“It looks like a kestrel, not a peregrine,” she murmured, taking a step forward without thinking and breaking a stick as she did so.
As she did, Blake glanced up. His blue eyes seemed ablaze with excitement and life. His smile was wild, and as their eyes met, Jane felt an almost physical rush, as though butterflies were fluttering in her stomach.
“Miss Pembleton.” The Duke inclined his head towards her, his smile softening, though Jane could still see the same boyish excitement from a moment ago. “I had not thought you the type to stand and watch a man from the shadows.”
“It is hardly the shadows. The sun is out, and I am standing in full view,” Jane pointed out.
“True, though you must admit you are lurking somewhat.” Blake smiled at her.
“Not lurking, merely observing.” She gestured vaguely around them, suppressing a small smile as she did so.
“A rather intense observation. I have never felt quite so scrutinized.” He winked at her.
“Do not pretend you noticed me any earlier than you have. If it were not for the stick snapping, I doubt you would have realized I was here.” Jane pointed to the broken twig beneath her foot.
Blake glanced down, still absentmindedly stroking his bird. “So you have been watching me for a long time.”
“Do not flatter yourself. I was simply curious.” Jane hoped she sounded nonchalant, and was grateful that for once her cheeks didn’t flush.
“About me? How flattering.” Blake carefully set the bird on the block and stepped away from it, whistling once more and holding a piece of meat in his gloved fist. The bird returned to him.
“About your bird.” Jane shook her head in exasperation, even as she moved closer. “Is it a kestrel?”
“Yes, she is.” Blake stroked the bird gently, his features softening as he looked at her. “I found her abandoned as a chick and hand-reared her. Everyone told me she would be too soft to hunt, but she will prove them wrong. Even if she can be rather more stubborn than I would like.”
“Kestrels can be. Or so I have heard. I have a peregrine at home, I did not think to bring her with me,” Jane said wistfully, thinking of her bird and the hours she would spend walking and hunting with her.
Blake shook his head and gently placed the bird back on the block, which earned him an indignant squawk as he moved several steps away from her.
He fished another chunk of meat from the pouch, held it in his hand, and whistled. “I could not bear to be apart from Athena for so long.”
“Athena?” Jane tilted her head towards him, curious.
Blake raised an eyebrow at her, sounding genuinely surprised as he said, “Yes, as in the Goddess of wisdom. I am surprised you did not know that.”
“Of course, I knew that. I am simply surprised you named her after Athena rather than Artemis. After all, Artemis is the hunter,” Jane pointed out, frowning.
“She never seemed like an Artemis to me. Besides, it seemed a little on the nose.” Blake shrugged.
“I thought you enjoyed things that were obvious.” Jane could not help but tease him.
To her surprise, instead of rising to the bait or flirting with her, as he would usually do, the Duke gave her a sincere answer.
“Occasionally. But names are important things, and I think Athena suited her better.” Blake fished a lure from his pocket, attached some meat to it, and threw it a little away from him.
The bird immediately took flight, diving and attacking the lure. Jane had to admit she was magnificent to watch.
Blake whistled for the bird to return to his fist, offering her another chunk of meat as she returned and said, “She was a warrior, but she represented the virtues of justice and skill. Kestrels are hunters, but they are also fiercely intelligent and cunning.”
“That is true. Most birds of prey are rather clever. Ironically, owls are not. Which is especially funny, given their association with wisdom.”
“Well, not all who seem wise truly are.” Blake winked at Jane. “As soon as someone thinks they know everything, they seem to become rather tedious company and frightfully dull.”
He fished Athena’s hood from his pocket and carefully put it on the bird’s head. She made a brief sound of protest, but as soon as the hood was on, she calmed down. Blake began to walk back towards the aviary, and Jane fell into step with him.
“Have you kept falcons for long?” she asked.
“Not as long as I would have liked,” he answered, handing Athena back to the falconer.
