How To Marry A Werewolf (Claw & Courtship, #1)(32)

Faith tried to remember all their names, but found only Mr Hemming and Mr Ditmarsh stuck in her head. Mr Ditmarsh because he was so ridiculously handsome, like the swoon-worthy hero of some Gothic romance, with long dark hair like a pirate and piercing hazel eyes, and Mr Hemming because he was by far the most convivial. He appeared to be something on the order of a country bumpkin, built to till fields and strip his jacket off under the hot sun. His open, friendly countenance resulted in everyone who met him liking him immediately.

The food was simple but very well prepared and prettily presented. There was meat in every dish, and the werewolves ate mainly that and left any vegetables to the guests.

The conversation was stilted at first as the courses were brought out.

“Where, exactly, is your family from, in America, Miss Wigglesworth?” asked Mr Quinn.

“Boston.” Faith hoped they would not ask too much about her family history.

“And do you miss it there?”

“Not especially.”

“Stop prying, Quinn,” barked Channing, utterly without provocation. “She’s here now.”

A pause.

Faith glanced up from her food. Biffy’s expression was all amusement, Professor Lyall’s resignation, and the rest of the pack’s nervousness. She did not know what Channing’s expression was; she refused to look at him.

Mr Hemming tried next. “And are you enjoying London, Miss Wigglesworth?”

“Yes, more than I thought.” Faith smiled at him, grateful for his willingness to face the major’s unreasonable ire. Really, what was Channing about? Just sitting there making everyone else uncomfortable?

Faith pushed on, doing her part to encourage conversation. “It’s such fun here and has been unexpectedly welcoming. Which I’m sure can be attributed to Lord Falmouth’s influence and my dear cousins’ gracious hospitality.”

“How do you find it different from your past society?” Quinn asked.

“Balls are much more frequent here,” said Faith.

“Or perhaps here you are simply a great deal more popular,” praised Biffy from the head of the table.

Faith could feel her face get hot. “I think it’s actually that here there’s more opportunity to enjoy oneself.”

“Have you plans for when the season has ended?” asked Mr Ditmarsh.

“Oh. No. I hadn’t thought that far ahead.” I was supposed to be married or at least engaged. I cannot go home.

“She’ll stay with us, of course,” said Teddy, staunchly.

“I cannot possibly continue to trespass on your hospitality. You’ve been too kind already.” Faith said what she ought and trembled with it.

Mrs Iftercast look pointedly at Channing. “Perhaps it will not be a concern.”

“I should go home.” Faith tried to keep the misery out of her voice.

“We shall see,” said Biffy. “I think we could find you a good match. One of my boys, perhaps.”

The gentlemen arranged about the table all looked highly uncomfortable, but none of them would contradict their Alpha. A few side-eyed their Gamma with trepidation.

Biffy looked mischievous. He gestured at Mr Bluebutton. “Adelphus here is, of course, quite elegant and cultivated. One might think him respectable, but he has the reputation of a philanderer, so perhaps not.”

The werewolf in question rolled his eyes. “No worse than Channing, and we all know—” He stopped abruptly, as if someone had kicked him under the table.

Biffy moved on to his next victim.

“Quinn is an utter sweetheart, and punctilious by nature, but his temper occasionally gets the better of him, particularly around vampires.”

“I say!” said Quinn. “Me? Channing is ten times worse if blood-suckers are—” Another abrupt cut-off.

Faith was beginning to be entertained by the show. Biffy was trying to amuse her at the expense of his long-suffering pack. It was rather sweet of him.

On his host’s left, Mr Iftercast gave concerted attention to his meal in a desperate manner that suggested he had absolutely no idea what to do under these particular circumstances. Teddy and her brothers were all wide-eyed and interested in this teasing game, maybe seeing some of their own sibling rivalries amongst the werewolves. Mrs Iftercast looked partly amused, partly horrified.

Biffy continued with a nod at Mr Ditmarsh, who stopped eating, crossed his arms, and stared at his Alpha – as if daring him to do his damnedest.

Biffy said, “Ulric here might be a little too old for you, Faith dear, and a great deal too autocratic. Although perhaps you could bring him down a peg or two?”

Faith giggled.

Ulric said, clearly entering into the spirit of the thing, “I’d be delighted to give her the opportunity to find out. I enjoy a challenge.”

Channing grumbled, “Enjoy a challenge, do you? Outside, right now, wolf form, try me.”

Mr Ditmarsh hid a smile and tilted his head to show his neck to the Gamma. He clearly knew his rank. He was also clearly delighted to see Channing getting more and more annoyed, as each subsequent pack member was offered up as a candidate for Faith’s affections.

Faith was beginning to enjoy it, too, as it became clear the only werewolf truly made uncomfortable at the table was Major Channing. Although it was slightly at her expense. Still, the idea of a werewolf buffet, all because she had a reputation as a tail-chaser, was a fair cop.