Professor Lyall arched an eyebrow. “Sekhmet? The Egyptian goddess?”

Rue was relieved by his confusion. Right then, so far, purple dresses notwithstanding, they had yet to meet Miss Sekhmet’s contact for the other side of the tea situation. “Never mind,” said Rue.

Professor Lyall was calm in the face of mystery. He said only, “Little one, the purpose of this conversation is merely to say that I am here if you need to call upon a werewolf.” He gestured, without rancour, to his bare forearm. “In any capacity you require, metanatural. Any capacity at all. You understand?”

Rue inhaled in shock. It was the first time a werewolf had ever offered to share his form without question or restriction. Usually, she had to steal supernatural shape from a reluctant donor and apologise for it later. She found his offer touching.

“Thank you very much, Uncle Lyall. I am honoured, but I hope that won’t be necessary.”

The Beta smiled. “As do I, Miss Rue, as do I.” With another small bow he glided off, leaving Rue, Primrose, and Quesnel slightly dumbfounded.

They watched his slight form disappear through the trees, dodging monkey projectiles with supernatural swiftness.

“Did he just offer what I think he offered?” asked Primrose.

Rue nodded, eyes wide.

“What an odd little man,” said Prim. “Nice, but odd.”

“He seems very capable,” replied Rue. “I like him.”

Quesnel, being French, picked up on emotions. “He seemed rather sad.” It was an oddly serious thing for him to say and he shrugged it off with, “Beautifully tied cravat for a werewolf.”

They followed said werewolf’s retreating form, conscious that they had been neglecting their collective social duties and had left Percy, of all people, to take on the lion’s share of the obligation.

They found the redhead holding his own in a spectacular manner. Surrounded by eligible young ladies, and a few who were not at all eligible, Percy was waxing loquacious on the breeding habits of chilli peppers. He was explaining, with the comestibles on offer as his sample specimens, why ingesting spicy food caused overheating of the body, heart palpitations, and occasional irregularities in the magnetic energies of the human brain – particularly in impressionable young ladies.

Said impressionable young ladies were duly impressed by this lecture.

The hostess was looking acutely embarrassed at the very idea that she had included truly spicy native cuisine in her offerings.

Percy caught sight of them coming up. “Here, let me demonstrate – try this.” He held out a small bit of flatbread, dipped into a reddish curry.

Rue, who was always game for a new experience, took it and ate it with alacrity.

All the impressionable young ladies, who had no doubt eaten the same on more than one occasion before Percy had come into their midst and begun soliloquising upon its dangers, gasped. They watched her with round eyes, anticipating tragic gastronomic reactions.