The duchess’s keen eyes flicked from Grey to land on Clio as she disembarked the train. An odd desire to step in front of Clio, shielding her from view, had him shifting to his left. Lady Langley misinterpreted his movement, winking before leaning to her right to squint at Clio.
‘Is that a crow on the girl’s shoulder?’ The duchess’s shrill voice had all heads swivelling to follow where she pointed her fan.
Clio must have felt the weight of such sudden regard. She lifted her gaze from where she had been watching a young girl and her mother exiting the train to confront the stares of more than a dozen remaining passengers milling on the platform. Instead of blushing or looking for somewhere to hide, she threw back her shoulders, taking time to look each passenger in the eye until, one at a time, they all turned away.
The last person she stared down was Thomas. He was at least a dozen yards away from her, yet he felt the same arc of electricity that buzzed through him every time she was near zing down his spine and tighten his bollocks. Unlike the other people on the platform, he didn’t look away. He held her gaze.
‘Miller, go and rescue that poor young thing before the wild crow claws out her eyes.’
Before the footman escorting Lady Langley could follow her orders, Grey grabbed his arm, halting him. ‘I wouldn’t.’ He turned to the duchess. ‘That isn’t a crow, Your Grace. It is Sir Robin.’
‘Stuff of nonsense! That thing is nothing like a robin.’
Thomas’ lips twitched. ‘Yes, of course, you are correct. It is a raven named Sir Robin.’
‘That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.’
Thomas had thought the same when he first met Clio, but he found a need to defend both the bird and the woman as Clio drew closer. ‘He is our dear cousin’s pet.’ He delivered the last few words with a charming smile for Clio, whose eyes widened for a fraction before quickly narrowing in suspicion.
Ah. You have no idea how charming I can be when motivated. But you are going to find out.
‘Bastard!’
The duchess turned her head sharply, looking for whoever had been so rude as to shout a profanity in public, but no one was near enough to be the culprit.
Clio stopped at the edge of their group and delivered a rather exemplary curtsey as Sir Robin fluffed his feathers.
Grey lifted a brow and didn’t miss the scowl she directed at him before returning her focus to Lady Langley and tipping her lips in a demure smile.
You aren’t fooling me, Clio. There is nothing reserved about you.
Cynthia put her hand on Clio’s arm. Thomas didn’t miss the squeeze of reassurance his sister gave. ‘Allow me to introduce Lady Clio Blair of Stirling and her darling pet raven.’
Sir Robin Goodfellow clacked his beak and whistled. The glint in his black eye had Thomas wondering if he didn’t dislike being referred to as a pet.
Nonsense! He can’t understand us, let alone have any opinions about what we are saying.
Sir Robin tilted his head at Thomas. ‘Blunder head!’
Well, at least he didn’t say, ‘Bastard.’ Surely I’m rising in his esteem.
Or he was wise enough not to get caught swearing by the duchess.
Lady Langley burst into laughter. ‘What a clever trick. Can he say anything else?’
Clio’s smile was sharper than carved glass. Before she could answer, the raven turned and readjusted his perch on Clio’s shoulder. ‘Fancy girl,’ he quipped.
Cynthia slapped her hand over her mouth at the euphemism, and Thomas clenched his jaw.
Not so wise, after all.
Lady Langley would hardly allow such a well-aimed insult at her fidelity. No one called a duchess a whore. Not even a raven. If Sir Robin wasn’t careful, he would soon find himself baked into a pie.
Clio shook her head and laughed, and Thomas wondered if she might find herself in the same pie as her raven.
‘Well, I never!’ Lady Langley pressed a hand against her throat.
‘He thinks you are rather beautiful, Lady Langley.’
