Blackwood's Lady. Gail Whitiker

a pet.’

      ‘Guinevere is very gentle and exceedingly well behaved—’

      ‘Yes, I saw how well behaved she was last night,’ David drawled. ‘So well that, even with a broken wing, she flew out of her cage at the first opportunity.’

      ‘She merely slipped out when Jamie was feeding her,’ Nicola replied in the bird’s defence. ‘It should never have happened.’

      ‘And it wouldn’t have, had you had sense enough not to keep the bird in the first place!’

      ‘She would have died without my care!’

      ‘That is the law of nature, Nicola. In the wild, only the strong survive. You cannot take it into your head to rescue every wounded bird you come across. My God, we should be overrun! Or over flown,’ David muttered under his breath.

      ‘I am hardly keeping a flock, my lord,’ Nicola said, crossing her arms in defiance. ‘I merely rescued one injured falcon.’

      ‘I understand that, but has it not occurred to you that you might have been injured last night? What if that damn bird had gone for your face?’

      ‘Oh, David, there was never any danger of that,’ Nicola said, her tone evidencing a complete lack of concern. ‘Guinevere was simply frightened by all the noise. You saw how docile she became when everyone quietened down.’

      ‘And the injuries to your arm?’

      ‘Were my own fault for not ensuring that the bandage was made thick enough.’

      ‘But surely you realize—’

      ‘My lord, would you care for some of Cook’s homemade apricot jam?’ Nicola interrupted, as the door to the parlour suddenly swung open and the footman returned carrying a fresh pot of coffee. ‘She is renowned throughout the county for the recipe. I think you will find it goes very nicely on your toast.’

      Forced by the rules of etiquette to comply, David smiled, and duly accepted the pot of jam Nicola held out to him. It wasn’t the thing to be seen arguing in front of servants, and he waited until the young man had resumed his place by the door before continuing in a much softer voice, ‘Nicola, I understand that you wished to help the bird, and I certainly cannot fault you for that. But I must insist that, from now on, if you happen to find any injured birds lying in the field, you leave them where they are. You will be far too busy attending to your duties as the Marchioness of Blackwood to trouble yourself with every debilitated bird you come across.’