suffice for now, but you require a more permanent situation. Have you not found a woman you desire to wed?”
Deuces if memories of Diana Stewart didn’t flicker in his mind just then: her captivating gaze, the energetic lilt in her voice, and her complexion positively glowing in the rosy candlelight. Her golden ringlets had been a tad askew, but all the more charming for it.
Apparently, Lady Diana had only recently returned to London after spending months on the American continent. Diana had fallen victim to some whispering campaign regarding her virtue, the details of which remained foggy to his recollection. As a result, her parents had shipped her across the ocean, palming her off on some unsuspecting relation like a piece of expensive but unusable furniture.
Last season, they’d chatted easily enough, the agreeable if shallow chatter of two young people. But had her sapphire eyes been so brilliant? Her commentary delivered as confidently?
No matter. At the moment, he was in no position to consider marriage.
“I don’t know that I am inclined to wed any time soon,” Albion said mildly, “given that I reside in London and you will undoubtedly insist on an Orcan woman as a bride.”
“Nothing would give me greater pleasure.”
“There it is, then.” Orcan parents left the choice of partner to their child. That did not mean they would notprefera pairing of their choosing. “I see little point in discussing nuptials. I was under the impression the decision to marry or not was mine alone.”
“What one wishes and what is best are two different issues entirely,” she told him. “Your father’s greatest wish was to maintain peace between our world and the humans. I now allow that there is no better way to do so than through marriage.”
“Mother! I never thought you’d suggest such a thing.”
“You are held in high regard here. Some human lady or another must have set her sights on you. After all, their main purpose is to attract a husband. Any predator worth its salt perfects the capture of their preferred prey.”
“Your assessment is rather harsh,” Albion commented, rising to his feet and resting an elbow on her white marble mantel. “I enjoy the companionship of humans. Particularly ladies.”
“Even when they ask ridiculous questions?” Mother’s voice rose an octave. “Have we the same anatomy, except for claws and horns? The same love of conviviality and domestic contentment?”
“The longer I live in London, the more ladies I meet who strive for something beyond marriage. Like Orcan women, one might say.”
His mother looked wistfully out the broad bay window. The southern light shining on her garden was markedly different from the iron gray of their home in the north.
“I am doing a poor job of expressing myself. I meant to say that if you were to find a human woman with whom you wanted to mate, I would not object.”
Albion toyed with a trinket on the mantel, a wooden figurine of a dire wolf carved to emphasize its fierce profile. His heavy top boot tapped the lush Turkish carpeting.
