He possessed a wonderful speaking voice, Charlotte realized. It was not a deep bass but a warm baritone, like a friendly crackling fire that invited the listener to sit and stay awhile. When Matthew started discussing dung, however, Charlotte noticed a few women and even some men paled. Charlotte’s mother sent her a meaningful look to change the direction of his speech, but Charlotte made no effort to interrupt. It was too fascinating watching how Matthew’s entire countenance lit as he discussed how he determined the primary food sources of the elusive beast. His joy infected her, buoying her with the confidence to disobey her mother’s command.
“It would appear their diet consists mostly of rabbits and voles…” Matthew continued, his rich voice brimming with enthusiasm.
“And good pheasants meant for my hunting amusement and stomach, not a blasted cat’s,” Hawley interrupted, speaking with a bored drawl that matched his insolent slouch as he regarded hisbrother with half-lidded eyes. “I am not sure why you are so eager to champion an annoying creature that any sane person would regard as vermin.”
The entire audience straightened in almost perfect unison. Charlotte caught a few whispers about the lecturer being the viscount’s seldom-seen youngest brother. Faces that had crumpled into lines of boredom suddenly became reanimated. Everyone relished tittle-tattle, especially any connected to an eligible heir apparent to a dukedom.
Hawley chortled, triggering an echoing chorus of equally mean chuckles from the crowd. A clang of guilt resounded inside Charlotte as she realized she’d literally set the stage for this mockery. She’d only wanted to use the salon as an opportunity to learn more about the two brothers and their relationship, not to bring about Matthew’s humiliation.
She opened her mouth for some witty repartee, but Matthew responded more quickly. He did not bluster like his older sibling but calmly said, “The fact that the cat is viewed as a nuisance is the very reason that I decided to study the creature.”
The salon’s attendees slid even closer to the edges of their chairs, while respect sparked inside Charlotte. Hawley was not a man to cross, and no one did so casually. Yet Matthew spoke with an unswaying matter-of-factness that had more power than an angry retort. Charlotte had overheard Hawley call his younger brother a marionette, but perhaps Matthew did not obey all his sibling’s commands… or maybe he was chaffing at whatever control the viscount, as the next familial patriarch, wielded over him.
“Ah.” Hawley placed one arm on the back of his chair and reclined even more. “I see now. You have an affinity for the outcast.”
A few titters arose from the audience at the thinly veiled insult, but Matthew appeared unruffled. “When observing the naturalworld, one should use all available insight—personal or otherwise—while taking precautions not to allow one’s sentiments to be mistaken for facts.”
“What earthly benefit—or even heavenly—can derive from following about a noxious creature and recording its habits?” Hawley had stiffened, his arms now crossed. Clearly, he had not expected this calm but persistent resistance.
“A better understanding of one of God’s creatures? A greater appreciation for nature? A satisfaction of curiosity? We are so inquisitive about the wonders of the greater world, why should we not show equal fascination for the living things on our own isles?”
The mixture of caring and passion in Matthew’s deep, warm voice washed over Charlotte, seeping into places she hadn’t realized had been parched for just such an elixir. She wanted, needed to experience more of such powerful kindness.
“You do realize you are speaking of an animal that possesses scant differences from a common tabby?” Hawley sneered. “No one would notice if the wildcat vanished from the earth.”
“Which is why I write about them, so that we do care about their survival. They have already disappeared from most of England. If we do not arrive at a way to live in better harmony with them, they will become a mere memory, like the dodo.” Matthew’s shoulders were slightly back, his chest extended. He looked like a warrior of old, ready to engage in combat for a creature most people simply dismissed.
Charlotte cocked her head as she studied Matthew. She knew she could not afford to be intrigued. Yet oh, how she suddenly craved to learn more about this man who she had been friends with so long ago but had never really known.
“The what?” Hawley chuckled, the sound cruel. “Now you are making up words. Dodo, indeed.”
“The epithet is derived from Portuguese, and it is the name for a large, flightless bird from islands in the Indian Ocean. The dodo was annihilated over sixty years ago.”
“Do you expect us to shed a tear over an absurd avian who has been gone for more than half a century? From how you describe it, the thing couldn’t even act like a proper bird. Good riddance to the misfit, I say. The weak do not deserve to survive.”
“What a frightening sphere we would inhabit if we did not look out for the defenseless. We do not need to fear and destroy what we do not fully comprehend; instead, we need to approach it with inquisitiveness and discover the wonders its unusualness may initially obscure,” Matthew said.
Hawley opened his mouth, his handsome face ruddy with barely suppressed ire. Before the belligerent oaf could utter another cutting remark, Charlotte shifted. She was in charge of hosting this salon, and she was exceedingly tired of Hawley’s endless bluster.
Summoning forth her most brilliant smile, she turned fully toward Matthew and partially lifted her hands. He blinked rapidly, appearing startled by her sudden attention. It was as if he’d forgotten all about her and the rest of the audience.
“Hear, hear!” Charlotte cried, keeping her voice as bright as the North Star. “Studying nature is not so different from poring over the pages of the latest novel. It is all a pursuit of greater meaning, is it not?”
The dumbfounded shock in Matthew’s countenance transformed into wonderous astonishment. Then his light gray eyes darkened, and all his passion came storming back. The silvery hue should have felt cold and mysterious, but it didn’t. It ignited a hot, dangerous swell inside Charlotte that seemed to rise up, taking her heart with it.
Her comment had spurred observations from the audience. Soonquestions for Matthew peppered the air. He turned from her to answer, and she felt as if she’d stepped from a heated fire into a cool spring air. How had the reserved Matthew Talbot—the quiet boy who’d faded into the background of her childhood—become such a force?
Chapter Seven
For the first time in his life, Matthew found himself surrounded by a gaggle of giggling debutantes. Their excited conversation buzzed about him with such fervor he could barely follow it. He had no idea why they were standing in such a tight circle around him, especially since the salon was held in a spacious room, and many of the guests had already departed. Thank goodness, Lady Charlotte was at his side serving as an anchor. Without her, he’d feel hopelessly adrift in satin and perfumes.
“I’ve never heard a man, especially the son of a duke, speak so compassionately about a creature other than his horse or his dog. Your lecture was so utterly refreshing.” A blonde young lady glanced over the lip of her fan, and Matthew was worried that she’d accidentally poked herself in the eye. She was blinking in the most peculiar manner.
“It was a revelation to me,” another chimed in as she pushed ahead of the first speaker. “I’m Lady Fiona Sutherland. Until now, I’ve always found the wildcat on our clan crest to be dreadfully dull. I thought we should have had a more suitable animal like a leopard or a lion. But after your talk, I’m utterly thrilled it is a wildcat.”
“I… I am a Keith.” A shyer miss from the outer edge of the throng spoke in a hesitant voice and then quickly clarified, “Not the Keiths who were Jacobites. Our clan symbol is a roe deer, butour family has a deep connection with wildcats. According to an old family story, one of the beasts led an ancient Chatti ancestor to a cave when he was being pursued by an enemy.”
Matthew smiled at the clearly nervous girl. “I have heard similar stories about how the Chatti tribe were impressed by the ferocity of the felines when they arrived in Scotland.”
