Get Thee Off My Lawn by Daria Vernon EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Daria Vernon
- Language: English
- Genre: Regency Romances
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Dorset 1808
April Nightingale would not stand for it. The swan was hers and the
curmudgeon of Derring Hall could fight her for it. At eight-and-eighty
years of age, he would lose.
Her gaze alit on the Derring pond as she crested the berm between their
properties. Mr. Derring possessed three times the land of the Nightingale
dower, but the pond itself was nothing to speak of. It was neither large
enough nor clean enough to keep any swan properly content. And certainly
not one so deserving as her Gerald.
She smiled when she spotted him—her little cygnet, all grown—looking
proud and regal in spite of his overgrown surroundings. She’d have known
him anywhere.
He’d had his fun, paddling about on the neighbor’s pond for three days,
but it was well into spring, and, at nearly three years old, he was due to pair
with her other swan, Daphne, any day. The gentleman at the Dyers’
hatchery had all but guaranteed a happy match.
April had kept an eye toward the garden for weeks, awaiting that
moment when they would hook their necks in eternal companionship. She
would not forfeit the goal merely because someone’s lost hound had
frightened Gerald onto Derring land.
She marched down the grassy slope of the berm. Any qualms over
trespassing were quashed by the nobleness of her goal.
She called out as she approached the water’s edge. “Gerald, darling!”
Hers was the first face he had seen upon hatching, and he usually
perked at hearing his name, yet now he paid her no mind.
But April had not come onto Derring land unprepared. Armed with a
fistful of crumbs, she removed a pinch and held it out over the water.
“Gerald,” she cooed. “I’ve something for you.”
Gerald turned his back on her and kicked away.
She threw the crumbs onto the water, but they were ignored.
Worry shot through her. Had she waited too long to fetch him? Did he
not remember her?
She hurried around the pond’s edge to head him off on the other side.
Here the bank was shadier. She swore under her breath as grasses, dried and
overgrown snagged at her muslin hem. She was, however, pleasantly
surprised to find Gerald continuing in her direction. She crouched into a
teetering position at the water’s edge. “There we are, love. Keep coming.
We will get you home.”
She sprinkled more crumbs in front of him. This time, he took notice,
darting from crumb to crumb in front of her.
But there was a problem. While the other end of the pond had a gently
sloped edge—the perfect beach upon which to lure a swan—here the soil
dropped off steeply from erosion. How was she to lure him onto the grassy
lip which rose two hands’ height from the water?
She leaned forward, reaching for Gerald when he was near, but she
could only just brush his wing with her fingertips.
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