Chapter 9
The following morning, Jem slept longer than he’d intended and found himself alone in the bed.
He groaned. One of his favorite things was starting his day snuggling with Reese.
But it didn’t surprise him that she had risen early and left without waking him.
Today was her and Ellen’s prep day for tomorrow’s trip to Gareth’s tenant village, where Reese had spent so much time during their first visit.
Jem knew her efforts there had saved lives.
As soon as he got out of bed, someone tapped on the door. That would be the valet assigned to Jem. He had tried to convince Gareth one wasn’t necessary, but the earl’s response had been a demand for Jem to tie his own cravat. So, he had taken the cloth and done it up like he would a tie.
Gareth had simply done one of his imperious brow lifts, his mouth curving into a smug grin. He glanced at the valet. “Your duty will be to make sure Mr. Taylor is properly attired in a manner fitting every occasion.”
“Yes, my Lord,” the man agreed, never losing his stoic composure.
Jem determined at that moment to pay particular attention to the man’s mannerisms. The community theater was scheduled to perform The Marriage of Figaro in the spring, and Jem planned to audition for the valet. So, he resisted the temptation to give the poor guy any grief as he dressed him.
At least the cravat wasn’t any tighter around his neck than a tie, and the clothing Aunt Nellie had provided for his stay didn’t have the high collars popular during the Regency period.
Jem already missed his jeans, especially the zipper. With so many buttons to undo on the button-fly panel on the front of the trousers, he sure couldn’t risk waiting when Mother Nature called.
Once fully dressed, he skipped down the stairs, his stomach rumbling. When he arrived in the dining room, Gareth, Michael, George, and the Colonel sat at the table eating. The earl and the Colonel were discussing something in the newspaper while Michael and his grandfather chatted.
“Good morning,” Gareth said, glancing up.
“Morning.” Jem went to the sideboard and lifted a cloche to expose the sausages. “Where are the ladies?”
“They’ve already taken over the drawing room,” Michael said. “Ellen’s been accumulating donations for months, and Cook has been busy baking treats to take to the cottier village.”
Jem piled his plate with delicious food and took the seat next to Michael. “Do they need us this morning?”
“Not until tomorrow,” Gareth said. “Catherine has given me strict orders to make myself scarce and take all the gentlemen with me.”
“Ellen did say there wasn’t room for everyone to help, and she’s worried the men will try to boss them around.” Michael shot the earl an accusatory look.
“I am not bossy,” Gareth insisted with a touch of amusement. “I simply have a commanding air about me.”
“Right,” Michael said dryly.
Jem glanced at George. “How is Beatrice this morning?”
“She is resting but hopes to join us for dinner,” the older man said happily.
“Good to hear.” Jem admired her gumption to try again, considering how absolutely terrified she had been last time.
From what Michael said, George had spent some time at Twickenham before moving to Kellworth after the marriage. Jem couldn’t help wondering if the man had spent time in the portrait gallery. Jem had a feeling their obvious attachment would help with her adjustment.
“Jem, I thought while the ladies are otherwise occupied, you might be interested in learning about falcon training and taking part in a hunt,” Gareth said, folding his newspaper.
Michael wiped his mouth with his napkin. “The Kellworth falcons are something to see.”
“Is it anything like a Hawk Walk?” Jem asked, his excitement for the day increasing. “I read about those done at a castle in Ireland.”
Gareth’s expression turned wry. “I do not know how they might conduct a walk with hawks.”
“A Hawk Walk is where guests have a chance to literally walk with a hawk,” Michael explained.
“Right,” Jem agreed. “They don’t hunt with them. They walk a path with the bird perched on a gauntlet along with professional falconers. The video showed them teaching the guests how to send their birds into flight. They return and land on the person’s glove for a hawk treat of fresh-cut meat.”
“What is a video?” the Colonel asked, looking up from his food.
Oops! Jem widened his eyes at the slip. His mind searched for a way to explain without saying too much.
“It is an American saying,” Gareth said smoothly, dismissing it as of no importance. Jem mimed wiping his brow, and the earl bit back a smile.
“I would love to see your falcons,” he said.
“Very good. I believe you will find how we train my birds entertaining.” Gareth rose from the table. “Be sure to dress warmly.”
Once Jem had on a heavy coat, he found the other men in the drawing room doorway checking on their ladies. Reese sat on a chair, her gown pulled around her feet, giving directions. Just what she loved to do.
She finally glanced up and moved as though to stand. Jem gestured for her to remain seated before blowing her a kiss.
The other women exchanged understanding grins. Even Beatrice smiled shyly from her chair near the fireplace, with a blanket on her lap and the empty portrait nearby. She looked a lot better already.
“I just wanted to let you know we’re going on a falcon walk,” Jem said to his wife.
Reese’s expression turned doubtful, and she warned, “I don’t think it’s the same thing here.”
“Oh, it’s definitely not,” Catherine said knowingly. “But don’t feel too bad about the birds they kill. They will provide food.”
Jem mouthed to Reese, “I love you,” and left to join the men who had moved to the front door.
Gareth led the men across the crunchy lawn, their breath puffing around them.
The grounds of Kellworth had impressed Jem during their first stay, but the beauty meant even more now.
Ellen’s involvement in their design had increased since her marriage to Michael, who had worked as a landscape architect in his time.
He had mentioned wanting to take her to the future to show her his projects, but she had to get over her fear first.
The earl finally came to a stop near a covered perch with a falcon, its feathers sleek. Nearby stood an older man, his eyes as sharp and keen as the bird’s.
“This is Deacon,” Gareth said. “He has been training Kellworth falcons for years.”
Deacon nodded. “His Lordship thought you might fancy giving it a go.”
“Heck, yeah.” Jem pulled a face. “But I’ve never done it before.”
The Colonel gave a stiff nod. “Falconry is no idle pastime. It is a test of patience and discipline.” He scowled as though he doubted Jem had it in him.
“I’m a married man, so I’ve learned a lot about patience.”
All the married men laughed, including Deacon. The Colonel gave a harrumph.
“Just don’t be startling her,” the falconer warned. “She can carry off a glove faster than you might think.”
He then helped Jem secure the leather gauntlet over his hand. Deacon removed a leather bundle wrapped around meat and small feathers. He held it up to catch the bird’s attention, then swung it around in slow circles.
“Now, hold your arm up, steady as you can,” Deacon said. “She’ll be coming when she’s ready.”
Careful to mimic the man’s stance, Jem did as instructed. In a swift move, the falcon launched from the perch in a wide arc, her wings cutting through the air. Gracefully, she circled once before diving toward his outstretched arm, talons extended.
What if she missed and hit him with those? He was tempted to close his eyes but forced them to stay open. Her landing surprised him with its gentleness.
“She’s magnificent,” Jem breathed.
“Well done,” Gareth said, arching his brows.
“She’s intelligent and is merely humoring the novice.” The Colonel crossed his arms.
Jem exchanged an amused glance with Michael.
“Do you have experience with a rifle?” Gareth asked.
“Not really,” Jem admitted. “I live in a larger city, and it’s against the law to fire weapons within city limits.”
Gareth gave an understanding nod. “Today, we will hunt for Cook. The better we shoot, the less she will complain about our incompetence. Some of the meat will be served at the dinner party Catherine and Ellen are planning to welcome Beatrice home.”
Jem must have missed that discussion. The last time he had been to a dinner party at Kellworth, he crashed it to propose to Reese.
From the earl’s expression, he must be remembering it too. Jem exchanged a questioning glance with him and tilted his head toward the Colonel. Gareth glanced at the man, then at Jem again, and nodded slowly. They needed to figure out how to encourage the older man to propose to Evangeline.
As Reese would say, it was time for the poor woman to get her happily ever after.