Chapter 7
Seven
Chloe spent two days frantically trimming hats in the backroom of the store, still determinedly keeping away from the front shop where she might be noticed by the wrong noble lady. It wasn’t too late to salvage her plan where the Duke was concerned, and she refused to give up.
But on the third day, she finally had to admit that her system, weakened by the soaking and stress, had picked up a spring cold. Maddie tucked her into bed, ordering Ammy to keep her company while Maddie returned to her own small boarding room to fetch Chloe some stew.
Chloe’s attempted protests were ignored, and she finally had to concede her pitiful state when Ammy agreed to be separated from Maddie in order to remain with Chloe.
“Not that I need it,” she told the vendrillon firmly, even as she opened her arms for the warm creature to burrow into bed beside her.
She dozed after that, only waking when Maddie returned. She drew the line at having stew ladled into her mouth, however, insisting on sitting up and feeding herself. She drifted off to sleep again afterward, though, admitting silently that she was too weak to do much beyond lie still.
By the third day in bed, however, her patience had been long since exhausted. Maddie would have had her lie around for a week, but Chloe thought she would explode if she didn’t get back on her feet.
Maddie at least extracted a promise that Chloe wouldn’t work, a promise she soon regretted making.
What else was there to occupy her time? And it was essential that Chloe occupy her time and her thoughts.
She had spent far too much of the last few days in bed thinking of her misadventure and her second experience of being held in Captain Harrison’s arms.
And if she wasn’t thinking of the infuriatingly handsome and strong captain, she was thinking of the small, fragile young griffin.
Harrison had talked of her with sadness as if she were the runt of the squad, but Chloe couldn’t believe it.
The young griffin might have been small, but her lines and proportions had been elegant.
But perhaps she was sick? Having just risen from her own sick bed, Chloe sympathized to the fullest extent.
And before she knew what she was doing, she had started collecting blankets—softer ones than those she had used at the barracks—and leftovers of the stew Maddie had been feeding her.
It had nice chunks of meat and might appeal to the young griffin, who obviously couldn’t hunt for herself if she wasn’t even well enough for the mews.
Without thinking her plan through, she packed it all into a large basket and started for the manor, slipping out the back while Maddie was occupied in the front of the shop.
As she walked, uncertainty began to make itself heard.
Visiting the griffin meant a good chance of running into Captain Harrison.
There was even a chance she would run into the Duke himself, and she had no plans or stratagems in place. She wasn’t even dressed in a nice gown.
But having started, the basket heavy on her arm, she couldn’t bear to turn back. What if the little griffin was sitting alone in the barracks, all the men out, busy on squad business?
Her courage nearly failed her when she actually stood at the barrack’s door, although she had made it there without meeting anyone in the manor grounds.
But she glanced down at her basket and drew a deep breath.
Something about the unnamed griffin called to her, and she couldn’t ignore it. She rapped on the repaired door.
Steps sounded inside and someone pulled the door open. Chloe fell back a step, her heart sinking before bounding up again. She had reassured herself that the captain wouldn’t be hanging around the barracks during the day. But apparently she had been giving herself false hope.
“Chloe!” He looked her over, his brows pulled together. “Is something wrong? What are you doing here?”
She swallowed and held up her basket. “I came to visit the young griffin. I brought some things for her.”
“You brought some things…for the griffin.” He said the sentence as if the words were incomprehensible.
“Chloe!” Fletcher’s voice over his captain’s shoulder held far more welcome. “Well, come on, Captain. Don’t leave the lady standing outside.”
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said stiffly to Chloe, but Fletcher clapped him on the shoulder.
“Nonsense!” he said bracingly. “You heard the lady. She’s here for the griffin. You, of all people, can’t doubt someone caring more about griffins than people.” He chuckled as if at a private joke.
Harrison stepped stiffly aside, his eyes flashing a warning at the unabashed Fletcher. Chloe smiled at Fletcher as she entered, however. The captain might be the one to disrupt her thoughts, but it was impossible not to like the amiable lieutenant.
She moved straight to the nest in the far corner of the barracks’ hall, pleased to see the griffin was awake.
“I’ve brought you some presents,” she crooned to her. “I couldn’t help it when you’re such a beautiful girl.”
The griffin sat up straighter, a satisfied look transforming her face and making Fletcher laugh.
Chloe laid the softest blanket across the griffin’s haunches before getting out the stew and pouring it into the bowl she had brought ready. She glanced back at Harrison.
“She can stomach cooked meat?”
He nodded, and she turned back to the griffin. When the creature began to eat happily, she dared to reach out a careful hand and touch the feathers over her front shoulder.
“And what’s your name, beautiful girl?” she asked, marveling at the griffin’s softness.
Sage. The voice in her head was musical and higher than Ranger’s deep, bell-like tones.
“Sage!” Chloe crooned in delight. “A perfect name for a perfect girl. Both beautiful and wise.”
“What did you say?” For once the harsh, startled voice belonged to Fletcher.
Chloe twisted around to look back at the two men. Both regarded her with wide eyes and shocked faces, Harrison’s face drained of all color.
She frowned. “I thought griffins chose their own names? Surely you don’t dislike her choice! It has just the right feel for her.” She waved her hands vaguely, struggling to express the way the name suited the small griffin. “Don’t you think?”
“Sage isn’t your suggestion?” Fletcher clarified. “She told you her name was Sage?” He turned to Harrison. “But Captain, that means—”
“I know what it means.” Harrison cut him off sharply, his eyes still on Chloe.
She rose slowly to her feet. “I don’t understand. What’s the problem?”
“She spoke to you.” Fletcher shook his head. “I can’t believe it.”
“I still don’t understand.” Chloe looked pleadingly at Harrison. “What’s the big deal? Ranger speaks to me, too, sometimes.”
“True!” Fletcher looked at Harrison. “That will have to weigh with them all.”
Before the captain could answer, the door of the barracks burst open, and a stream of men poured into the room.
The ones in front froze at the sight of the scene before them, stillness sweeping along the line until all the men stood in a clump, staring between their captain and the young woman standing by the griffin.
A broad smile broke over the face of the one in front. “I see we have a visitor. Again.” The man behind him chuckled, but Chloe didn’t pay them much heed.
Anxiety she couldn’t quite explain thrummed through her. If something was wrong with Sage, she needed to know what it was.
“What is it?” she asked again. “Why does it matter that Sage spoke to me?”
“Who’s Sage?” one of the men asked, sounding bewildered.
Chloe shot him a confused look. “She is, of course.” She gestured toward the griffin beside her, and the entire room went instantly silent, except for Sage’s satisfied slurping.
Harrison gave a soft groan, and it was once again Fletcher who answered.
“Sage has announced her name. To Chloe.”
Instant uproar greeted his words, most of the men rushing to talk over the top of them.
“That is enough!” Chloe cried, her ringing tones cutting through the noise and rendering them all silent.
She glared at them and then turned to Harrison. “Could someone please explain what exactly is so shocking in this situation. Right now.”
Harrison glanced at his silenced men, a smile quirking the corner of his lips, but when he turned back to her, his gaze was serious.
“A griffin is born knowing its own name, but it only tells it to its own kind and the human with which it chooses to bond. This is the first time any of us have heard Sage’s name.”
Chloe’s mouth dropped open. “But wait…Are you saying…Sage has…” She knew she should repudiate the suggestion—she was a milliner, not a griffin rider! But as she looked at the small griffin, her heart swelled with love, and she knew she could never reject Sage.
You are mine. Sage didn’t look up from her bowl. Why shouldn’t you be?
Chloe laughed weakly, sinking back to the ground, her shaky knees giving out. She wrapped her arms around the griffin’s neck, no longer hesitant to touch her as she pressed her cheek against the griffin’s neck feathers.
A babble of quieter voices broke out again, and one of the men at the back of the group shouldered his way to the front, his eyes on Chloe.
“But I recognize her,” he said. “She’s the new milliner on High Street. My sister bought a hat from her only two weeks ago.”
Chloe flushed, her eyes leaping to Harrison.
He was staring at her, and she saw a flash of something cross his face at the man’s words, but the emotion was gone too quickly for her to identify.
She tried to remind herself that it didn’t matter what Harrison thought of her occupation.
She wasn’t ashamed of being a milliner, and she had never claimed to be a lady to either him or Fletcher. Quite the opposite in fact.
But another man had jumped on the first man’s protest. “We’re an elite fighting squad. We can’t accept a milliner into our ranks!”
Fletcher cast a wary glance at Harrison, who was now staring at Chloe’s arms wrapped around Sage’s neck. But the lieutenant didn’t speak on Chloe’s behalf. Her heart sank. If Fletcher wouldn’t speak for her, who would?
Not that she wanted to become part of their squad. But she couldn’t be separated from Sage.
A fresh wave of exclamations and protests broke out from the crowd of men, and Chloe clung to Sage more tightly.
“I don’t want to hear another word.” Harrison didn’t raise his voice, but every man in the squad heard him, falling instantly silent.
He turned to meet each of their eyes, his own gaze icy and his voice cold and commanding. “The choice isn’t yours. It’s not even mine. Sage is free to choose her own companion, and she has made her choice. Do you think any of our griffins would permit us to interfere?”
The men exchanged resigned looks. Clearly none of them felt strongly enough to fight their own griffin over the situation.
Harrison continued to stare them down, not finished.
“We’ve known for some time that Sage was unlikely to ever be able to fly with the squad.
At least not in full training or official flights.
So what does it matter if she’s partnered with a milliner?
Sage is still one of the flock, but she will never need to carry a partner into battle. ”
Rumbles of agreement broke out, the mood in the room shifting.
“This is good news, really,” Fletcher said, his earlier cheer returned. “Haven’t we been hoping Sage would choose a bond partner soon? You’ve brought in enough lads to meet her.” He looked at Chloe. “The captain has a theory that she might grow better once she’s bonded.”
“Of course you will, clever girl, won’t you?” Chloe crooned, pressing her cheek against Sage’s neck again.
Naturally I will do so, Sage said calmly, having finished as much of the stew as she could get out of the deep bowl.
Chloe laughed before remembering that the others might not have been able to hear Sage’s words.
“She says she will certainly grow more now.”
Fletcher and several of the other men burst out laughing, and the tight knot by the door broke up, the men clapping each other on the shoulders and several coming forward toward Chloe and Sage. But at one threatening look from Harrison, they changed directions, heading out of the hall.
“This isn’t something to be taken on lightly,” Harrison said warningly to Chloe.
She shrugged. “You must know that I could no more turn my back on Sage now than I could choose to stop breathing.”
“You’ll need to come by every day to learn how to care for her,” he continued, something in his eyes she couldn’t read.
She swallowed, thinking of the orders piling up for her at the shop, her mission with the Duke, and her spectacular failure at her resolution to avoid Harrison. But all of that paled beside Sage’s needs.
“Of course I’ll come every day,” she said with determination.
Somehow she would just have to make it work. And perhaps Sage would provide the solution to the main problem that beset her. Surely the Duke would be curious to meet the girl who had bonded with his smallest griffin—even if she was just a milliner.