“Ah, yes, fairy wings,” Branville said with a laugh, picking up one of the wings and examining it. “I suppose a performance ofA Midsummer Night’s Dreammust include fairy wings.”
“And a lion,” Delilah blurted. “A fake one, of course.” Thomas watched as she pinched herself on the inside of her arm and turned bright red again. “I mean, of course the lion would be fake. What else would it be?” she added, turning redder. “Er, um,que pensez-vous des perroquets, Your Grace?”
Thomas winced. She’d just asked Branville how he felt about parrots. Bringing up the parrot was probably not her best choice. Thomas situated himself with his back leaning against the nearest wall and continued to watch the awkward interaction.
“Parrots?” Branville’s brow furrowed. He obviously wanted to ensure he’d heard her correctly.
“Yes, you know, brightly colored birds. Tend to speak. Friendly with pirates,” Delilah continued.
Thomas pressed his lips together to keep from chuckling, while Branville narrowed his eyes. “Pirates?”
“Yes. My cousin Cade is a pirate,” Delilah declared.
“I am no such thing, Delilah,” Cade chimed in from atop the stage. “Besides, at the moment, I am attempting to be a woodland sprite.” He grinned at Branville. “I’m playing Puck.”
Cade turned his attention back to his scene while Delilah pressed her hand to the side of her mouth and whispered to Branville, “Heusedto be a pirate. And that inspired me to procure a parrot. He’s just over there. Miss Adeline.”
Branville turned to look in the direction Delilah pointed. Miss Adeline sat on his perch only a few paces away. Thomas was convinced the bird wore a self-satisfied look on his face.
“You do actually have aparrot.” Surprise registered in Branville’s voice when his gaze landed on the fowl in question.
“This particular version of the play includes a parrot,” Lucy hastened to add.
“I don’t seem to recall a parrot from my study of the play at Cambridge,” Branville said narrowing his eyes again.
Of course, he would mention his time at Cambridge. Bloody braggart. Branville moved toward Miss Adeline’s perch. He stopped in front of it and contemplated the bird.
“Watch out, Branville,” Thomas drawled from his spot against the wall. “The parrot bites.”
“Not always,” Delilah shot back, her eyes glaring daggers at Thomas.
Branville offered his arm, and Miss Adeline immediately hopped over to it.
“I quite like birds,” Branville said.
“Quite like birds,” Miss Adeline echoed. There was no question about it. The bird was smug.
“He looks like a fine bird to me,” Branville continued. “What did you say his name is?”
Delilah shot a guilty look toward Thomas before lifting her chin. “Ah, Miss… Adeline.”
“She’s lovely,” Branville replied. “I think we shall be fast friends, Miss Adeline and I.”
Thomas opened his mouth to correct His Grace on the matter of the bird’s sex, but Delilah stopped him with a hasty “Thank you, Your Grace.”
Still holding Miss Adeline on his forearm, Branville turned back to Lucy. “What part did you mean for me to play?”
Lucy clapped her hands. A smile lit her features. “We were hoping you would be Hermia’s father.”
Branville raised his brows. “Hermia’s father? The awful man who stands in the way of true love?”
“One and the same,” Lucy replied, smiling.
Thomas fought the urge to roll his eyes again. Who said things like,stands in the way of true love? Who really stood in the way of true love? Blond dukes with dimples who didn’t appreciate the most wonderful young lady in the room. That’s who.
“Would you like to see what you’ll be wearing?” Delilah asked. Her cheeks were less red than they’d been a few moments ago, perhaps because that bag of feathers she called Miss Adeline had yet to bite Branville. Thomas remained hopeful, however, that an assault was imminent.
“Yes, please,” Branville replied.
