Page 50 of His Stolen Duchess
“It looks like a folly to me,” Lysander commented.
“It does to me, too, Your Grace. It’s like every other folly we have built around here, but we were told it could also be an aviary pavilion, though I’m not sure what that is. It’s not for me to question, Your Grace.”
“No, I suppose not.”
“So, are we to continue our work, or do you wish us to stop for now? I have another job my men can get started on in this area.”
Lysander sighed. He wanted to halt the work, but he could already hear the inevitable argument that would follow. Georgina had a way of arguing so vehemently that it was not worth his while to contest it. It wasn’t much of an addition, and he could easily afford it.
“Continue with the work,” he said solemnly.
The Duke looked around his garden and immediately rued his words. He’d been so distracted by the folly that he hadn’t noticed the other work that had been completed during his absence. They had only been there for three days, but so much had already changed.
His business meetings ran late into the evening, and when he could finally return to the townhouse, there was no reason for him to be wandering about in his darkened garden. Moreover, he was usually too tired to do so after the meetings.
“Georgina!” Lysander called.
The three laborers looked at the Duke, then got back to work.
A moment later, Georgina appeared from the house’s side entrance with the parrot perched on her extended arm.
“Look how content he is,” Georgina said. “I believe that the town agrees with him, and the garden is so much better now, don’t you think?”
“No, I don’t think so,” Lysander grumbled. After some reflection, he realized he couldn’t recall the last time he had spent time in his garden. “What is the meaning of all this? And why do we need a folly?”
Georgina was staring at the parrot on her arm, which still didn’t move.
“Even when you are angry, he is still unperturbed,” she gushed. “This is the calmest I have ever seen him. So yes, it could be called a folly, but that is only because people are unable to think of ways to use it. In our garden, it will be an aviary enclosure. Mr. Squawksby is a tropical bird, and he is used to warmer weather.I worry that he might catch his death in the rain, and you don’t want a dead parrot on your hands, do you?”
“You are very adept at inventing arguments where the answer is obvious. This is not about whether I want to see a parrot dead. It is about you trying to justify a building that we do not need. We are here for the week, but we will spend most of our time back at the manor.”
“I know you wouldn’t wish any ill on Mr. Squawksby, and that is why I didn’t bother you with such a trivial matter, Your Grace. You have been so busy with work, taking care of the dukedom and your subjects within it, and you don’t have time to be authorizing purchases for the garden, so I took that off your plate.”
The Duke shook his head again as he looked around. He didn’t know where to start. “No, I don’t have time for trivial matters, but changing the layout of the entire garden is not trivial. Yes, the garden is yours, but not yours alone. So, we have a folly that your parrot can hide in when it rains?”
Georgina raised her eyebrows and nodded at the docile bird on her arm. “I know you want him to be this quiet and calm. This is what you want, isn’t it?”
“Stop with these arguments, I beseech you,” the Duke said. “I want you to stop justifying your changes and trying to make it about me when it is clearly about you. And it is not only a folly, is it? Do parrots have a penchant for wrought iron? A simple wooden folly would have sufficed, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes, but the iron will catch the morning sunlight magnificently, and just think how it will look in a golden sunset!”
“And that is a consideration for parrots, is it? Is he used to a tropical climate and only metal buildings? Is it because they remind him of his cage?”
“No, he doesn’t care what material his enclosures are made from, but I thought that if I were having folly installed, it might as well be one that would look right in the garden, and it does look right, doesn’t it?”
The Duke turned away from the folly and walked over to the small, raised beds that had once held roses and tulips. “I see lavender and fuchsia. What else am I looking at?”
“Verbena,” Georgina replied. “Now, I know what you are going to say, but perhaps you have also experienced this. I know I have not, but you’ve been overseas with the military, haven’t you?”
Lysander didn’t want to discuss his time in the military. “Yes, I’ve been to France.”
“And did you ever see an English rose while you were in France?” she asked.
Lysander sighed. “I did not.”
“Still, I bet you would have loved to have seen one during your time there.” Georgina reached out and touched the leaves of thepotted lemon tree. “It would have been a reminder of home for you. That is all I want for Mr. Squawksby. He will never return to his homeland, and I find that incredibly sad. The least I can do is give him a taste of home while he is here. Don’t you think that will be beneficial for him?”
Lysander had already moved on. He walked past the ornamental perch disguised as obelisks, and the shallow basin filled with water for birds, not only the parrot, to bathe in. Shiny trinkets hung from the elm tree, no doubt to excite the parrot. Lysander wanted to point them out, but he knew she would have an answer ready about how much it would help the parrot.
