Bewitching the Baron Read Online Free Page B

crushed between them as he sought to shield her from the satanic bird. The raven circled them once, then flapped his way to the top of an apple tree, landing with enough force to shake loose blossoms.
    “Let go of me!” Valerian protested, startled. Her face was pressed into his chest. She struggled to free herself, to no avail. She had not realized he was such a big man.
    “He is watching us,” the baron murmured into her hair. His arms all but squeezed the breath out of her, and he began to walk backwards, dragging her with him away from the apple tree where Oscar perched, grumpily observing them.
    “Ees muh et, oo ee-ee-ut!” she said into his brocade vest, tasting metal as a silver button found its way into her mouth.
    “What?”
    He loosened his hold on her head enough for her to gain some breathing room, and she spit out the button and repeated what she had said. “He is my pet, you idiot!”
    She saw now that his eyes were dark hazel, lined with black lashes, his brows slanting dangerously under a loose shock of deep auburn hair as he made sense of what she said. “You lay claim to that evil creature?”
    “He is not evil. Mischievous and greedy maybe, but not evil.”
    His arms around her loosened further, and she pushed herself free, then tried to beat some shape back into his tricorn. “Sorry about your hat. He likes shiny things.” She held it out to him, and he stared blankly at the mangled blue fabric and dangling gold trim before reaching out to take it.
    “Do not give it another thought,” he said politely, and she could see his face begin to change as he drew on the same mask of arrogance he had worn in Greyfriars.
    “Here, let me properly introduce you,” she offered, remembering Theresa’s cautions against offending him. “Oscar!” she called, and then whistled once, a short, high note.
    Oscar launched himself from his branch and swooped gracefully down to where they stood, landing smoothly upon Valerian’s shoulder and leaning his head against her hair, camouflaging himself against the glossy locks that matched his own feathers.
    “Oscar, this is the new baron. You remember his great-uncle, do you not? The old baron?”
    “Eee-diot!” Oscar squawked.
    “No, ‘Baron,’ ” Valerian corrected, biting the inside of her lip to keep from smiling.
    “Eee—”
    “No! He is the baron, Oscar. Baron.” Valerian chanced a peek at the baron’s face, and was gratified to see that there was open interest there, the mocking, arrogant mask at least temporarily at bay.
    “Baron!” Oscar repeated. “Baron Ravenall!”
    The baron’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, and Valerian explained. “He learns phrases, not just words. Give him the first half of a phrase he knows, and he will add the ending himself.”
    “Remarkable! I once heard a parrot speak, but never a raven. How ever did you teach him?”
    Valerian smiled at his childlike interest. His eyes were sparkling, and she could feel the curiosity coming off him in waves, with no trace of anger. He seemed to have forgotten the mangled tricorn as well as his air of superiority. “I caught him when he was still a baby. It was then mostly a matter of repeating words and phrases until he could say them himself. Something like teaching a child to speak, I should imagine. He is quite intelligent, although his manners leave something to be desired.”
    The baron raised his hand, as if to touch the bird, and Valerian noticed for the first time that he was bleeding. She grabbed his large hand in both of hers, turning it to examine the small gash. “Did Oscar do this to you?”
    “What? Oh, it is nothing.” He was still staring, mesmerized, at the bird on her shoulder.
    “I will clean it for you, and bandage it.” She turned her head towards her pet. “And as for you, Oscar,” she scolded in a deeply disapproving tone, “You have been a very naughty bird. You ought to be ashamed of yourself.”
    Oscar buried his head in her hair, and began