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When Baron Rainton - Mr. Stanbury, he insisted these days, though he hadn't been truly disowned - had invited the Dukes of Asterly over for a small friendly get-together at his townhouse mid-season, Morgan had nearly refused, preferring to remain more at home than he had in previous years, now that they had a young child to nurture. When Simon had suggested they bring Louis along to meet Percival however, though the babies wouldn't do much playing, the dukes had jumped on the idea. This found them more contented in a small parlor with the children, Simon going in and out to host their more adult friends.
Morgan hadn’t paid the best of attention to who else had been invited, but one who stood out to him was Viscount Griggsby. He’d paused to chat with Penberth earlier, with Hollow, but otherwise . . . Griggsby was the most puzzling. Rainton had already escorted him out of the halls several times and was beginning to get quite annoyed with him for skulking near the children’s parlor, suspecting he was eyeing his Omega husband.
The Viscount had been unusually quiet all evening, even for how silent he usually was at these events. When Rainton escorted him away, he hardly said anything, save a soft apology for intruding on the Omas and their pups. However, the man did not seem sorry at all - craning his head as far back as it would go to catch a final glimpse into the room as he was led away. Truly, something was bothering the already strange Lord Griggsby today, and Asterly had a mind to find out what that could be.
That, of course, could wait. For now, he was busy with Louis and Percival. When Malcolm and Hollow suggested they try to get the children to crawl between people, that quickly took his attention and he lost track of time.
Just as Asterly was about to place a 500 pound bet on his son crawling the fastest, to Hollow’s gasp of horror, he heard the enraged roar of Baron Rainton, who was facing the doorway once again. The Baron had talked his brother in law, the Beta Mortimer Stone, into helping young Percival get started, to engage the unassuming older man. Asterly’s place next to the Beta afforded him the perfect angle to take note of where Griggsby’s eyes flew back to, despite cringing from Simon’s anger.
He glanced between the two and back at the children. Even distracted he couldn’t help the smile that flew to his face seeing Hollow cooing to Louis to call him closer. Percival, meanwhile, had devolved to chewing on the carpet. Mortimer Stone was too busy trying to coax him to move to notice the Alphas standing off in the hall just outside.
“Come now, Percival,” The Beta said patiently, hands resting firmly on his knees as he knelt. “I know you can do it, little one. And just imagine how much tastier the food will be once you get to your Oma! That cannot taste good. I do believe we have a better selection of food. You do not have to eat the rug.”
The baby was, of course, unresponsive and continued chewing, as Mal and Hollow muffled laughter behind their hands, and Simon struggled to remain irritable with Griggsby in the hall at the sound.
Mort gave a sigh as Asterly squinted at the situation. “Percival. Why are you doing this? You didn’t do this to your father. Is it me? Am I the problem?”
A low noise from the hall had Asterly jerking his gaze that way to see Griggsby looking slightly flabbergasted, eyes clearly fixed on Mortimer Stone.
Tristan’s thoughts were in utter turmoil, the space between his brows pinched in a soured expression. No, oh God no, you’re never the problem, my sweet . Really, if he were honest, this man was at once his most vexing problem and, he sometimes felt, the solution for all his problems. Barring all the ones about titles, and that he was a Beta, and a man, and his mother would despise him, that was. Still, he found that he couldn’t care about any of that, not when it came to Mortimer Stone.
“Are you listening to me, Griggsby?” Baron Rainton snapped again and vaguely drew Tristan’s attention with a finger pointing at his chest.
Fortunately, since he had not in fact been listening, the massive frame of Morgan of Asterly quickly rose to his feet at that as his son made it to his Oma. “Excuse me, Rainton, I’ll handle him this time. You go get your pup to stop chewing on your carpet.” He said cheerfully.
“He’s still at that?” Simon turned around and blinked, losing focus immediately and blocking Tristan’s view of the handsome older Beta who was already fussing over the pup.
Asterly soon blocked his view of everything, taking an iron grip on his arm and steering him out, and shockingly, not back to the party, but into the library nearby.
“You’re in love with the Beta?” He whispered harshly under his breath, his grip on Griggsby’s arm still positively bruising.
Tristan tried to shake him off with a grunt and failed, momentarily panicked that he had been found out. “Asterly-”
“Don’t start, Griggsby, I saw where your eyes were,” Asterly snapped, still soft despite his scent stinging with agitation. “He’s a man, you know.”
Tristan gave up fighting the larger Alpha and glared at him petulantly. “I’m aware.” He muttered.
Asterly let go of him to push him down into a chair and pressed a fist to his forehead. “What on Earth are you thinking?”
“I don’t really know him.” Tristan picked at the threads of the chair. “But he’s my Beta.” There was no doubt inside of him when he made the claim.
Asterly turned to stare at him for a moment. His scent curled with something sour and then he groaned in exasperation. “First Penberth and Rainton go after impossible Omegas, and now you with a Beta man. What next?”
Tristan raised an eyebrow. “As I recall, your mate didn’t plan on marriage at all , Asterly.”
Asterly gave him a look. “That was different. An Omega debutante, whatever their plans . . .” He rubbed his forehead again. “And what do you intend to do about it?”
Tristan folded his arms. “I want him.” He shrugged. “It won’t be easy. We’ll likely never be married unless I give up my title-”
“You absolutely will not.”
Tristan raised his voice to speak over his objections. “ Which is impractical and I doubt a sensible Beta gentleman would appreciate the gesture as much as Mr. Stone-Stanbury.” Though he had a rather laid-back personality, Tristan could feel himself rapidly reaching the end of his rope - he wanted to fall onto the ground and throw a fit as a pup would, if only to show how much he wanted the handsome Mortimer Stone to be his.
“Oh, God, you reek . Calm down before you cause a scene.” Asterly was less than supportive about the whole thing.
It took a few seconds to calm his scent, pushing down his annoyance at the man in front of him. “You know I won’t change my mind about this, Asterly.”
“Oh!” Asterly threw up his hands. “Of course you won’t. You’re an Alpha like the rest of us.” He stalked over to the fireplace and brooded over it a minute, leaving Tristan to squirm in his chair.
“I suppose I cannot fault you for feeling like this.” He stared into the fireplace, planning his next words carefully, “Are you prepared to give up everything, if you get caught?”
Tristan fiddled with his hands, studying his nails. “I have already said to you that it’s inadvisable. You’ve made it perfectly clear you won’t allow me to make that choice. What does it matter to you?”
“What does it - Griggsby, you wound me.” Asterly said, glowering at him. “Are we not friends? Should I not care about my fellow Lords?”
“It is a tad unusual.” Tristan pointed out and then had to concede, “Though not amongst friends.”
“Then if you’re not willing to risk everything for him, what, pray tell, do you want to do?” Asterly asked, turning from the fireplace briskly.
“I . . .” Tristan slumped in his chair and sighed. “I don’t know. I want him, one way or another.”
Asterly frowned deeper. “You could never have him openly. What Alpha could settle for secrets?”
Tristan pursed his lips. “A milder one than yourself.” He met Asterly’s gaze evenly, his own scent settling out into one of determination.
Asterly knew that his friend, the idiot that he was, wasn't going to give up, and he gave a deep sigh. “Well then, Lord Griggsby, again , what do you want to do about it?”
“I do believe that I'll need some assistance from you - and perhaps Halwill.”
Asterly narrowed his eyes at him. “You’re asking me. To work with Halwill. To help you. Procure a Beta gentleman - an untitled Beta, as well. For a relationship that’s doomed from the start.”
Tristan huffed out a little laugh, “I'm merely asking you to do what you do best and meddle a bit for me. That wouldn't be so hard, would it?”
Asterly glowered a little longer but seemed to consider that. Really, what was the worst that could happen, he supposed. The Beta seemed a very sensible, relatively reserved man. Surely he’d see that all of this was pure fantasy. “Fine. I’ll meddle about and get you close to him so he can spurn you himself.”
Tristan twitched at the words and glared, heart sinking a bit. Asterly was right. Mr. Stone was a sensible Beta . . . he might say no. They hadn’t even been introduced. Someone not ruled so much by instinct . . . but he absolutely had to try.
If not, he thought, this feeling in my heart shall surely be my demise .