Waistcoats & Weaponry
Page 77
“Stay with you? While you deal with the Kingair Pack?”
“No, Miss Temminnick, I don’t believe you take my meaning. He’ll have to stay with me for a long time. I’m a loner, I have no pack, neither does he, but as I’ve shifted him”—there was pride in the dewan’s voice; to metamorphose a new werewolf successfully was rare—“he must stay with me to learn control. It’s my responsibility to teach him.”
“How long will it take?” Sophronia was simply glad Soap wasn’t dead. Separation seemed a paltry price to pay.
“Years, even decades.”
That is a long time.
“It depends on who he is.”
That part, Sophronia could answer. “He’s a good man, my lord. You’ll like him. Smart and capable and hardworking and funny and fun and a leader, in his way, and…”
“I understand, Miss Temminnick,” and he sounded as if he understood more than he let on, more than just her words, “but sometimes men are different as wolves.”
“Not my Soap.”
“We shall see.” The dewan finished with the rag and tossed it aside. If the cold night air gave him any trouble, he didn’t show it. “I might have to keep him a secret, for a while.” He didn’t explain the statement, but Sophronia smelled werewolf politics all over it. “I trust you and your friends will be discreet?”
Sophronia arched a brow at him. “Intelligencer trained, my lord.”
He chuckled as if at a joke, then sobered. “I won’t hold you to our bargain. A new werewolf is gift enough. It happens so rarely.”
Sophronia was honestly surprised and even a little touched. “I keep my word, my lord. In this, if nothing else. If you’ll only allow me to finish my schooling first?” Plus, I have Picklemen to thwart. Like it or not, with one bullet Duke Golborne had decided Sophronia’s position. Every part of her was now bent on undermining his plans. She no longer cared what the Picklemen intended, she was going to stop them. No one shot her Soap!
Captain Niall said, from where he was sitting with Sidheag nearby, “I’d take her up on it, my lord. You’ll be a good fit, all three of you.”
The dewan nodded. “Very well. Patronage it is. And don’t think I’ve forgotten your commitment, Captain. We need to get back on the run as soon as this new pup has mastered his paws.”
Sophronia asked, too casually, “Why do you need Captain Niall, sir?”
“No hidden agenda there, little spy. He’s to take over as Alpha of Kingair. Always was the intent. I can’t leave them leaderless, not as I’m shipping them out with the Coldsteam Guards in a month. Exile as punishment for attempted treason. India is the best place for them, fighting on the front. Keep them distracted from their little plots. Keep them away from Lord Maccon.”
Sophronia was confused. “But much as I respect the captain, he told us he isn’t a real Alpha.” He’d said as much to the students on several occasions, without any shame. Some werewolves were Alphas, some weren’t. Only Alphas think it matters. Frankly, I prefer not, he’d said. Alphas tend not to live all that long.
“No, but he’s the best loner I’ve got in England right now. And he is a passing good military captain.”
“Oh, thank you kindly, dewan.” Captain Niall did not look particularly upset by the insult. Perhaps it wasn’t an insult.
As the dewan was to be her patron, Sophronia figured he might as well get accustomed to her questioning him, so she said, “But Captain Niall didn’t do anything wrong! It isn’t fair that he be punished with them.”
“All too often, being a werewolf isn’t fair. Your friend there will have to learn that soon, too.”
Sophronia reflected on her own reaction to Soap’s affections. “I think that’s one thing he’s accustomed to already, my lord.”
The dewan said, “I think we can move him now.”
“I have a suggestion,” said Sophronia. “If we could find some coal and get that train up and running—why not just take it north, as we intended? You can travel during the day and night that way, and won’t lose time tonight while Soap sleeps. You’ll have to take Sidheag with you, of course. She knows how to drive the train.”
The dewan was intrigued despite himself. “I could declare the train property of the Crown. Vampires stashed some fancy tech on it, you say? Well, if the Picklemen want it, might be a good idea to hide it away in Scotland.”
Sophronia heartily agreed. “Give the transmitter to Kingair. It’ll be safe in werewolf hands. It’ll be a little while before the pack leaves, correct? By then they will have made it impossible for the Picklemen or the vampires to retrieve it.”
The dewan was looking at Sophronia with new eyes. “I see what you mean, Captain.”
Sophronia continued to stroke Soap’s fur, unconcerned by this scrutiny.
The dewan surprised her, though. “While you have been plotting, little miss, so have I.” He turned to look at Sidheag, who was sitting only slightly too close to Captain Niall.
“It seems all this bother is because I ignored your request to join the pack, Lady Kingair. I realize now that even if I order you back to that school, you’ll keep running away. Send the pack off to India and next thing I know, you’ll stow away on a steamer.”
Sidheag gave him an enigmatic look.
Sophronia watched this exchange from under lowered lids.
“No, Miss Temminnick, I don’t believe you take my meaning. He’ll have to stay with me for a long time. I’m a loner, I have no pack, neither does he, but as I’ve shifted him”—there was pride in the dewan’s voice; to metamorphose a new werewolf successfully was rare—“he must stay with me to learn control. It’s my responsibility to teach him.”
“How long will it take?” Sophronia was simply glad Soap wasn’t dead. Separation seemed a paltry price to pay.
“Years, even decades.”
That is a long time.
“It depends on who he is.”
That part, Sophronia could answer. “He’s a good man, my lord. You’ll like him. Smart and capable and hardworking and funny and fun and a leader, in his way, and…”
“I understand, Miss Temminnick,” and he sounded as if he understood more than he let on, more than just her words, “but sometimes men are different as wolves.”
“Not my Soap.”
“We shall see.” The dewan finished with the rag and tossed it aside. If the cold night air gave him any trouble, he didn’t show it. “I might have to keep him a secret, for a while.” He didn’t explain the statement, but Sophronia smelled werewolf politics all over it. “I trust you and your friends will be discreet?”
Sophronia arched a brow at him. “Intelligencer trained, my lord.”
He chuckled as if at a joke, then sobered. “I won’t hold you to our bargain. A new werewolf is gift enough. It happens so rarely.”
Sophronia was honestly surprised and even a little touched. “I keep my word, my lord. In this, if nothing else. If you’ll only allow me to finish my schooling first?” Plus, I have Picklemen to thwart. Like it or not, with one bullet Duke Golborne had decided Sophronia’s position. Every part of her was now bent on undermining his plans. She no longer cared what the Picklemen intended, she was going to stop them. No one shot her Soap!
Captain Niall said, from where he was sitting with Sidheag nearby, “I’d take her up on it, my lord. You’ll be a good fit, all three of you.”
The dewan nodded. “Very well. Patronage it is. And don’t think I’ve forgotten your commitment, Captain. We need to get back on the run as soon as this new pup has mastered his paws.”
Sophronia asked, too casually, “Why do you need Captain Niall, sir?”
“No hidden agenda there, little spy. He’s to take over as Alpha of Kingair. Always was the intent. I can’t leave them leaderless, not as I’m shipping them out with the Coldsteam Guards in a month. Exile as punishment for attempted treason. India is the best place for them, fighting on the front. Keep them distracted from their little plots. Keep them away from Lord Maccon.”
Sophronia was confused. “But much as I respect the captain, he told us he isn’t a real Alpha.” He’d said as much to the students on several occasions, without any shame. Some werewolves were Alphas, some weren’t. Only Alphas think it matters. Frankly, I prefer not, he’d said. Alphas tend not to live all that long.
“No, but he’s the best loner I’ve got in England right now. And he is a passing good military captain.”
“Oh, thank you kindly, dewan.” Captain Niall did not look particularly upset by the insult. Perhaps it wasn’t an insult.
As the dewan was to be her patron, Sophronia figured he might as well get accustomed to her questioning him, so she said, “But Captain Niall didn’t do anything wrong! It isn’t fair that he be punished with them.”
“All too often, being a werewolf isn’t fair. Your friend there will have to learn that soon, too.”
Sophronia reflected on her own reaction to Soap’s affections. “I think that’s one thing he’s accustomed to already, my lord.”
The dewan said, “I think we can move him now.”
“I have a suggestion,” said Sophronia. “If we could find some coal and get that train up and running—why not just take it north, as we intended? You can travel during the day and night that way, and won’t lose time tonight while Soap sleeps. You’ll have to take Sidheag with you, of course. She knows how to drive the train.”
The dewan was intrigued despite himself. “I could declare the train property of the Crown. Vampires stashed some fancy tech on it, you say? Well, if the Picklemen want it, might be a good idea to hide it away in Scotland.”
Sophronia heartily agreed. “Give the transmitter to Kingair. It’ll be safe in werewolf hands. It’ll be a little while before the pack leaves, correct? By then they will have made it impossible for the Picklemen or the vampires to retrieve it.”
The dewan was looking at Sophronia with new eyes. “I see what you mean, Captain.”
Sophronia continued to stroke Soap’s fur, unconcerned by this scrutiny.
The dewan surprised her, though. “While you have been plotting, little miss, so have I.” He turned to look at Sidheag, who was sitting only slightly too close to Captain Niall.
“It seems all this bother is because I ignored your request to join the pack, Lady Kingair. I realize now that even if I order you back to that school, you’ll keep running away. Send the pack off to India and next thing I know, you’ll stow away on a steamer.”
Sidheag gave him an enigmatic look.
Sophronia watched this exchange from under lowered lids.
