His Lady Peregrine (2 page)

“
Oh I
must
.”

“
You remind me very much of a—”

“
Yes go on.”

He
drummed the fingers of his right hand
against his thigh. “I will if you’ll stop interrupting—”

“
You
were
interrupting
me
.”

“
My lady, d
o you want
your question answered or not?”

“
If you don’t mind.” She tapped one boot in the
dirt.

“
Very well.” He let out a breath. “You, my good woman,
remind me of a peregrine falcon.” There. He’d said it. Would she
laugh in his face or kick him in the knee?

She blinked.
“Oh.”

Not quite the
reaction he’d expected. Perhaps,
even though she was fond of birds, the peregrine wasn’t a
favorite. Too late to take back the sentiment. Though even if he
could retract it, he wouldn’t. Such divine avian features deserved
admiration. “By the way, how had you happened to end up in a
heap?”

“
I fell from the tree, of course.”

Of course.

“
Aren’t you going to ask me what I was doing in the tree,
Mr. Radcliff?”

“
Do you
want
me to ask?”

“
It is my
deepest
wish.”

“
Then by all means, pray tell me.”

“
I was trying to climb that tree because I’d heard the
call of a willow warbler and very much wanted to see it close up.
Somehow, though, I must have lost my footing and well, fell. You
know, pesky gravity and all.”

“
Don’t you suppose someone who works at the Sanctuary
might frown on a visitor climbing one of the trees? It simply
isn’t
done.”

Lady Ollerton
stood on her toes, bringin
g her
face quite close to his. “Don’t
you
suppose a person with a
love for birds has a right to do as she pleases?”

Percy tilted his
head to one side
. The woman was
sarcastic, blunt, and demanding.

She was
perfect.

Georgiana Ollerton
upended
her sack of feathers onto her
kitchen floor. Sorting them was one of her favorite pastimes. She
catalogued them by bird of origin, color, size and of course, which
were the prettiest. If she had extra feathers from the same type of
bird, she wasn’t above using them to decorate a hat or
two.

Her small notebook and
quill were on her lap, as she jotted down her most recent finds.
Two from warblers, five chiff-chaffs, three cuckoos, and ten
wagtails — though to be fair the ten were divided up between male
and female feathers. Thank goodness. Otherwise some poor bird was
flying around half-naked.

Her thoughts turned to Mr.
Radcliff. What an interesting man. She shook her head. Had that
really occurred? The chance meeting with handsome Mr. Radcliff had
come as a shock. Normally when she tried to climb trees and fell
there wasn’t anyone around to help her up.

What a pleasant surprise
to have had him come to her rescue. Not that she needed rescuing,
mind, but she’d enjoyed it all the same. Since her husband, the
Earl of Graverly, had passed, she’d not taken much interest in men.
To be fair, none had taken a fancy to her either at her age of two
and forty, but Mr. Radcliff seemed to have. The man asked her to
accompany him on an outing.
Her.
She was no spring chicken. Not some silly
debutante to simper and bat her eyelashes at a possible suitor.
Yet, he’d shown an interest.

And she’d said yes.
Am I mad?
Probably. That
would prove her brothers right, at least. Give them something to
crow about. She shrugged. But then what was new? Even her late
husband, Albert, God rest his soul, had merely tolerated her
interest in birds. Had he thought her mad, as well?

She’d never know.

Was the fact that Mr. Radcliff had been in
attendance at the Sanctuary a sign that he loved birds as she did?
Or was he simply passing the time until something more amusing came
along?

But he had compared her to
a peregrine falcon. A finer compliment she’d never received. She
wasn’t used to the attentions of someone of the masculine sex. At
that moment, she’d felt like a silly, simpering debutante, pleased
at something a handsome gentleman had said to her.

Georgiana, you’re being
daft.

After Mr. Radcliff had
rescued her, he’d asked to spend some time with her. The surprise
had nearly knocked her down again. Surely he hadn’t actually meant
it? Perhaps he only wanted her to accompany him to some outing and
that would be the end of it. Had she met someone interesting only
to have it end up short-lived?

The case clock in the
corner chimed. Georgiana gasped. Was that the time? She’d better
change and get ready for Mr. Radcliff to collect her. Something
shuffled behind her then scratched at the floor. It was
Winston.

“
Oh no you don’t, Mr.
Fluffy-breeches. You know these feathers aren’t for you!” She
scooped up her long-haired grey cat before he could pounce on her
treasures. She set him down again and shooed him a few feet away.
With a sigh, she gathered up the feathers again and put the bag
inside a cupboard because she knew Winston couldn’t be trusted when
it came to feathers.

As she headed toward her
bedchamber, the cat raced ahead of her. Uh-oh. Winston was heading
there too. Georgiana had asked her maid, Mary, to lay out her best
day gown on top of the bed before her outing with Mr.
Radcliff.

Sure enough, Winston was
on top of her gown. Kneading the fabric and purring. Loudly. “You
wicked cat. You know that’s my best day dress.”
Now I’m out of time!
Even with Mary
helping her to dress, they wouldn’t be able to remove the multitude
of cat hairs before Mr. Radcliff arrived. Would he believe it if
she told him the cat hair was there on purpose? Some sort of
decoration like the feathers in her hat? No. Probably
not.

Perhaps he loved cats as
much as birds and wouldn’t think it odd. Or maybe he wouldn’t even
notice them. One could hope.

She’d been so excited to
be asked on an outing she’d forgotten to inquire as to what their
destination was to be. No matter. This was the most exciting event
to have happened to her since a willow warbler had done a flip to
rival a court jester on a tree branch outside her bedroom
window.

After Mary had helped her into her gown and
had fixed, or tried to, her unruly hair, Georgiana was ready.

Wait, that wasn’t right.
She might appear ready on the surface, but her insides quivered
like a baby bird’s spindly legs on the edge of the nest. Ever since
she’d been left on her own, she’d worked very hard to develop a
kind of protective shell around her. Sarcasm often emerged when she
was nervous, scaring away all except the heartiest of
souls.

What if Mr. Radcliff found
her not to his liking? Too outspoken or rude? Or thought her mad
when he discovered her abiding love for birds? Or if he decided she
was too old to court. He appeared to be older than her, but many
men seemed to want women young enough to be their
daughters.

She put on her pelisse and
grabbed her reticule. Any minute now, his carriage would come up
her drive. That is, unless he changed his mind. Decided against
taking her on an outing. Thought about his rash invitation and
reconsidered.

Stop!
She needed to calm herself. Even if nothing came of today, if
he didn’t come for her or he did but found her not to his liking,
she’d not count it as a loss.

Who am I trying to
fool?
Her shoulders slumped.

With the exception of
Winston, Georgiana had been incredibly lonely since the loss of
Albert. They’d never been blessed with children, and her nieces and
nephews, now grown, lived too far away to see very
often.

How silly, though, to even
think of Mr. Radcliff as someone who might fill her husband’s place
in her heart. She’d barely spoken to the man. What if
he—

A horse’s whinny came from
just outside her front window. She peeked past the curtain at the
sleek, black horses pulling the large, shiny carriage.
My goodness…
Was Mr.
Radcliff a man of means? She hadn’t bothered to take much notice of
his attire the day prior. No, she’d been too enamored of being
compared to a peregrine to think about anything as mundane as
clothing.

The knock on the door startled her, though
it shouldn’t have. The man was right outside, after all.

Georgiana, regretting the
fact that she no longer could afford a footman, opened the door
herself.

Mr. Radcliff’s
attire
was
impeccable. Shiny hessian boots, trousers without a tear,
spot, or blemish, black coat over a white shirt, and a dove grey
cravat. Hmm.
Dove
grey. Was that a good sign?

When her gaze met his, her
heart gave a little bump. He was smiling, as if extraordinarily
pleased to see her. Aside from Winston, no males other than birds
had given her more than a passing notice for some time.

“
Lady Ollerton.” He gave a
bow. “How lovely you look today.”

Out of practice curtseying
very often, she executed one now, relieved not to have fallen on
her bottom in the process.

Wouldn’t that have made a fine
impression?

Mr. Radcliff reached for
her hand, kissed the back of it, and looped her arm through his.
“Ready for our outing,
Lady
Peregrine?”

Georgiana sputtered a
laugh. “Pardon?”

“
It’s what I’ve decided to
call you. It’s a compliment, by the way.”

“
Yes… quite.” Something
warm curled around her heart, thawing a little bit of her longing
for companionship. “Thank you, it’s… it’s lovely.”

“
Glad you approve, my
lady.”

He helped her to the
carriage. Georgiana fretted the entire time that she would trip
over her skirt. Or her boots. Or
his
boots.
Concentrate!
She’d never been
graceful. Perhaps that’s one reason she loved to watch the birds
fly. They were perfection in motion.

Only a few more steps and
then she could—

Something was thrust in
her path and she stumbled. And landed right in Mr. Radcliff’s lap.
How had
that
happened? Had she tripped him when she stumbled?

Oh the horror…

“
P-p-pardon, my d-dear.”
His face had gone pale.

With care, hoping not to
injure the poor man any further, Georgiana regained her feet. She
reached down and grabbed his hand, hauling him to stand.

“
Much obliged.” A wheezing
noise came from the vicinity of his lips.

“
Are you—” She placed her
hand flat on his chest, noticing his warmth even through his coat.
“Mr. Radcliff, are you hurt?”

He swallowed, his throat
moving his cravat down and up. “F-fine. P-perfectly
fine.”

She shook her head. He’d
never want to see her again after today. “Please forgive
my—”

“
Oh no, Lady Peregrine. It
wasn’t your doing at all.”

“
It wasn’t?”

“
I’m
afraid… that is, I’ve always been a little clumsy. It was my own
foot that tripped you, I’m loath to admit. Are
you
injured?”

Was it true that it had
been his clumsiness, or was he only being kind to save her from
being embarrassed? Either way, it was quite sweet. If it really had
been his fault, she’d hate for him to feel embarrassed. “Never
fear, Mr. Radcliff. I am quite well and the day is not ruined. I’m
very much looking forward to… er…” Hard to complete the thought
when she didn’t know where they were headed.

His face lit up.
“Splendid.”

After they’d successfully
climbed into the carriage, Georgiana tried very hard not to stare
at the interior. It reminded her so much of a carriage of Albert’s
many years ago. Before his financial downfall. While it was true
she could claim the title of Lady Ollerton, she no longer had any
resources to aid her lifestyle.

Mores the pity.

Not that she’d gone
without. No, not at all. And while she didn’t crave the treasures
of the world, sometimes she wished things were a trifle easier.
She’d hated the day she’d had to let her footman and other servants
go. Mary, bless her, had agreed to stay on for little more than
room and board.

Even with all of that,
with little income and widowhood, she had a mostly happy life as
long as she could visit with her birds.

She glanced up at Mr.
Radcliff and smiled. Though finding a new love would certainly be a
wonderful surprise, wouldn’t it?