Page 18 of Plucked By the Orc

He swallowed his next words. Not because he didn’t relish the idea of discussing such topics with Iris Gabbert but because itwouldn’t do. Not when she was here to learn how to fit into human society.

Neither Lady Margaret nor any other human ladies of Duncan’s acquaintance would speak a peep on such matters, insisting that this was “for the men” to ponder. While he understood why these ladies avoided such topics, the strict training that required them not to voice an opinion, Duncan found this behavior baffling.

He was raised in a society where women laughed loudly, expressed their views with no qualms, and took equal part in decision-making. Mother thought the entire lot of thetonwere fools for not encouraging women to speak freely. Who knew what great invention or literary work could come from that half of the population?

Regardless, the last thing the humantonwanted to hear from a lady was an opinion on current affairs. History and art were tolerable topics, but never politics. If Lady Bellingham were to catch wind of it, she would finger Iris Gabbert as an impostor for sure. At the very least, such rebellion would not help lift Miss Gabbert from her present circumstances but potentially worsen them. She had not the advantages of Mother, who owned both wealth and the title of Dowager Duchess.

“Let us focus on the task at hand.” He strode to the easel in the corner of the library, where he had propped thick canvas stock cards, the size of his head, for the lesson. Duncan had worked on the cards by candlelight into the earliest morning hours to adequately prepare for the lessons. He had taken quill to a great deal of ink, refilling the little pot on his desk numerous times.

The cards portrayed the various nuances of human upper body anatomy that lent themselves to the pronunciation of words, alongside phonetic spellings. He would use them to teach Iris Gabbert to pronounce words in the manner of theton, notbecause that was better in any way, but because it was sensible and would help her.

On top of that, this endeavor would demonstrate the absolute foolishness of the English when it came to how they deemed a person “worthy” of society or not. How could these distinctions of station stand when they were so easily emulated and feigned? It might become the best section of his book.

Duncan chose not to dwell on whether this information was actually helpful to orcs who wished to travel to London, nor whether his father would have wanted it committed to paper. The first Duke of Barrington had devoted his life to good relations between humans and orcs. Then again, Father wanted more orcs to travel freely in the human world so that both societies might learn and grow. So that more Orcan families could increase their wealth in the trade of galena and sapphires.

The book would help other orcs come to London free from the ill experiences he had endured. And so, Duncan told himself, he was fully justified in portraying human society accurately even when that portrayal wasn’t flattering.

“I think it vital that you understand not only the correct enunciation of words and a proper vocabulary but also your anatomy.” Duncan picked up the steel pointer he had instructed Clemons to purchase at a music store. The wand would usually be used by a conductor of an orchestra. After all, he intended to make a certain kind of music with Miss Gabbert.

“Since taking up residence in this land, I’ve learned there is a startling array of differences in how English people pronounce words from one end of the country to the other. From one end of London to the other, for that matter.”

Her lovely eyes, that astonishing color like the last embers in a fire, widened. The long lashes framing them tipped up at the ends. He’d seen ladies of thetonwield such lashes as weapons,fluttering and lowering them at will to encourage a gentleman’s attention.

At the moment, Iris appeared to have no such intentions in mind. If anything, she seemed utterly unaware of the effect her eyes had on him.

“Blimey,” she muttered.

“That is a phrase you should banish to the privacy of your mind, Miss Gabbert.”

“What’s wrong with it, then?”

“Naught but that it gives away your origins. Besides, I’ve limited us to a mere twenty cards for our first lesson this morning. A reasonable number.” He moved to the easel and showed her a few of them as examples. “You must practice constricting your throat and having greater awareness of your diphthong when you speak. I expect that by the time we break for luncheon, you will have completed half of the exercises and be most satisfied with your progress. We shall have you speaking as one of thetonwell before St. Valentine’s Day.”

Miss Gabbert gnawed on her bottom lip. The gesture had the most irritating effect of emphasizing the lush contours of those same lips.

Without warning, Duncan sensed tingling between his fingers and, trying not to panic, quickly clasped his hands behind his back. But there it was. Just as had occurred last night, and too late to control it now.

Iris Gabbert aroused his basest passions. And though his mind tried to fight that desire, his body relented. His claws were retracting.

The claws between Duncan’s fingers were most helpful when traversing the city at night. When the worst sort of wharf rats and villains approached him. Approachedhim. Even if the poor bastards couldn’t recognize an orc under the cloak of night,surely they made out his size. It was brazen and explicable only in terms of the sad state of their untenable circumstances.

But when those same scoundrels confronted him, he removed the gloves he and his brother had specially tailored at the finest haberdashery on Savile Row. Once the would-be robbers saw the claws, they gave him a wide enough berth as they passed. In the presence of a lady he desired, however, those claws withdrew into the skin, his body understanding that he wanted to give the woman pleasure free from inadvertent injury. It was a trick of nature similar to that played on human men who struggled to hide their arousal.

Of course, in that department, Orcs were no different. And blast it if fashionable trousers made the disguise of any imprudent stimulation most difficult.

His fists clenched as he tried to prevent his claws from retracting. Duncan didn’t know if Iris was aware of the significance of that quirk of Orcan biology, but he’d rather not embarrass himself either way.

When he presented the initial offer to tutor her, Duncan hadn’t realized the unwelcome emotions Iris Gabbert would stir inside him. But he had noted her beauty. He had eyes, did he not? Now she looked at him with her lips slightly parted in the most bewitching manner. She stared at him with curiosity, interest, and absolutely no guile, as an Orcan woman would have. It left his heart racing and his body helpless.

And yet it would have been unseemly at best and downright villainous at worst to take advantage of her lowly situation, even with the most innocent of suggested activities between an unmarried lady and gentleman. And how limited those choices were when one was outside the cluttered social schedule of thetonwith their endless balls and garden parties. Robbed of those options, a gentleman might ask a lady to accompany him on a stroll at the Serpentine, perhaps, or to a lecture at a museum.And always with a chaperone present to ensure nothing untoward would happen.

Living apart from a family, Iris Gabbert wasn’t protected or limited by these human customs, which had been neither here nor there until he accidentally caught sight of her last night. Her skin was soft and smooth, her eyes lively and curious, and all framed by hair the same reddish-brown hue of leaves in autumn. Iris was smaller than women in the Hidden Realm but spoke her mind loudly enough to make any Orcan mother proud. He longed to run his fingers over the delicate skin, feel the dainty bones of her wrists, and compare their slightness with the expanse of his own.

Her hold on him was truly spectacular. Perhaps worthy of a separate section in his book.

Not that he could write anything down, let alone get to their lessons, until he regained command of his body, now pulsing with desire. He wondered if she could detect his distress.

It seemed she could not. At present, Iris was worrying her lower lip, gaze focused on the first card before her, a sketch illustrating how to open her glottis to rid herself of the stoppage affecting her pronunciation of certain words.

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