Love Match Read Online Free

ceremony. He didn’t tell me he was to wed a Nonpareil.”
    Elizabeth suspected the duke’s desire for a small wedding had been inspired by a well-founded dread of what Maman might do with a larger one. “That would be because he hasn’t married one. Do you make it a habit of trying to provoke your oldest friends?”
    Nigel winked at her. “A leveler, I vow! Was it you that drew Justin’s cork?”
    Elizabeth winced. “It was an accident.”
    “We all have our little lapses,” Nigel assured her. “They don’t signify. A pattern-card of propriety, ain’t you? Paragon of all the virtues? Well brought-up young woman, quiet demeanor, lack of artifice? A Nonpareil, in other words.”
    Elizabeth doubted Nonpareils went about casting up their accounts all along the Bath Road. “How dull you make me sound.”
    “Bloodied Saint’s nose, didn’t you?” Nigel said comfortably. “It’s early days yet. Briggs, my man, bring in that chest.” A servant staggered through the doorway carrying a heavy wooden box.
    An irritated mutter came from beneath the birdcage cover. Elizabeth’s attention was caught. “Oh! Is it a parrot?”
    “Shush! Never use that phrase in her hearing, lest you see her sulk for days. Yanks out her feathers, and flings them all about. Dreadful mess. You should also refrain from mentioning that she is very old.” Nigel pulled back the cage’s cover. “Say hello to Birdie. That is, I call her Birdie. Her real name is something unpronounceable. Birdie don’t admit it, but she’s a macaw. She’s been on the Grand Tour, rubbed elbows with royalty, and had her portrait done. The dratted painting hangs in my aunt’s house. Would that Birdie hung there also, but my aunt can’t abide her. Nor can she get rid of the creature, because it belonged to one of her husbands, and is mentioned specifically in his will. Therefore Birdie lives with me. Spends the majority of her time dozing on her perch and biting anyone who comes within range. You wonder why I don’t arrange a fatal accident? I admit I’ve considered it, but Aunt Syb would fly into the boughs. I’m obliged to keep on Aunt Syb’s good side. A matter of financial practicality, you see.”
    Elizabeth saw that the duke’s oldest friend was an incurable humbugger. She stared at the big scarlet macaw. Yellow feathers on its upper wings blended into blue. Its tail was a deep blue mixed with red, its cheeks a pinkish white. The bird clicked its great curved beak at her and stretched out one long wing. “How pretty she is.”
    “That’s the ticket!” approved Nigel. “Empty the butter dish over her head and maybe she won’t bite you just yet. It won’t do you any good to try and ignore me, Saint. I hate to do anything to disoblige you, old fellow, but Aunt Syb requires my presence and I dare not leave that damned feather duster with my servants for fear they’ll toss her into the soup pot.”
    Lord Charnwood turned away from his valet, who was trying to discreetly impart disjointed tidings that seemed to concern baggage arrived unexpectedly from France. “Lady Ysabella is ill?”
    “Doubtful,” said Nigel. “The last time she threatened to turn up her toes it was result of the sawbones saying she was to eat meat and plain boiled rice, and forbidding her all wine. I expect she’ll threaten to cut me out of her will as usual, and feed me on boiled beef and cabbage until I am ready to turn up my toes, at which point her health will improve immeasurably. Do say you’ll board Birdie. You know she’s monstrous fond of you.”
    The duke eyed the birdcage. “I know nothing of the sort. The last time you left her here she abused every member of the staff from Thornaby to the laundry maid. Have you ever been shaved by a valet with a bandaged hand? I’m lucky he didn’t slit my throat.”
    “Too late,” Nigel murmured. “Birdie already has taken a liking to your bride.”
    Justin glanced over his shoulder. Elizabeth had knelt by the