Page 19 of Seven Swans a Swimming

Her heart leaped slightly as she spoke. Perhaps they would learn to live with each other after all. Perhaps the grouchiness and distrust of her was to be expected. Perhaps the mistress he had been pining over had finally gone.

Then a cloud seemed to cover Nathaniel’s face. “Well, I am sorry to disappoint you and ruin your streak of success.”

He turned away and started walking along the bank of the lake, away from the house.

Arabella stood for a moment, indecision rushing through her blood. Just how much effort was she willing to put into this man, when she was receiving nothing in return? It was most infuriating.

And yet…there was something about him. Something Arabella could not put into words. Something that made her want…want him.

Heat pooled in her body, a heat she did not understand—or at least, she forced herself not to examine. Because she did not wish to sound like a harlot when she talked about him to her sisters.

And it was that thought, that she would have to explain to her sisters that Lord Nathaniel Cartier had met her and not wished to marry her, that spurred Arabella on.

“Look, the swans,” Arabella said, falling into step beside him. “I wonder whether they are all related.”

“They are.”

Nathaniel had spoken so swiftly, with such energy, that Arabella blinked up at him, certain she had misheard him.

“But…but you probably do not wish to hear about that,” he mumbled, looking down.

“No—I do,” said Arabella quickly. Any topic, whatever topic, whatever it took to get him to talk to her. “You know their breeding, then?”

“You see those two—that larger one, and that one with the darker bill?” said Nathaniel, halting in his steps and pointing out two of the specific birds.

Arabella looked where he was pointing. “Yes.”

“Those are the parents,” Nathaniel said warmly. “We only had one swan a few years ago—cygnus olor—and after reading more about the species, the genus, their mode of breeding, I decided we needed a female. I wrote to the king—”

“To the king!”

“Yes, all swans are owned by the monarch,” said Nathaniel with a grin. “One of those old medieval laws that was created and no one has ever bothered to unmake.”

Arabella looked up at him and saw a wry smile on his face.

“I am under no illusion of the agreement our parents made, Miss Fitzroy, but an agreement can be unmade.”

She could not help but smile, too. “Well, you would know all about that.”

“Securing a breeding pair is difficult, you see, as they mate for life,” said Nathaniel enthusiastically, looking away from her and back to the swans. “I could not be sure whether they would bond, you see. One of them had been alone for so long, and the other—”

“Just turned up one day,” said Arabella softly.

Well, she could not help it. The story was so perfect, right there—and he was the one who had begun it, after all.

Nathaniel swallowed. She watched his Adam’s apple move and shivered slightly at the intensity of the emotion on his face. What was it? Fear? Lust? They seemed so similar in that moment.

“Precisely,” he said quietly. “Yet after a few years, we had hatchlings. Three last year, two this summer—at least, two that survived.”

Arabella’s face fell. “Oh, so there were swanlings which did not survive?”

“Cygnets,” corrected Nathaniel. “Not many people know that. Yes, one was got by a fox, and one I think had a disease—I found its body, and after dissecting it—”

“Dissecting it!” Arabella could not help herself—she gasped as she said the word, a little horrified.

Dissected.What sort of gentleman was Lord Nathaniel Cartier, that he could do such a thing?

He looked at her, his gaze hard. “You are offended.”

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