Love Birds: The Complete Collection

by Ruth J. Hartman

  “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, bringing 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.

  Chapter Two

  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?

  He gave her a wink, causing shivers to race up her arms. He wasn’t the most handsome man, yet there was something about him… Rakish wasn’t exactly the word, though he had a gleam in his eye that told of wild secrets just begging to jump free. No it was more an expression of an experienced man.

  In matters of love.

  Had he been previously married? Most men his age were either widowed or married. A part of her longed to know. To ask about his past, delve into his depths and discover what made him unique.

  Of course, once she opened that particular door, she’d feel as if she’d have to speak of Albert. Terrible memories of his painful illness were best kept hidden. Maybe someday, if she and Mr. Radcliff formed a friendship, she’d speak of her husband.

  But not today.

  Today was for new beginnings. At least, she hoped so.

  “Lovely day, isn’t it, Lady Peregrine?”

  “What?” Georgiana’s heart gave a lurch at his words. “Oh. Certainly.” What must he think? He’d invited her for an outing to… wherever, and she sat across from him woolgathering about her former husband.

  Very improper, Georgiana. Focus. It was killing her not to know their destination. Don’t ask, don’t ask, don’t — I can’t stand it! “I don’t believe you mentioned where it was we were going.”

  “I didn’t?”

  “No.”

  “Oh.”

  She tapped her finger on her knee and frowned. Was that all he was going to say on the subject? Georgiana opened her mouth, intent on making a scathing reply but closed it just as quickly. You must be on your best behavior today.

  Gritting her teeth together as a reminder to watch her tongue, she forced out the words, “I’m sure wherever we’re headed will be a nice adventure indeed.”

  Mr. Radcliff raised one eyebrow and leaned forward, studying her face as if she was a rare albino goose. “Are you unwell, Lady Peregrine?”

  “No. Why?”

  “Your face has gone quite red.” He pointed toward her. “And your mouth…”

  “Yes, what about it?” Her jaws were beginning to ache from clenching.

  “Well it… it reminds me of a pelican I once saw a portrait of.”

  Unable to stand it anymore, she relaxed her mouth. “A pelican?” Something told her this was not going to be as complimentary as Mr. Radcliff’s peregrine comment.

  “It had a downturned mouth, lips, that is if pelican’s indeed do possess lips, were pulled low at the sides, nearly to its chin. Do those birds even have chins?”

  “I’m sure I wouldn’t know.” Though it was an interesting question…

  His eyes widened. “Oh, I just realized you might have misconstrued my pelican comment.”

  “You mean about its lips, or its chin? Or the question of whether it is in possession of either.”

  “I hadn’t meant it in any way negative, I assure you.”

  “Of course not. How could a woman ever find even a hint of anything untoward in your comment?” Georgiana, you’re doing it again. Be pleasant.

  Mr. Radcliff sat back against his seat. He openly stared at her. Was he regretting his invitation for today? Contemplating tossing her from the moving carriage? Then, a slow — could she even call it seductive? — smile appeared. “I say, you really are a saucy one, aren’t you?”

  Saucy? She blinked. He wasn’t angry? “I can honestly say you’re the first to give me that particular adjective, Mr. Radcliff.”

  He leaned toward her again and grabbed her hand. “Please. Call me Percy.”

  Christian names? Already? “Oh, well… I am Georgiana.”

  He tilted his head to one side and closed his eyes. Was he going to take a nap? “Georgiana. I’ve never heard such a melodious name.” He tugged her hand closer until it rested against his chest. This left Georgiana in a very uncomfortable stance half-sitting, half-standing, trying not to fall into his lap.

  Again.

  Much more of inspecting the man’s private area and she really would earn the saucy nomenclature.

  Her left leg, upon which most of her weight rested, began to tingle. Not now. Please don’t fall asleep here. A quick check told her the man’s eyes were still closed. How long was she expected to—

  Abruptly, he opened his eyes and let go of her hand at the same instant. Georgiana’s leg, now completely gone numb, gave way. Her awkward position, still bent over him forced her forward.

  Not again!

  She collapsed in a heap, draped across his chest and yes, his lap. He’d think her a trollop.

  “My dear Lady Peregrine!” He grabbed her upper arms to steady her. “If you wish to spend time on top of my person, you could have simply asked.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Obviously, you like what you see.” He wiggled his eyebrows and gave a slight toss of his head. As if he was preening.

  Like a bird.

  Good heavens, could it be? Had she actually found someone with whom she could share her love of—

  Percy’s lips crashed down on hers. Georgiana gasped, though she couldn’t really get much air into her lungs around his lips. What did he think he was about? She placed her hands against his chest, intent on shoving him away. But something came over her. A warmth that started in her lips, traveled down and circled around her heart, then shot lower to her pelvis.

  It had been so long since she’d felt that sensation she nearly hadn’t recognized it.

  Well hello there. Nice to have you back again.

  She grinned against Percy’s lips, fully intent on spending the rest of the day right in that very
spot. Perhaps if she pressed closer they could—

  The carriage slowed and stopped.

  Percy, looking reluctant, ended the kiss and blinked. “Perhaps it’s a good thing we’re already on a Christian name basis, hmmm?”

  Chapter Three

  Percy tamped down the nervous butterflies in his stomach. Although as obnoxious as they were behaving, perhaps they were more like courting bats. Why in the world was he so fidgety? He’d been with countless women in his lifetime. Countless. What was so different about this one?

  He snuck a glance at Georgiana, who had her hand atop his arm. Not a raving beauty. And as clumsy as he was. There was just something about her. Something that drew him in, beckoned for another look, an invitation to spend time getting to know her better.

  And she did like birds.

  Percy led her around to the back garden where a picnic was to have been arranged. Too bad it wouldn’t be just the two of them. His nephew Barrington and niece Cecilia would be there too. Percy couldn’t very well decline the invitation. He did live with them, after all.

  Barrington’s valet, Daniel, and Cecilia’s maid Leah, who was Daniel’s wife, would also be in attendance. Perhaps some would think it strange that the servants would be guests at the picnic, but they happened to be close, treasured friends of Percy’s niece and nephew as well, more like family. Percy took great delight in the fact that he’d been instrumental in getting the two couples to find matrimonial bliss.

  His family often teased him about that. About his success at finding love for others but not for himself. It wasn’t that he was unlucky with the fairer sex — he wasn’t. In truth, he’d had more than his share of conquests. Still, that elusive state of happily ever after continued to escape him.

  With a glance at Georgiana, he wondered, Will this time be different? Is it finally my turn?

  As Georgiana and Percy reached the garden, he spotted others seated beneath a shade tree. He squinted, not quite able to identify the guests. Darn these aging eyes! Ah… It was Cecilia’s brother and wife, Lord and Lady Lofton — Conrad and Amelia — and…

  An older woman plump and frowning, perhaps his age, was also seated there. Oh. It was Conrad’s mother, the dowager. What was her name… Miriam? Percy had met her once or twice over the years, but she’d never been terribly social. Or friendly. What was she doing here today? He’d heard she rarely made an attempt to leave her house.