A Shadow's Bliss by Patricia Veryan Page B

you do as you are bid, I’m not willing to discuss that—nobleman, so we will talk of something else, if you please.”
    Briefly, the quirkish grin touched his mouth. He sketched a bow, and said meekly, “As you wish, Miss Jennifer. Would you like to comment upon my—building materials?”
    Slight as it had been, the bow was rendered with unconscious grace, and reinforced her belief that he was of gentle birth. She said, “Aha! You took my advice, I see. Then that is for your little bird? How is he? Have you given him a name?”
    â€œYes, ma’am. Duster will go along better when I’ve made him a proper cage. And so shall I.”
    Her eyebrows lifted in a silent question, and he explained, “I fashioned him a makeshift swing, which I think he likes, for he becomes agitated if I take it out. But he has a withered claw, you know, and now and then—usually in the middle of the night—he seems to lose his grip on the swing and goes crashing down, and then rushes about creating a great deal of noise and confusion.”
    Jennifer laughed. “Whereby your sleep is interrupted, is it?”
    â€œSo much so that the next swing will be far more sturdy, and lower!”
    â€œI cannot credit that so small a creature could cause such a fuss, Jack. Do you not—” Interrupting herself, she asked, “Were you christened Jack? Or is it just a nickname?”
    He said slowly, “My name is Jonathan, ma’am. And I seem to recall someone … calling me ‘Johnny.’”
    â€œSomeone? A man? A lady?”
    â€œA lady.”
    â€˜A woman—and likely he is wed,’ she thought, and wondered why that possibility had not occurred to her before.
    Jonathan stared blankly at his scattered driftwood, and Jennifer frowned at Chanteuse.
    After a brief silence, she asked rather brusquely, “Why did you tell Lord Green that you had climbed up the cliff?”
    â€œBecause I had, ma’am.”
    She shook her head. “Come now, Ja—Jonathan. My brother Royce has climbed in Italy and is considered most skilled, yet he told me there is no way up the cliff face north of Devil’s Ladder, without a man uses climbing equipment.”
    His lips tightened, but he said nothing.
    â€œWon’t you tell me what really happened?” she persisted, thinking that the children would be punished if they were responsible.
    â€œI told you what happened, Miss Jennifer.”
    Taken aback by the touch of hauteur in his voice, she demanded, “Look at me.”
    He met her eyes with a cool and steady gaze. It went against common sense for her to believe this ever more incomprehensible man, but she found she could no longer doubt him. Awed, she murmured, “You must be a superb climber. Even so, the risk was dreadful. Why ever would you do so mad a thing?”
    His eyes fell.
    â€œIt is as I thought!” she exclaimed. “Those boys were tormenting you again.”
    â€œNo. But—please, do not ask, Miss Jennifer. See, I am better. Allow me to throw you up. You will be missed by now.”
    She really was being dismissed! The effrontery of the man! Irked, she said, “Oh, very well,” and as she settled herself into the saddle, added, “if you must be so surly, I will—”
    His hand closed on her boot. A pair of ardent grey eyes gazed up at her, and he declared with passionate intensity, “Never that! ’Fore heaven, I would die sooner than—” He broke off with a gasp, then drew back, and stammered, “’Tis only that— It is something I try not to— I do not like to—to speak of.”
    But he had betrayed himself. More moved than she would have thought possible, she felt her face flame, which was ridiculous. Confused by her reaction, and not a little embarrassed, she turned away and gazed out to sea. “Oh, look!” she exclaimed, admiringly. “What a great ship! Such a