by Kim Bowman
“Of course, your grace. Right away.” He motioned for a footman to open the front door.
Grey took Magpie by the shoulder, guiding her toward the door, intent on putting as much space between Michaels and his magpie as possible. He tensed, a sudden frown pinching his brow. His magpie. Where had that idea come from? He shook his head, unable to say. But he’d been thinking of her that way for some time…
Why was he suddenly acting the fool? What had he been thinking to behave so irrationally? Indeed, it had been rude of Michaels to call unannounced, but Grey had compounded that rudeness by whisking Magpie away.
The scent of roses wove its way into Grey’s consciousness. He released his grasp on Magpie’s shoulders as they reached the waiting carriage. A footman opened the door, and Grey helped her inside then settled himself in the seat across from her.
“Are we really going to the museum?” Magpie leaned against the window, peering onto the street.
Grey suppressed a smile. Did she think she could see the place from his home? She twisted closer and pressed her face to the glass. Yellow muslin pulled taut, caressing her hip with each little wiggle. Grey followed the rounded curve with his eye. His stomach tightened and heat gathered. Was the muslin as soft as it looked? Was the gentle swell beneath as—
The coach glided forward and she fell back into the seat with a giggle.
Grey sucked in a sharp breath and propped his right ankle over his left knee, strumming his fingers on his leg.
“Is something wrong, your grace? If going to the museum will be an inconvenience—”
Your grace.
“Everything is fine. We shall have a splendid time,” Grey snapped. Anger coursed through him and his body shook with it. Blowing out a long slow breath, he clenched and unclenched his fists. Why did she insist on addressing him so formally while she enjoyed the comforts of his home, yet after only a dance with Michaels, she called the young lord James?
She tilted her head and glanced at him sidelong. “Why, thank you, your grace. I can see from the sour expression on your face that everything is fine and we’re going to have a wonderful time.” The saucy chit tipped her eyes heavenward and blinked several times in rapid succession just as the coach made a turn, dumping her sideways. Laughing, she threw out an arm and caught herself before she tumbled all the way over.
Quite without his permission, Grey’s heart lightened and his anger slipped away. “I’m sorry I pulled you away from your admirer. It was rude and in very bad taste. I would be happy to return to the townhouse so you—”
She lean forward and grabbed his arm, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to the center of his chest. “Don’t you dare! Surely my teasing you does not warrant the punishment of making me listen to an afternoon of Lord Michaels confessing his undying love for me.”
Grey shot her a sideways glance. “Mmm… I think maybe it might. It is very bad manners to laugh at a duke.”
Her eyes widened and she covered her mouth with her hand. Lowering the hand to her chest, she said, “Oh my! Are you going to call me out? Shall I pick my second?” She exhaled. “Very well. I pick Lord Percy. And you may have Uncle Lucien.”
“Lucien!” he sputtered. “That hardly seems fair.”
She put her finger to her lips and tapped it as if contemplating this. The innocent gesture reignited the warm desire in the lower part of his belly, and he shifted to alleviate his discomfort.
“Hmm… that’s true. All right, your second shall be Lord Michaels, for I swear if that man tells me again that my name is poetry on his lips, I will not be responsible for my actions.” She heaved a sigh. “Honestly, why can’t a man just talk to a woman as if she were an intelligent person who—”
She clamped her mouth shut. Grey noticed her cheeks had turned a deep scarlet just before she averted her face and stared out the carriage.
“I’m sorry. That was — I’m sorry. I wasn’t speaking of you, your grace.”
The silence threatened to smother. The light-hearted banter had been fun, easy. How could he bring it back?
Grey cleared his throat. “Come now. No complimenting me in hopes that I will forget you laughed at me.”
She regarded him from behind the veil of her thick eyelashes and offered a sheepish grin. “Very well, your grace. I suppose there is nothing for it. We shall meet in the park at dawn.”
He snorted. “If that cur of my uncle’s is your second, then we will have to meet in the afternoon, for it will take him that long to drag himself to the park.”
Her infectious laughter filled the small space, shooting to his heart and then lower. An easy smile tugged at his lips and he relaxed into the seat.
“I rather think I might prefer Lady Charity for my second.” He gave an exaggerated shudder. “I don’t think I shall need a weapon if she’s a mind to use one of her ‘looks’.”
Wide-eyed, Magpie regarded him in silence. Grey stared back, certain his heart had stopped. Had he gone too far? Her lips twitched and she drew them inward as though to stop herself from speaking. Then she turned her head to stare out the window. Her shoulders trembled.
“Magpie…” He’d gone and made her cry. Astonished at his own insensitivity, he reached out to touch her on the arm. “I’m sorry. That was thoughtless.”
She spun around and pinned him with her gaze, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “One of her ‘looks’?” A laugh erupted and a grin spread across her face. Wetness leaked from the corners of her eyes. “Oh dear, those are horrid, aren’t they? I do believe one of her ‘looks’ might take down the most formidable opponent.” She slipped a handkerchief from her reticule and dabbed at the tears of mirth spreading over her cheeks.
Relief spread like fire over a dry log and Grey joined in her laughter. How could he lose himself so easily in the tawny-eyed beauty who was still a complete mystery to him?
With a jerk, the coach pulled to a stop and the footman opened the door. Grey offered his arm and she stepped from the carriage.
Her mouth fell open and her eyes widened. “How wonderful!”
Grey smiled. He’d passed the museum many times over the years but never looked upon it through the eyes of wonder. The building had obviously been designed to elicit a strong effect on mind and heart. Papyrus columns stood on either side of the entrance. Above the door, two full-size statues, one of Isis and one of Osiris, flanked a huge window. Grey tracked the design upward, raising his eyebrows as he caught sight of a pair of Sphinx in profile with their backs to one another.
He dropped his gaze to his companion, far more interested in watching the beautiful magpie than looking at the museum entrance. As alluring as the outside of the exhibition hall might be, next to her, he found it wanting.
She stared at the building, wordless, unmoving, her eyes and mouth widening as she leaned her head back to see to the top. A stout older woman bumped against Grey then turned to glare at him before tightening her hold on her escort. He should guide her inside but her frank admiration of the beautiful structure enthralled him. How was it she didn’t notice the people dodging around them while she stared agog?
A younger man allowed his gaze to roam freely over Magpie as he passed by, to the obvious vexation of the stylish young woman clinging to his arm. Grey scowled, irritation rubbing over him with the intensity of a swarm of bees.
He settled his arm around her shoulders and urged her toward the entrance. “I do believe you will find the collection inside much more interesting.”
“Of course, your grace.” The slant of afternoon sunlight flashed in her eyes as she smiled up at him. “I so hope you don’t mind if we visit the Pantherion first.”
“Whatever you would like is fine.” Grey guided her through the doors into the dimly lit foyer. He paid the admission of two shillings and purchased one of the Museum Companions.
Her eyes brightened when he placed the book in her hands. “For me?”
Then she smiled and his heart kicked against his lungs.
Grey offered her his arm and led her to the Pantherion. As they stepped into the room, she let out a sharp gasp and halted. Startled, he stole a glance her way. Magpie’s eyes darted around the room, lighting on nothing in particular as she looked first around the ceiling and then along the walls. She twirled once and stopped facing him, her eyes glistening, a wide smile drawn across her face.
“Thank you.”
In that moment, there wasn’t anywhere he’d rather be — or anyone he would rather be with. Words failed him, and Grey could only incline his head and then guide her forward.
Magpie sneezed. It was a delicate sound but the old biddy standing next to her shot her a look to rival one of Charity’s as she scuttled away.
“I beg your pardon,” murmured Magpie, blinking. “It’s a bit dusty in here.”
It was dusty, and the mummified animals carried a vague musty odor. They should leave, take a walk in the park. But she was already bent over, peering carefully at an exhibit of ground creatures.
Glass cases containing preserved animals of different shapes and sizes lined the outer perimeter of the room. The display boxes had been stacked and extended well over halfway up the walls. A variety of trinkets and collectible pieces covered the remaining space. In the center stood a jungle scene with luxurious plants, trees, and animals in their native setting.
“Would you look at all this,” said the beauty beside him as she studied the room with wide-eyed astonishment. “Have you ever seen the likes o’ this?”
“No,” murmured Grey, watching the shadows from the dim lighting play across Magpie’s face as she raced to each exhibit with the innocence and verve of a child.
When was the last time he’d felt truly excited about anything? Joy had disappeared from his life long ago, replaced by a growing resentment with each new debutante who hoped he’d make her the next Duchess of Wyndham. It hadn’t taken much interaction with a world in which everyone seemed to want his company for what he could bring to their lives or how he could line their pockets for him to desire nothing more than the seclusion afforded by his study.
He tore his gaze from Magpie’s face, unable to look on her and think of the ugliness he’d lived with since his father’s death. He’d never stopped missing his father. But from the moment Alexander Markwythe had fallen under the spell of Lady Regina, Grey’s relationship with his father had grown distant. Grey’s world had been empty since the old man’s death. Filling his days with work and social functions had done nothing to alleviate the loneliness.
His brother had somehow understood all that. In his way, Will had tried to warn Grey, but he’d rather foolishly refused to listen. And the last time he’d seen his brother, they had said terrible things to one another. Things Grey now longed to take back, apologize for.
If he ever found Will.
Each day that passed with no word left Grey more and more discouraged and he feared he would never see his brother again.
Laughter jerked him out of his morbid pondering.
Magpie laughed again. The sing-song sound bounced off the walls and filled the room. Grey darted a look around. A small group of patrons stared at her with censure before moving away.
Her cheeks had gone crimson, as she twirled once with delight.
“You might try to contain yourself. People are staring,” Grey chided softly.
“I am sorry. It’s just… oh my!”
She covered her mouth with her hands but her eyes reflected merriment. “In the guide book it says rhinoceros… fury—” She broke off laughing again, unable to speak, and handed him the pamphlet, pointing to a passage with another giggle.
Grey furrowed his brow and started reading, wondering what could be so amusing about such an enormous and ugly beast. “…it seems at times to be subject to paroxysms of fury—”
At the word fury, her laughter bubbled out again, interrupting him.
“P-p-paroxysms of f-fury!” She guffawed louder.
Another group of people hurried by, casting furtive glances. No doubt they wondered at her sanity. Grey’s face heated. Her outbursts were making them the center of attention. Clenching and unclenching his jaw, he pushed back the urge to drag her out of the museum.
He cleared his throat. “I beg your pardon? Perhaps you might share with me and the rest of the visitors you are disturbing what is so funny about a large animal’s fury.”
She straightened her stance and glanced around sheepishly at the people watching. The dim lighting darkened the color that flooded her cheeks. “I do apologize, your grace. I am sorry. It’s just… we…”
“Yes?”
“It’s you!” she announced then covered her mouth to stifle more laughter.
“Me?” He jerked backward.
Her head bobbed up and down. “Yes, you. Why, even now you’re glaring at me in the same manner as the beast. And I am almost certain when you entered the parlor you were having a paroxysm of fury!” Her voice lost its customary genteel quality and raised an octave with the word fury as her whole body shook with mirth. She lifted her eyes to meet his and pointed first at him then at the rhino. “See, even now you have the same expression on your face.” She then bunched her eyebrows together, squinted her eyes, and squeezed her lips into a tight thin line.
Grey hid the chuckle that escaped through his mouth by coughing. “Indeed. I believe I am about to subject you to that… um… fury again. Unless one of the other patrons beats me to it.” He took her by the arm and led her around the rear of the exhibit. “Come along, we have much to see, if you think you can behave yourself.”
“I promise to be on my best behavior, your grace.”
Grey gave her a sidelong glance. “In that case, we should probably leave now.”
The smile she bestowed on him sent thunderclaps of heat racing through his body to knock against his heart, the sudden surge of warm desire melting a huge part of the cold barrier he had surrounded it with. Of their own accord, his lips curved up in response and he gave her arm a little squeeze.
All of a sudden, Grey’s tension drained. She energized him with her excitement. He stopped trying to remember the last time he had so thoroughly enjoyed himself, choosing instead to benefit from the pleasure of her company. He scarcely noticed any of the exhibits, but his companion’s reaction to the many sights fascinated him. It wasn’t enough for her to simply study the displays, she insisted on reading every detail from the guidebook and the companion he had purchased for her.
Enchantment washed over her face as she marveled at learning a giraffe stood more than seventeen feet tall, then cried when she read how someone named Mr. Gordon had killed one of docile creatures, deeming him the cruelest person in the world.
He opened his mouth to point out that it was hardly fair to curse Mr. Gordon when the very exhibits she was enjoying were compiled of animals that had met their end too soon as well and surprised himself by snapping his mouth shut. He refused to tarnish this experience for her.
She looked up at him, her eyes and face full of awe. “Isn’t it magnificent, your grace?”
You are the magnificent one. He cleared his throat, barely stopping himself before speaking the words aloud. “It… um… is quite interesting, Magpie.” How could he possibly answer her when he had not a clue to what exhibit she was referring?
“Interesting? Surely such elegant black and white stripes are better than interesting. Although, I must admit, your Spanish stallion is by far more beautiful than even the zebra.”
Her words flowed over him like balm. Grey wanted to touch her; either hold her hand or wrap his arm around her waist. He froze, shocked by the idea. He had never wanted to express affection in such a way before. His blood heated and his heart quickened. But it was something more as well. Something he shied away from considering too deeply in the same fashion Satan shied from the cart.
It wasn’t only that he wanted to touch her; he truly enjoyed just being in her company. As they wandered from section to section, he lost himself in watc
hing her.
Who are you, really? Where have come from?
He thanked God she had come into his life… and then prayed for the Lord to keep her there.
Grey followed her, happy to let her study and admire at her leisure. Even found himself forgetting they were not alone. And when she read about the flying fish and laughed out loud, he joined her. Then when she saw the necklace made of human bone and declared it to be ghastly, Grey found himself agreeing.
Magpie surprised him by spending the most time at the display of birds. The information and facts seemed to intrigue her. Lips moving silently, she took care to read each paragraph of the guide, sometimes with a frown of concentration creasing her forehead.
“The eagle has been known to carry off a small child!” she exclaimed, pressing a hand to her abdomen in what appeared as a reflexive protective gesture.
Grey’s heart squeezed against his lungs at the image of his little magpie, her belly swollen with child. He struggled to draw his next breath, but she’d already stepped on to the next display, a case with hummingbirds.
“Oh my,” she said with a sigh, staring in awe and not saying another word.
The case with the crows drew Grey’s attention — in particular, the magpies. He stared at the bird with the white chest and lower body and black head and wings and then the larger of the breed with its glorious blue feathers that trailed into a long, elegant tail with a beautiful brownish red head and wings just slightly darker than his magpie’s eyes.
When exactly did I start thinking of her as mine?
The exit loomed ahead and Magpie sent Grey a pout that his heart echoed. A pang settled over him when he considered their return to the townhouse. How would he go back to the twisted normalcy his life had become of late after the past weeks spent in the magic of her company?
He couldn’t.
Placing a hand at her waist, Grey helped the Lady Magpie into the waiting carriage, allowing his hands to linger a little longer than necessary. The yellow muslin was even softer than he’d imagined. A bit of the museum’s mustiness clung on the air, but his nose sought and found the soft scent of roses that he’d come to think of as hers.
