Chapter Three
“Bloody hell! A stranger!” The bird flapped its red, gold, and green wings for a second. “Stranger no good!”
Arthur tried to keep from smiling. It wasn’t every day one came across a talking parrot, much less one that swore. He neared the bird slowly. “What’s your name?”
“Bollocks!”
He bit back a laugh at the bird’s response. “Your name is Bollocks?”
“Hell no! Me Sam! Sam.”
“Nice to meet you, Sam.”
Arthur didn’t receive an answer this time. Instead, Sam stood on one foot and then the other. Was he agitated or was this normal behavior? He had no way of knowing, so keeping his distance might be best for both. The last thing he needed was an angry parrot.
At that moment, the door opened and Jameson, the butler, entered. “Lady Andover will see you momentarily,” he said. He glanced at the bird. “I see you’ve met Sam. I hope he’s been a gentleman.”
“He has, though he’s got quite the mouth on him.”
“He does,” Jameson replied. “Tea will be here momentarily. If you need anything further, please let me know.” He gestured toward a bell pull in one corner of the room.
“I shall, thank you.”
Alone again, except for his feathered companion.
Curious choice of a pet. Nonetheless, he found the creature smarter than most others and wondered how he came to be.
Perhaps the viscount had been to a South American country and brought him back for his family.
An unusual pet, but one none of their friends could boast they owned.
Hearing the parrot’s wings flap, he turned his attention in the direction of the bird. Arthur watched as the bird jumped down off the safety of the perch to the floor. Could the creature fly to get away from any sort of danger or would it be at the mercy of its predator?
He watched as Sam began flapping his wings before walking across the room as though it was an everyday occurrence.
“Mama, mama, mama!” the bird screeched as he put his wings back where they belonged. He didn’t seem in distress, but Arthur decided to try something.
“Is something wrong, Sam?”
“Sam I am, Sam I am, bloody hell.”
Sam was walking toward him, and he wasn’t sure if it was good or not. If the bird were angry, he had no idea what to expect.
“Sam? Who’s your mama?”
“Mama, Sam. Mama! Danger! Sam danger!”
Arthur wondered how many people knew of Sam outside of the immediate area. Probably few if any. The parrot wasn’t like a dog who stayed close by and returned home if separated from its master. Unless its wings weren’t clipped, he doubted a bird could survive.
“Sam, are you in danger?”
“Sam danger.”
He stopped at Arthur’s feet before flapping his wings and landing on the arm of the couch next to him.
Before he knew what was happening, Sam was perched on his shoulder.
He didn’t dare move. Knowing nothing about birds, he wasn’t sure if this was a good sign or a bad one.
He didn’t want to know if it were the latter.
The parrot could bite his ear or face. A horrid thought.
“How are you in danger, Sam?” he asked again.
“Stranger, danger. Bollocks! Help Sam!”
Looking straight ahead, Arthur spoke again. “Sam, there’s no one here but you and me. I have no desire to hurt you.”
He heard the door open behind him. He didn’t dare try to move as he wasn’t sure how Sam would react. Flapping his wings made him even more unsure as Sam jumped off his shoulder and on to the floor once more. Arthur stood perfectly still, as though his legs were made of concrete.
“Mama! Mama! Bloody danger!”
“It’s all right, Sam. The man won’t hurt us.”
Arthur turned to find himself looking into the eyes of an icy blonde goddess.
Her pale blue eyes immediately caught his attention.
Never had he been drawn to a woman like he was with this one before him.
She was wearing a dark-green day dress. He could remember little else as he was struck by her beauty.
“I see you’ve met Sam, Your Grace.”
His throat seized up and he had to force himself to speak. “Yes. He’s quite colorful.”
“Indeed.” She thrust out a hand to him. “I am Lady Andover, but you may call me Lady Daphne as I am not my mother.” She smiled as Arthur took her small hand in his. She was small in stature but had the presence of an warrior.”
“I am the Duke of Hightower, as you know, but you may call me…”
“Hightower,” she interjected before he had a chance to finish his sentence.
“Now that that’s settled, I wanted to meet with you to discuss your horse, Vicki’s continued escape from your property and onto mine. Mind you, I only want you to ensure you’ll keep the mare in a fenced environment, so this does not continue.”
“If you want to remedy the situation, you need to fix the holes in your walls and fences,” she snapped.
Arthur swore her eyes darkened to a deeper shade of blue. Her demeanor had changed, and he wasn’t sure he liked it. “Everything on my estate is repaired or in the midst of being repaired as we speak.”
“Then we have nothing to worry about, do we?”
“Only that you need to also repair holes in your walls and fences so she doesn’t continue to leave the grounds.”
“The maintenance of my father’s estate is none of your concern, Your Grace,” she said.
Arthur ignored her comment. He was certain she was trying to get a rise out of him. “There’s the matter of a mysterious rider racing across the meadow on a portion of the estate. The rider has no respect for horses and is going to end up getting hurt or the gray will end up hurt if this continues.”
“You’ve made your point.”
“My words fall on deaf ears, milady.”
“Really, Your Grace, do you always have such a flair for the dramatic?”
The door opened and a footman rolled in a cart filled with dainty sandwiches, cakes, and tea. Once the young man left, Lady Daphne walked over to the cart. “How do you like your tea, Your Grace?” She set out two porcelain cups and saucers, waiting for his response.
“I’m sorry, milady. I won’t be able to stay for tea. I am expecting a visitor, so I need to get back.” It was all a lie, but he had no desire to spend one more minute with this selfish, arrogant young lady.
“Your wife can’t entertain them for a while?”
“I’m not married,” he replied curtly.
“Ah, that explains a lot. Another time?”
“Yes, another time.”
She glided across the Persian carpet towards him. “Good day, Your Grace. I trust you can find your way out?”
Off to one side, Sam squawked. “Good day, Your Grace.” That was finished with another swear word. “Bollocks.”
“Yes, I can find my way. By the way, who taught Sam all those swear words?”
Lady Daphne smirked. “I have no idea. It certainly wasn’t me.” She fluttered her eyelashes, pretending to be oh-so-innocent.
Arthur turned and headed towards the door. He was about to open the oak door when he heard Lady Daphne’s voice.
“It was a pleasure meeting you, Your Grace.” Her voice was like syrup, all sweet while being condescending at the same time.
He nodded as he headed through the opening. “Indeed.”
Grabbing his hat and gloves from a marble-topped table in the entry, Arthur left the house.
He looked out towards the fountain where he found Rolo holding Midnight by his reins.
The stallion was being quiet for once. He usually liked to paw impatiently as he had too much energy for standing and waiting.
“Thank you, Rolo,” he said as he took the reins and threw them over the horse’s head.
“He’s really a good horse for being a stallion.”
“Yes, he rarely gets mean. He has to be provoked.”
Arthur was about to mount when Rolo gave him pause not to.
“I hope your visit with Lady Daphne went well, Your Grace.”
“It was what I expected. Oh, and I met that delightful parrot, Sam.”
“Sam swears a lot, doesn’t he?” Rolo laughed.
“He does indeed. Do you see him often?”
“Every day. I clean up after him. He makes quite the mess with seeds and things. I also feed him unless Lady Daphne says otherwise.”
Arthur laughed. He could imagine Lady Daphne as a cold, hard woman to work for. “Well, Master Rolo, I appreciate all your assistance today. Hopefully we’ll meet again under better circumstances.”
The young lad walked alongside him once he mounted. “I would like that, Your Grace. I’ll walk with you as far as the gate.”
“Excellent idea.”
The pair walked side by side down the drive to the gate, Rolo talking all the way. He pointed out what he thought might interest Arthur.
Arthur thought him to be a bright boy, far more than his years. He knew things most boys his age might not, and Arthur was certain the boy had little to no family.
The gate came into view and the young man ran up to it and swung the gate open. Arthur walked to where Rolo stood. “Make sure Vicki behaves herself and I don’t have to return her again.”
“I shall, Your Grace.”
“Next time she escapes, she’s going to have to hunt a way to get in. My men have fixed or are fixing the wall.”
Rolo nodded and glanced back toward the house, which was just beyond the rise in the road.
“Have a good day, Rolo. Call on me if you have a need.”
“I shall, Your Grace.”
Arthur cleared the opening and began to rein his stallion in.
Midnight wanted to run, but Arthur kept him contained until they were off the viscount’s property.
All in all, the visit had been a success.
Lady Daphne was not all sugar and spice.
She had her moments, as he witnessed, but he had the feeling that was brought on because her parents spoiled her, giving in to whatever demand she threw their way.
He decided he needed to find out more about the viscount and his family.
It was highly unusual for a daughter so young to be left alone without a proper chaperone.
He especially wanted to learn more about Lady Daphne.