Arden grew more and more on edge as the courses were removed and the evening dragged on. He couldn’t really put his finger on why.
Other than all the staring, that was.
It had to be his imagination. He was letting his self-consciousness and lack of appropriate social skills get the better of him, because, really. The food was excellent. Everyone seemed to know each other, and be having a wonderful time. The wine flowed freely, along with bright chatter and scatters of laughter. This was probably just what parties were like. Arden had never attended one. Why would they spare a second of attention for him, as he sat there like a silent lump, poking at his food and praying for the horrible day to end?
It didn’t end.
It went on and on and on, and as it did, Arden forgot to be self-conscious and grew more and more indignant at the general sense of jollity.
Mourning was for the mausoleum, yes, and the gatherings after an interment were intended to be a celebration of life, true, but there was altogether far too much laughter, if you asked Arden.
Too many loud, overly excited voices jangling in his ears.
Crude jokes he pretended not to hear.
Other things that he thought perhaps were also jokes, but he didn’t quite understand.
Platter after platter of rich food, an endless stream of wine. It all blurred into one continuous, numbing buzz.
Arden was exhausted. He hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep since Papa’s valet had found the old earl peacefully dead in his bed. The night showed no sign of wrapping up.
Or...?
Perhaps it did?
Horribly uncomfortable with the relentless press of attention, whenever he looked up from his plate, he only looked at the head of the table where Jack, the highest-ranking alpha guest, sat at Lassit’s right hand. Aloys was at Lassit’s left.
Thank the gods, Arden thought when Lassit set down his wineglass with deliberation and made a move to stand up. It was almost over.
Before Lassit got any further than shifting forwards in his seat, however, Jack stopped him.
It looked at first like a friendly, casual touch.
Jack laid his hand over the back of Lassit’s wrist, pressing it flat to the table as Jack leaned in and said something in a low voice that Arden had no hope of hearing over the general cacophony of feasting, revelling guests.
Because theywererevelling.
There was an excited snap to the air he couldn’t begin to account for. It had only grown more noticeable as the night progressed.
Whatever Jack said had Lassit tensing. Jack’s knuckles whitened as he held Lassit’s wrist down. Unable to pull free, Lassit twisted in his chair and snarled something in Jack’s face.
Jack didn’t snarl back.
Jacksmiled.
In one smooth motion, he released Lassit’s wrist and stood. No one was paying any attention yet. The meal had been a long one. A number of guests had discreetly withdrawn for a few minutes to attend to their needs before returning.
Lassit rose halfway out of his chair. Jack laid a hand on his shoulder and pushed him down, then applied pressure to keep him there as he circled behind Lassit’s chair, rounding the head of the table. Lassit’s face darkened and he spat something furious up at Jack.
Jack, who was still smiling.
Arden watched the whole argument with wide eyes. He cut a quick, questioning look over to Aloys.
Aloys was glaring at Jack with hatred. As if he sensed Arden, he turned his head and their gazes locked. The hatred didn’t just remain. It intensified.
Arden shrank back in his chair.
“Arden.” Jack had released Lassit and now stood beside him. Reaching down, he took firm hold of Arden’s arm, and pulled him up out of his chair. “Will you trust me?” he said.
