The Beastkeeper's Bride

6: The First, and Only, Round of Socials for Lady Mildred Adams

6: The First, and Only, Round of Socials for Lady Mildred Adams

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The teprouma lumbered slowly across the cobbles, packs of clothing and pottery bulging from its shaggy sides. Blayne had to nimbly sidestep out its blustering path and that was moments before its leavings splattered unceremoniously along the sidewalk, a trail of putrid waste in its wake. He spent a moment expelling an expletive at the cloaked rider before choosing a cleaner route that would lead him to the entrance of the unassuming townhouse that was addressed on the back of the white card Holt had left him last evening.

The door at the top of the three steps was in need of a new layer of paint and the dull copper plaque beside it read: Mrs Addilyn's Anxious Hearts Society in bold, block letters. Before he could consider changing his mind, as he had almost done almost several times on the ride into London, he lifted his fingers and wrapped them around the metal knocker, rapping twice.

He hated the city and everything that it represented. He hated more that he felt compelled to attend this so-called social in what appeared to be some sort of pathetic ritual whereby dozens of males like himself would scrounge and pander to attain the attention of one particular woman.

Yet even now, as he braced on the threshold of the townhouse, there unfurled a tingling sensation of anticipation, as if he was almost eager for it despite his inner distaste for the ordeal.

The notion was foreign to Blayne- he hardly ever felt eager for the attentions of a woman, let alone a human one. His existence was a lonely one, his companion circle small and decidedly male, but not without purpose. The need for a wife, a companion or soulmate, had never featured largely in his mind, though it was not without appeal. To have someone compatible at his side, someone that understood him, someone to converse with late into the night, someone that adhered to the same beliefs and morals that he did... that was something he could warm to, should it occur, and he supposed he had lived long enough alone, fending for himself, that it could be time to welcome another into his life.

Well, these were the thoughts that began to justify his venture into London that day, though he knew that something else was afoot, something larger than even he could explain was at play and now, as the urgent staccato of his heart was indicating, he was slowly becoming apart of it, though reluctantly.

The heavy door swung open to reveal the friendly face of Finnegan Holt and a rather loud commotion from the foyer behind him. Surprise caused the other man's eyebrows to shoot up. "I half expected you not to arrive," he remarked by way of greeting, swinging the door wide and stepping to the side.

"As did I," Blayne said dryly.

Behind Holt, a grown man with huge black horns curling majestically from his brow appeared to be wailing like a newborn babe as a short and curvy human woman attempted to console him.

Noting his gaze, Holt said, "Ah, yes. Do not mind him... our esteemed client appears to have a rather short fuse when it comes to... idiots?"

"Indeed?"

The door closed shut with a subtle click and Holt came to stand beside him, curiously observing the scene unfolding in the centre of the foyer. A window at the other end provided ample light from the cold winter's day to filter through the panes of glass that were dulled from days of neglect. Though neat and clean enough, there was evidence that the townhouse was not being serviced as it should were it fully staffed, indicative of just how successful a business venture Finnegan Holt was apart of if his employer could not afford it.