Arrival in the city
*Julia*
As the first of our four coaches pulls to a stop in front of the capital residence, I take a deep breath. It’s one thing to carry on a ruse when we are seldom visited. It will be another thing entirely here. Every day someone is bound to call on us. Not to mention the whirlwind of parties, balls, and dinners we are expected to attend.
I feel Nick’s… Greystorm’s… Grey’s, I have to remember to think of him as Grey… hand close around mine and squeeze.
“It’s not too late if you have changed your mind. I can help you and Noa get settled in here, and then I will carry on to the residence I began leasing last year.” He says.
Leaning in, I kiss him. “I haven’t changed my mind. I’m married to the Alpha of Greystorm.”
“No one will know otherwise.” He promises.
The servant opens the door. Greystorm steps out and hands me down. He seems so confident, self-assured, and yet I suspect he has to be experiencing some trepidation regarding the gauntlet that we both will be passing through. Far too many opportunities exist for a slip, which would destroy our one chance to be together as well as our reputations. But the love I hold for him is worth the risk.
I am unable to envision my life without him in it. A chaste relationship seems hardly possible when I am fully aware of the passion that exists between us. It still amazes me that he has been able to hold it in check for so many years.
As we walk up the steps, another footman opens the door. “My Alpha, my Luna, welcome home.”
“Thank you, John,” I say. Nick has memorized the names of the main staff, but distinguishing one tall, dark-haired footman from another is going to take time, because I’ve been unable to provide him with any descriptions that would make that task easy. Not that he needs to know the names of most of them.
Stepping into the residence, I inhale deeply the familiar fragrances of our capital residence. Flowers adorn the entryway, the floor glistens with a recent polishing, stairs on either side lead up to the next level.
“Alpha and Luna Greystorm,” the butler says with a slight bow. “We are glad to have you in residence. Allow me to offer the staff’s condolences on the loss of Beta Nick.”
It hadn’t occurred to me that everyone in capital who hadn’t been at the funeral might feel a need to offer their sympathies on the death of Nick. And each offering simply serves as a reminder of our deception.
“Thank you, Hoskins,” Nick says. “I will be going back out shortly. See that a horse is readied.”
“Yes, my Alpha.”
Taking my arm, Nick begins escorting me toward the stairs that lead up to our bedchambers.
“I didn’t realize you would be leaving so soon,” I say.
He gives me a small smile, “I need to go speak with Tom.”
“That seems rather risky. I should think if anyone could discern the truth…”
“He already has.” He admits.
At the top of the stairs, I turn to face him. He gives me a laconic grin. “He and Zac both figured it out the day of the funeral. For what it’s worth, Tom was rather insistent that I tell you the truth then and there. Which is why it’s imperative that I speak with him as soon as possible. He needs to know that you know, before he takes it upon himself to tell you.” He touches his fingers to my cheek. “Don’t look so worried. He won’t object once I explain things to him.”
“Perhaps I should go with you.” I suggest.
“It’s best if I go alone. I’m sure he will have some choice words for me, the sort that should never touch a Luna’s ears.”
I look at him with worry, “Will he think ill of me?”
“Not unless he wants a bloodied nose.” He says.
I force a light laugh. “And Zac?”
“He is not coming to the capital for the Season. Perhaps we will stop at Havisham on our return to Evermore.”
It hasn’t occurred to me that anyone would know what Nick and I are up to, but I know he trusts his childhood friends.
“When I return, we will go for a ride in the park,” he says. “Ease our way back into the capital pack Society.”
“I shall look forward to it.” A little lie. I rather dread it, fear I will give us away.
Leaning in, he takes my mouth, and I melt against him. I always melt against him. How is it that after a hundred kisses, he still has the power to completely undo me with little more than the persistent press of his lips, the swirling of his tongue over mine?
Drawing back, he grins. “I will return posthaste.”
“I will be waiting.” I tell him.
“I love when you utter those words.”
He dashes down the stairs before I can stop him, before I can suggest that perhaps he should join me in my bedchamber for a bit. Dear Goddess, what a wanton I am. He sends all my good sense to perdition.