Page 21 of The Milliner and the Griffin Rider

“What?” Chloe gasped. “I never heard about a griffin egg being stolen.”

“We kept it quiet,” Fletcher said. “We didn’t want anyone else getting the idea to try their own hand at it. And we managed to track it down before she hatched.”

“But griffin chicks can’t thrive in their egg unless they’re being brooded over by a griffin,” Harrison said. “Usually the whole flock cares for them, taking turns keeping watch over the egg. The weeks it took us to track down Sage’s egg affected her badly. She was born tiny and sickly.”

Chloe gasped, her free hand flying to her mouth. “I had no idea. I swear it. I didn’t know it would harm the griffin inside the egg. I thought once the chick had hatched and grown a little, it would be free to reject the egg’s owner and fly off.”

“That’s assuming it was able to do so,” Harrison said harshly. “Assuming it wasn’t chained down and harvested for its feathers and tears.”

Chloe’s mouth fell open, her stomach churning. She was going to be sick.

“People do that?” she whispered.

“Only until they’re caught,” Fletcher said grimly. “Wynkara’s creatures are what make us unique, and the king doesn’t hold with their mistreatment.”

A tear ran down Chloe’s cheek. “And yet some people try…How…how horrible. I truly didn’t know, and of course I wouldn’t ever consider taking an egg now—even if the Duke gifted me one tomorrow.”

“There’s no chance of that.” Harrison’s mouth twisted in a wry tilt, although his eyes remained bleak.

“Of course not,” Chloe said, stung in spite of everything. “Given I’m so deficient compared to all the other girls who’ve pursued him.”

“Deficient? You?” Fletcher shook his head, looking between her and Harrison. “I can’t think how.”

Harrison gave a humorless laugh. “In one major way.” He turned to his friend. “At least all those other girls could identify the Duke before they tried to pursue him.”

Turning on his heel, he strode away without a backward glance.

Ten

Chloe watched Harrison’s retreating back, her thoughts fracturing into confusion. As he reached the open doors of the mews, the Duke strolled back into view.

“Ah, you’re already done with lessons, are you, Everard?” The Duke gave a languid wave of greeting. “That’s excellent since I’ve been wanting to ask you…” His voice trailed away as he pursued Harrison, who continued to stride away from the mews at full speed.

Chloe swallowed. “Why did the Duke of Everard just call Harrison Everard?” she asked of no one in particular.

Everard was the Duke’s name—at least among his peers. Why would the Duke call Harrison by his own name?

“His Grace is right about one thing,” Fletcher said apologetically. “You are the first girl not to recognize him. He was rather offended at first to think anyone could mistake Crane for him—of all people.”

“But I…” Chloe slumped sideways against Sage, no longer able to hold her weight. “Maddie pointed the Duke out to me one day, and I was sure…” She swallowed, her mouth almost too dry for speech. “Harrison is the actual Duke of Everard? He has been all this time?”

“Since he was sixteen and his father died, I’m afraid.” Fletcher still sounded apologetic. “He is called the Griffin Duke, you know. You must have heard his popular title?”

“Of course,” she said numbly. “I just thought it was because he supported and housed the squad.” She gestured around the mews. “I thought it was an affectation. Harrison and I even talked about the pain of losing a parent too young—it’s something we both understand, unfortunately. But I didn’t know the Duke’s father had died when he was sixteen, so I didn’t make the connection.”

She tried to think back to the first time she had seen a group of nobles walking down the street and Maddie had whispered that it was the Duke of Everard. Had Harrison been there? He must have been, in his usual restrained black outfit. So of course her eye had leaped to the flamboyantly dressed Lord Crane.

She groaned, covering her face with her hands. “How could I have been so stupid?”

“You know, I think I can see it happening,” Fletcher said. “Lord Crane is one of the nobles who sticks most closely to Everard. He likes the reflected glory. If someone pointed them out as a group, who wouldn’t look at Crane first? The man is a walking circus tent.”

“But how could I just assume Lord Crane was the Duke without checking to be sure!?” Chloe cried.

“It does seem a rather significant oversight in the circumstances,” Fletcher agreed in such a cheerful voice that she dropped her hands and glared at him. “Did you really not know the Duke’s first name is Harrison? Harrison, tenth Duke of Everard. A lofty name for someone whose main interest is in being captain of a griffin squad.”

Chloe shook her head. She had only ever heard him referred to as the Duke of Everard.

Fletcher laughed at her expression. “Don’t despair. He’ll come around, I’m sure of it. He might not give you a griffin egg, but I’ll warrant he gives you something of greater value.”