The clouds moved quickly overhead, but they weren’t ominous looking yet. She watched her brown lace-up walking boots move along the path, one foot in front of the other.
Winthrop couldn’t possibly take Abigail for entire summers in Boston, could he? How could this be happening? How could she stop it?
A brown hawk circled overhead when she reached a grassy clearing. Then it tucked its wings, took a sudden dive, and flew just a few feet off the ground, fast and sure. Suddenly the hawk slowed, alighted on a man’s outstretched, gloved left hand, and just as quickly soared overhead again, circling. The man wore a long, tan greatcoat and black boots. Was it Henry? It looked like him.
A servant stood by him, as did a cameraman filming. No sooner did he hold his arm out to the side than the bird dove and landed again.
Chloe had only ever seen falconry like this in the Andrew Davies TV adaptation of
It began to rain, of course, sporadical y at first, then steadier. Chloe opened her parasol, but the rain quickly soaked through. Water dripped from the edges of her bonnet, and raindrops rol ed down her cheeks. Or were they tears? She could hardly tel .
The man in the clearing had turned with the bird on his arm. It was Henry. The falcon opened its wings to fly, and the wingspan had to have been three or four feet. The tips of the bird’s wings brushed against his face, but Henry was unfazed. He handled the bird with complete mastery. The bird tucked its wings in, and that was when Henry saw her. He signaled to his servant, who gathered the bird’s perch.
Chloe didn’t know what to do. Was she on Dartworth property? Henry handed the bird off to the servant, who seemed dwarfed by it. While the servant headed in the opposite direction, Henry strode quickly toward her, his cameraman struggling to keep up. Final y the cameraman turned back. Chloe looked up at Henry. He seemed tal er, somehow.
“Miss Parker. Whatever are you doing out here?” He took off his falconry glove and his greatcoat, bowed, and smiled. “Do you real y need to go to al this trouble just to avoid your needlework?”
Chloe choked up with laughter and tears as he wrapped his greatcoat around her. The coat was heavy and warm and had a piney aroma.
“I hope I’m not on Dartworth property,” Chloe said into the camera.
“Are you lost?”
“Kind of.”
“You’re not on Dartworth property. I’m on Bridesbridge land.” He took her by the arm. “We’re not far. I’l take you back.” He looked at her careful y, even as the rain came at them sideways. “No harm done. No need to worry. Are you—crying, Miss Parker?”
The cameraman walked backward in front of them, filming.
“No.” She laughed. “They’re raindrops. It rains so much here in England.” She wiped the tears with her wet gloves.
He lowered his voice as he handed her a handkerchief. “I certainly must apologize for my harsh words the other night at dinner. I was a little stressed by—wel —the dining room was not where we planned to birth Mrs. Crescent’s baby.”
“No apologies necessary.” Chloe blotted another tear from her cheek with the handkerchief.
“This is the wettest summer in three years,” Henry said. “And the wettest summer before that was eight years ago, but, most interestingly, the summer with record rainfal previous to that was in the Tudor era. But enough about the English weather.”
“Was that a falcon you were working with back there?” Chloe asked.
“That was King, my Harris hawk. Harris hawks are much more easygoing and sociable than peregrine falcons.”
She always learned something from him. “I should’ve known it was a Harris hawk.”
Henry laughed, but he looked away from her and at the cameraman. “My good man, would you quit your filming and fetch the lady an umbrel a from Bridesbridge?! Much obliged!”
The cameraman, to Chloe’s amazement, complied, and took off toward Bridesbridge as fast as he could. So many times the women had tried to get the crew to quit filming, but it never worked.
“Now, what is the matter?”
Chloe held back the tears. “I’d like to learn falconry. You’re incredibly talented at it. Could you teach me? Would it be apropos?”
“As you know, Miss Parker, it isn’t exactly a female pursuit. Perhaps if Mrs. Crescent joined us, but no, it’s actual y more appropriate if my brother gave you a lesson.”
From a distance, the cameraman ran toward them with two umbrel as under his arm.
Chloe fel silent.
“But Sebastian—doesn’t know much about falconry.” Henry looked at her with intent. “Something has upset you. What is it? I’d like to help.”
As they passed the Grecian temple on top of the hil , the rain tapered off.
“Do I have
Flecks of gold flickered in his brown eyes. “Personal y, I think you have the best chance of al , depending on what you hope to gain.”
