Page 46 of Murder at Somerset House (A Wrexford & Sloane Mystery #9)
“Ha! Be careful what you wish for,” mumbled Raven, who had already turned his attention back to his equations.
“I will speak to Mr. Lynsley this morning about beginning the new arrangement,” said Charlotte. “I will also ask if he would be available for some private lessons. That way he can understand where you are in your studies, and perhaps provide some extra tutoring.”
Eddy flashed a grateful smile. “Thank you, m’lady. I look forward to that!”
Hawk and Peregrine looked at each other and made gagging sounds, which earned them a stern rebuke from McClellan as she brought in a basket of freshly baked rolls.
Eddy hurried through the rest of her meal and rose to excuse herself. “I wish to do a last check that all is well in the dovecote before we set out for the park.”
She was halfway up the stairs to the rooftop when the sound of steps behind her caused her to turn.
“I—I was just wondering …” said Raven. “Would you mind if I come along with Hawk and Peregrine to help with transporting the boxes?”
“I thought you didn’t like my smelly birds.”
“They’re not quite as smelly anymore,” he replied. “I would like to see them in flight.” A pause. “Will they really find their way home from the park?”
“Absolutely,” answered Eddy.
“ How? ”
She smiled. “We don’t really know. They seem to have great visual memory and learn to recognize their surroundings quickly.
However, that doesn’t explain their ability to find their way home from distant locations.
There is clearly some unknown guiding force in the cosmos—perhaps some strange compass-like power that we humans can’t sense. But I haven’t a clue as to what it is.”
A pause. “You probably think that sounds like silly hocus-pocus.”
“On the contrary, I think it sounds incredibly intriguing,” replied Raven. He, too, hesitated for a moment. “Did you really mean what you said at breakfast about finding mathematics interesting?”
“I’ve always thought of mathematics as a rather boring set of rules—you know, addition, subtraction, division, multiplication—designed simply to count things. But I heard you telling Hawk and Peregrine that mathematics is key to navigation, and I found that fascinating.”
“Mathematics is actually very creative and has a wide range of really interesting applications,” replied Raven. “If you like, I can show you a book on navigation and explain the basics.”
“I—I would like that very much.”
“Excellent.” Raven shuffled his feet, appearing a little uncertain of what to say next. “Well, umm … I had better get to the schoolroom and arrange my books and papers,” he quickly added. “Mr. Lynsley expects for us to be prepared to begin our lessons the moment he walks in the door.”
He hurried down several stairs before turning to look back over his shoulder. “I will, umm, see you later.”
“Careful, careful—not so fast!” called Eddy to the Weasels, who had quickened their pace, eager to reach the swath of meadowland where the release of the pigeons was to take place. “Jostling the boxes may make them disoriented!”
Wrexford and von Münch followed at a more leisurely pace, though the earl remained alert to the surroundings.
“You need not have felt compelled to rendezvous with me this early,” said Wrexford. “I don’t expect trouble, but I prefer to be cautious when it comes to my family.”
“While I’m happy to assist at any time if things threaten to turn ugly, I came here because I’m curious to observe Eddy with her pigeons. I’ve seen messenger pigeons in action while on a mission in eastern Prussia several years ago but have never had the opportunity to watch a training session.”
“I hadn’t realized that the use of messenger pigeons dates back to ancient times,” mused the earl.
“Eddy has informed me there is evidence that they were used by the Pharaohs of Egypt several centuries before the birth of Christ, and that during the 1300s, Genghis Khan established a postal system using messenger pigeons across his conquered territories in Asia.”
He shaded his eyes and took a moment to study the copse of trees that butted up to the meadow where they planned to release the pigeons.
“Have you any idea how she trains them?” asked von Münch.
“I confess, I have not inquired as deeply into the art of pigeoning as I should have,” admitted Wrexford.
“You have had a few other things on your mind.”
“Be that as it may …” He saw that the Weasels were carefully undoing the top fastenings of the three wooden boxes, which had wire screens at both ends to let in air and light, in order to allow Eddy access to the four birds in each one. “Let us go ask.”
In response to the earl’s question, Eddy looked up from checking that her pigeons were settling down after the journey.
“It’s actually quite simple, Wrex. One begins by taking the birds a very short distance away on the rooftop from the dovecote when it’s time for their feeding.
They are hungry—and they know that they get fed in their nests.
So they quickly return. Then one gradually increases the distance—I went first to the back terrace just below the roof, and then out to various points of the garden and mews. ”
She reached into one of the boxes and gently lifted out a single pigeon. “This is the first real test of finding their way home. But I don’t doubt that all twelve of my birds will succeed.” After whispering something to the pigeon, she opened her hands and gave a soft toss upward.
It rose with a whispery whirring of its flapping wings, and after circling high above them, it turned and, without hesitation, headed back toward Berkeley Square.
Wrexford watched as the process repeated itself until all dozen birds had flown off.
“Come, let’s hurry and see if they all make it back,” exclaimed Hawk, his excitement tinged with a touch of doubt.
Eddy merely smiled while the Weasels quickly gathered the three empty boxes.
“I have complete faith that I will find all your fledglings back in their nests when I return,” said the earl.
“I, too,” chimed von Münch, still looking up to watch the last tiny speck disappear from sight. “Remarkable! The wonders of Nature never cease to amaze and delight me.”
“You seem to like birds, Herr von Münch,” observed Eddy as she eyed him thoughtfully.
“In my youth, I trained a hunting hawk—a very handsome merlin—and we spent many a happy hour in the meadows and woods around my home. So yes, I have a particular fondness for feathered creatures.”
Her eyes lit up in interest. “You trained a hawk? I’ve heard that is quite a bit more complicated than training a pigeon.”
He offered her his arm. “Shall we chat about it as we walk back to the Stanhope Gate? Then alas, His Lordship and I must head off to deal with less pleasant demands.”