The Falconer (Elizabeth May) Read Free Page A

hunt on my own. I have proven him wrong a dozen times. Of course, he doesn’t know I’ve been disobeying his direct order not to hunt alone, but I have a distinct tendency to disobey him when the opportunity arises.
    The taste of the faery’s power leaves another strong pulse against my tongue. It must be somewhere around the next corner. I stop abruptly. ‘Brilliant,’ I mutter.
    The corridor leads to the bedrooms. If I’m caught inside, there would be no preventing the ensuing scandal. My reputation is intact only because the rumours about me haven’t been proven. Being caught nosing around the Hepburns’ private quarters would be a real issue my already questionable reputation can’t afford.
    I shift on my feet. Perhaps if I’m very quick—
    ‘Aileana!’
    I whirl. Oh . . . hell .
    Catherine and her mother, the Viscountess of Cassilis, stand in the corridor behind me by the double doors leading into the ballroom. As they approach, Catherine stares at me with surprise and confusion, and her mother – well, she regards me with blatant suspicion.
    ‘Aileana,’ Catherine says again when they reach me. ‘What are you doing over here?’
    Both women share the same shining blonde hair and wide blue eyes, though Lady Cassilis’s gaze is shrewd rather than innocent. She has the keenest ability to notice even the smallest infraction in propriety. Nay, even the merest hint of disgrace.
    Dash it all. This is bad, being caught heading in the direction of the Hepburns’ private wing. This isn’t where a respectable woman would be. Or, at least, she wouldn’t get caught here. That’s the important bit.
    ‘Catching my breath,’ I say hurriedly, breathing hard for emphasis. ‘Lord Hamilton is very quick on his feet, you know.’
    Catherine looks terribly amused. ‘Oh? Well, for a man of his age, I suppose.’
    ‘ So ,’ I say, narrowing my eyes at Catherine, ‘I’m here to relax a moment. That’s all.’
    ‘My dear ,’ Lady Cassilis says with heavy emphasis, ‘you should relax in the ballroom, which is this way.’ She inclines her head towards the doors down the hall.
    The faery power leaves a distracting pulse against my tongue – it must be extending its powers again to draw someone in. My body tenses in response. ‘Oh, aye,’ I say. My voice sounds strained. ‘But—’
    ‘ Yes ,’ the viscountess corrects. ‘“Aye” sounds so terribly unsophisticated.’
    Lady Cassilis is among the small but growing number of Scottish aristocracy who believe that if we speak like the English, Scotland will be considered a more civilised nation. It’s a load of rubbish, if you ask me. We’re perfectly urbane as we are. But I’d rather not debate the matter in a hallway while there’s a bloodthirsty faery on the loose.
    ‘Aye, of course. I mean, yes ,’ I respond. Heavens, isn’t there any way to gracefully extricate myself from this conversation?
    ‘Mother.’ Catherine inserts herself between us. ‘I’m certain Aileana has a reasonable explanation for . . . loitering here.’ She turns to me. ‘I thought you promised this dance to Lord Carrick.’
    ‘I have a headache,’ I say, trying to sound as innocent as possible. ‘I was searching for the ladies’ parlour to rest.’
    Catherine raises an eyebrow. I return it with a glare.
    ‘Well, do let me come with you,’ Catherine says.
    ‘Ah, the ever-persistent headache,’ Lady Cassilis says. ‘If you intend to nurse it in the ladies’ parlour, you’ll find that at the other end of the corridor.’
    The viscountess narrows her gaze at me. I have no illusions that if she had proof of my ill behaviour, Catherine would have been barred from spending time with me long ago. Lady Cassilis might be my escort to formal functions, but only because Catherine asked her to, since the viscountess and my mother were friends. I can’t imagine what on earth they had in common.
    ‘Regardless,’ Lady Cassilis says, ‘a lady ought never to leave a ballroom