“Well, I should never venture to question your assessment of Boots’s taste, but really, you must be mistaken in Professor Lyall’s nature. He’s in the military, for goodness’ sake!”

“I take it you have heard very little on the subject of Her Majesty’s Royal Navy?” The vampire moved on to her shoes. Her feet were so swollen she no longer fit into any of her boots, much to his disgust. “Imagine wearing a walking dress with dancing slippers!”

“Well, it’s not as though I walk all that much anymore. But, my dear lord, I can’t believe it. Not Professor Lyall. You must misconstrue.”

Lord Akeldama became motionless, his head bent over one of her kid slippers. “Oh, little lilac bush, I know I do not.”

Lady Maccon stilled herself, frowning down at the blond head bent so diligently at her feet. “I have never seen him favor anyone of either sex. I had thought it was a part of being Beta, to love the pack at the expense of every other romance. Not that I have met many Betas. It is not a personality trait, then? Has he not always been so reticent?”

Lord Akeldama stood and came back behind her, beginning to toy with her hair.

“You arrange a lady’s ensemble rather well, for an aristocrat. Don’t you, my lord?”

“We all came from somewhere originally, buttercup, even us vampires. Of course, your Professor Lyall and I have never run in the same circles, and until you came into our lives, I must admit I never paid him much mind.” The vampire frowned and a look of genuine disfavor crossed his beautiful face. “This may yet prove to be a rather catastrophic oversight. As bad as that brief period wherein I became enamored of a lime-green overcoat.” He shuddered at the unpleasantness of the memory.

“Surely it cannot be so awful as all that. It is only Professor Lyall of whom we speak.”

“Exactly, my plum puff. So few of us can be so easily dismissed as an only. I’ve done some inquiring. They say he never quite recovered from a broken heart.”

Alexia frowned. “Oh, do they?”

“An embarrassing affliction in an immortal, brokenheartedness, wouldn’t you say? Least of all in a man of sense and dignity.”

Lady Maccon gave her friend a sharp look through the looking glass as he pinned one of her curls into place. “No, I should say instead poor Professor Lyall.”

Lord Akeldama finished with her hair. “There!” he pronounced with a flourish. He held up a hand mirror for her to look at the back. “I haven’t our lovely Biffy’s skill with the curling tongs, so a simple updo will have to suffice. I apologize for such ineptitude. I should add one or two rosettes or a fresh flower, just here.”

“Oh, simple is absolutely splendid, and anything is better than what I could do for myself. I shall take your advice about the flower, of course.”

The vampire nodded, took the mirror back, and placed it on the armoire. “And . . . how is Biffy?” The very flatness in the vampire’s words alerted Alexia to the importance of this oh-so-casual question.