Page 91 of His Duchess of Scandal
“And I would like to do it again, but you do not need me to empower you, Hermia. I think you do that for yourself plenty. I am merely the addition you did not ask for.”
Hermia was ready to argue the point, even if he was right about their beginning, when Phoebe announced that they had arrived at their destination. She was still several paces ahead, out of earshot—mercifully. When she spun to face them, her eyes were wide and excited.
“There is a parrot!” she shouted. “Hermia, come and see! There is a parrot, just like in the story you read to me last week!”
Charles gave Hermia a curious look, and she chuckled. “I told Phoebe a story about a magical parrot who could not only echo a person’s words, but also their mannerisms and gait. I may have been a little too fantastical, and I fear she might be disappointed.”
But Phoebe only disproved her point when she let out a high-pitched laugh, clapping her hands with joy as she approached the parrot’s stand and squawked at it.
“Phoebe,” Charles warned gently. “Do not scare the bird.”
“How about you tell it something?” Hermia suggested, when Phoebe looked excited yet uncertain as to what to do, as if shewas waiting for the parrot to do its own thing, like in the story she had told her.
The girl frowned at the bird. Its plumes were beautiful, all royal blue and cobalt, bold and captivating. It truly was quite remarkable, especially when the look in its blue eyes was so wise.
“All right,” she said aloud.
“All right,” the parrot echoed.
Phoebe looked shocked at first, shocked and thencross. “No, I am not done yet! I have not decided what I want you to say.”
“I have not yet decided what I want you to say,” the parrot mimicked.
Hermia stifled a laugh behind her hand.
Charles merely watched his daughter with the most adoring look on his face.
“Stop that!” she scolded the parrot.
“Stop that.”
“Papa!” Phoebe shouted, but she was already giggling.
Of course, the parrot mimicked that too, and the three of them burst into laughter.
Hermia’s arm tightened on Charles’s, her eyes fixed on Phoebe, who was struggling to maintain an angry expression. Her arms were folded over her chest, her lips pursed, but a giggle would escape now and then.
“I am a pretty lady,” she said.
The parrot only cocked its head at her, and that made Charles laugh even harder.
“I am a handsome man,” he tried.
“I am a handsome man,” the parrot announced.
That sent Phoebe into a fit of roaring laughter.
“Pretty lady, handsome man, pretty lady, handsome man…”
The sound of their mingling laughter warmed Hermia’s heart. It did even more so when Charles slowly moved to stand beside Phoebe. He offered her his arm, and she looked up at him in pure delight, tucking herself into his side.
“You are a clever parrot,” he commended.
“Like Clever Hermia!” Phoebe squealed.
The bird let out another squawk. “Clever Hermia, clever parrot.”
Charles stood tall alongside his daughter, and Hermia watched the two of them almost double over in laughter as the parrot kept snatching up snippets and warping them.
