Page 19 of A Scandal In July
Rhys squinted downward. “There’s a red flag attached to one of its tail feathers.”
“Who knew peacocks could run so fast?” Lenore marveled.
Rhys cupped his hands around his mouth. “Run, Geoffrey! Run!” he bellowed.
Morgan glanced up at the shout, spied them in the tower, and sent his brother a very ungentlemanly hand signal.
“That’s not one they officially recommend in the army,” Rhys chuckled.
Lenore laughed.
Turning back to the pursuit, Morgan increased his speed. He made a valiant dive for the flag but missed as the clever bird changed direction at the very last second, zig-zagging away from him with a cry that definitely sounded gloating.
Morgan rolled down a grassy embankment and only just managed to stop himself from falling in the moat.
Rhys let out a whoop of delight.
Carys, meanwhile, stepped out from behind the hedge and gave a shrill whistle. Geoffrey slowed his pace and turned toward her, obviously recognizing the sound, and Carys crouched down and moved her hand in a shallow arc.
“Clever bugger,” Rhys growled. “She’s bribing him with seeds. Geoffrey never misses the chance for a second lunch.”
Sure enough, the peacock strutted eagerly towards Carys, then started pecking at the grass at her feet. With a grin, Carys reached down and gently tugged the flag from where it was nestled among his tail feathers.
“If I’d done that, he’d have pecked my eyes out,” Rhys grumbled, his voice tinged with reluctant brotherly admiration.
Carys’s grin was visible even from up in the tower as she waved the flag over her head in a victory dance. Tristan emerged from behind her and gave her a congratulatory hug from behind.
“It’s a miracle anyone other than Carys managed to get close enough to Geoffrey to set the flag in the first place. I wonder if they did it while he was asleep? Or maybe they gave him fermented apples to eat. It gets them drunk, you know.” Rhys shrugged at the mystery. “Either way, that’s two flags for Carys and Tristan now. We need to improve our game.”
Lenore turned away and made a quick circle of the tower. “Where’s the clock?”
Rhys lifted his arms toward the wooden planks and beams above them and took hold of an iron ring in the ceiling that Lenore hadn’t noticed before.
“Up here.”
He pulled, and another, smaller, hinged door swung down to reveal the inner workings of a clock, its pendulum swinging with heart-beat precision back and forth.
“Yes!” Lenore cried.
There, tied to one of the cylindrical lead weights was a cheerful yellow flag. Rhys went up on his tiptoes and untied it, then tucked it safely in the inside pocket of his jacket.
“Two for us, as well. We’re still in the running.”
“Wine cellar next,” Lenore said, the excitement of the game adding a catch to her breath almost as much as the sight of Rhys’s handsome face and carelessly windblown hair. “Let’s hope Caro wasn’t lying about it not being at Newstead.”
Chapter Ten
Lenore was glad to climb down from the tower, and she and Rhys sneaked along the corridors, keeping an ear out for the other teams. When they reached the ground floor again, he led her through Trellech’s enormous medieval great hall, complete with minstrel’s gallery, and an astonishing assortment of gruesome-looking weaponry displayed on the walls.
“The four of us used to play with those all the time,” he said, noting the direction of her fascinated gaze. “We had our own tournaments. We’d dress up in the suits of armor and batter each other with swords and pikes and hatchets until one of us yielded, or until Nanny Maude called us to go wash our hands for tea. Whichever came first.”
“Didn’t Nanny Maude scold you for fighting?”
“Not at all. She thinks exercising the body is as important as exercising the mind. In fact, she even taught me a few moves. She’s a wily old bird. Much like your aunts Constance and Prudence.”
Rhys shook his head in wry recollection and Lenore smiled. It was clear he held the old retainer in high regard.
His smile faded a little. “I sometimes wonder if those innocent childish battles gave me an edge when it came to fighting in earnest.”