Page 55 of Daring in a Blue Dress
He smiled back. “I like yours, too. I particularly like the one you slipped into my pocket yesterday, with the drawing of—”
He evidently remembered there was someone else in the room, and stopped.
Fenice, busy with her phone, paid us no attention.
“Yeah, that’s not for public discussion,” I said, my cheeks warming a little at the memory of the drawing I’d done of a depiction of him and me engaged in one of the more athletic positions from the Kama Sutra. “So! You were chastising me. Are you done with that, or should I explain more why I told Fenice what was going on?”
“I’m done,” he said with a mock sigh, but his lips were warm when I leaned in to kiss him. “But please do not tell anyone else.”
“I won’t. And I’ll tell Fenice not to tell anyone else, too, since I assume she is the one who told Lisa about our plans. What are you going to do this afternoon?”
“I have to run into town to pick up the things we need,” he said with a sidelong look at Fenice, who had finished with her phone, and was in the act of packing up several icy bottles of water for the refreshment of the afternoon students. “A friend of the chemist whoordered the... erm... objects, and who was with a criminal investigation branch for several years, is going to meet me here later to show me how best to apply the substance.”
“Awesome! I’ll see you later, then. Here, Fenice, I’ll take some of those down to the garden with me once I grab a quick sandwich.”
“Thanks, Mercy. The caterer didn’t bring nearly enough water for a day this hot.” Fenice staggered out with a box filled with water bottles. I followed a short while later, hastily eating a chicken sandwich as I made my way down to where the students of the day were reclined in whatever shady spots they could find, enjoying their tongue sandwiches.
The next two hours passed with speed while I ran three more students through their archery paces. Just as I was putting everything away, a huge hand reached out to tap me on the shoulder.
“Your name is Mercy, isn’t it?”
I turned to find the big red-faced man named Barry Butcher smiling at me. “Hello. Yes, I’m Mercy. You’re Mr. Butcher, aren’t you?”
“That’s right. Barry to my friends. I’ve seen you with Alden Ainslie, haven’t I?”
“Well... yes, I know Alden.”
His smile grew. “Our Mr. Ainslie knows what he’s about all right. He’s quite the man, although I will admit to being somewhat frustrated with him right now.”
“Oh? In what way?” I was a bit wary, not quite comfortable talking about Alden to a man I didn’t know well.
“It’s his stubbornness in holding out for a better offer.” His smile changed to a frown. “The Hairy TitConservancy has made him a generous offer for the house and lands—a quite generous offer—but he simply refuses to listen to it. I don’t suppose you are a twitcher?”
“Twitcher being bird-watcher?” I made a noncommittal gesture. “I like birds, but I don’t go out of the way to study them, although I did think of becoming a zoologist once. But I was more interested in mammals, particularly African mammals. I want to save all those lions and elephants and rhinos that are being hunted into extinction.”
“Now, that’s just exactly what we at the conservancy are doing,” he said, his frown melting away. “We want to preserve and protect our friend the Hairy Tit, and we have a prime opportunity to do that, but Alden is being stubborn, very stubborn.” He shook his head. “Perhaps you could talk to him for me? Point out just how many birds he’ll be saving if he allows us to take over conservatorship of the precious breeding grounds?”
“I’m sure you’re eloquent enough for both of us,” I said, smiling a wholly false smile, but determined not to get into whatever business Barry was trying to conduct.
His smile slipped a notch, but he nodded, and murmured something about being grateful for anything I could do.
I edged around him. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to go see if there’s a student waiting for me.”
“Ah, there I can help you.” He gestured toward the archery butts. “Or rather, you can help me. I was hoping you could find time to teach me some practical uses of a bow and arrow.”
“Practical?” I rubbed my nose. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Rabbits,” he said, nodding toward the line of woods that stretched beyond the far pasture. “I’ve got a littlegarden, you see, and it’s overrun with rabbits. I’d take a shotgun to them, but the missus, she doesn’t like that. Plus, it’s the devil’s job to clean buckshot out of a rabbit carcass.”
I kept my lips from curling in disgust. I might be an occasional meat eater, but I’d never eaten a bunny, and didn’t intend to change that fact. However, it didn’t mean I could hold others to my standards. “I’m afraid I’ve never done any bow hunting, Mr. Butch—Barry.”
“But a target is a target, isn’t it?” he said, giving me a little prod in the ribs that sent me staggering a couple of feet. “If I paid, oh, say, double the fee, do you think you could take me out to the field and teach me to shoot at a few things?”
“I don’t want any part of shooting animals,” I said firmly.
His eyes, an uncanny pale grayish brown, narrowed. “You one of those vegans?”
“No, but I am an animal lover, and I don’t like hunting in any guise. I’m a bit surprised that you are into it, frankly, since you are with the bird conservancy group.”
