Page 44 of The Duke of Kisses
He climbed in and sat down beside her. “Whatever you like.” He gave her a warm smile. “Truly, Fanny. Your sister and I only want you to be happy, and we’ll do whatever we can to help you. You shall always have a home with us.”
She knew that, just as she knew she was incredibly fortunate to enjoy a freedom most young women didn’t have. She thought of Sarah, whose parents were eager to see her wed at the earliest possible moment. Fanny’s parents were the same, but Fanny didn’t have to rely on them for anything, so their preferences didn’t matter even a whit. Especially not after the way they’d turned their backs on Ivy.
They drove home, and, after checking in on Ivy and Leah, Fanny decided to take a walk to the park. Her maid accompanied her, and the thick morning clouds burned mostly away as afternoon came upon them.
“I want to walk down to the water,” Fanny said. Most people enjoyed Hyde Park at the height of the fashionable hour when the paths were clogged with Society, but Fanny liked having the space to herself. Or mostly, anyway. There were people about, but they weren’t there for the purpose of being seen.
“Are you sure you want to risk it?” Barker asked with a wry smile.
Fanny grinned, almost always able to laugh at her clumsiness. “I am feeling particularly bold today.”
“Well, I am feeling particularly warm,” Barker said. “I hope there’s a bench in the shade.”
“There are several. We’ll take a respite before we turn back.”
The call of a bird drew Fanny’s attention to a tree a few feet ahead along the path. She searched the foliage for the source but couldn’t see it, nor was she certain what sort of bird made that call. She’d learned a few in the months since she’d taken to studying birds. Since she’d met David.
Would she continue to watch and learn about them now, or would they just remind her, frustratingly, of David? As they moved next to the tree, a chaffinch flew out from the branches, ascending above them.
They continued to the Serpentine, and Barker immediately found a bench set beneath the dappled shade of an oak tree. Fanny was about to sit beside her when she caught sight of a pair of birds on the water. They were elegant with a black tuft of feathers on top of their heads and bright amber coloring on the sides of their faces. The fronts of their long necks and their bellies were snowy white, while their back feathers were a mix of black and brown with hints of amber.
But it was their activity that caught Fanny’s eye. They faced each other, their heads flicking from side to side, with a fan of feathers around their faces that reminded her of a lion’s mane. Their feathered fans opened as their heads moved in what looked to be some sort of communication. She was absolutely fascinated and found herself pulled to the water’s edge.
“Careful there.”
The deep, masculine voice was familiar. She turned her head to see David standing a few feet to her left. “I’m not going to fall in again. Anyway, that was your fault.”
“So it was.” He bowed deeply, and she refused to be moved by his demeanor. Instead, she turned her attention back to the beautiful birds.
“Those are great crested grebes.” He’d moved closer. She could see him from the corner of her eye but kept her attention on the birds. It wasn’t difficult. Their dance, for that was what it looked like to her—if birds could dance—was utterly captivating.
“Have you any idea what they’re doing?” she asked, thinking he must.
“That’s their mating ritual. Do you see how they’re moving closer and closer together?”
She did. “And why do they keep pecking at their feathers?” Every so often, they’d dip their heads back and flick their beaks into their back feathers before coming back up and resuming the headshaking from side to side.
“It’s part of their dance.”
She smiled now, since he’d used the word she’d been thinking. “I think they’re better dancers than me.”
He laughed. “They don’t have to worry about intricate steps or patterns. Or feet.”
She glanced at him, still smiling. “I don’t know. That business out there looks rather complicated to me. For all we know, there’s a sequence to those head flicks and beak dips.”
“There could very well be. I haven’t ever written down the specifics.” He cocked his head to the side as he studied the birds. “I think I shall have to do that.”
Suddenly, one of the grebes ducked its head beneath the water.
Fanny started. “Oh dear, what does that mean?”
“Just watch.”
She heard the anticipation in his voice. A moment later, the bird resurfaced very close to the other one with a mouthful of greenery from the lake. Fanny brought her hand to her mouth and laughed. “Is that supposed to be a bouquet of flowers?”
“An apt description, I think.” He pointed toward the water. “There goes the other one.”
As he said that, the second bird ducked beneath the water but came back up more quickly. She—or he; why couldn’t the female have gone first?—offered a beakful of watery foliage. The birds now touched at the neck and rose up out of the water, their breasts pushed out. They remained thus for several moments, seemingly basking in the joy of their mutual offerings.
