Page 25 of His Sinful Touch

“Yes, yes.” Alex reached inside the cage and picked a nut from the cup attached to the side, holding it up to the bird. Wellington cracked and ate it, all the while regarding Sabrina with his beady black eyes. “Wellie, this is Sabrina. Can you say Sabrina?”

He twisted his head a different way and squawked.

“Sorry.” Alex grinned at her. “I shouldn’t try to teach him your name. He’ll be a dead nuisance if he learns it.”

“He’s beautiful. He’s so big...and red.”

“Red Wellie,” the bird offered, and Sabrina laughed. “He’s gorgeous.” She stretched out a tentative hand. “May I touch him?”

“Yes. He won’t bite. He’ll just take off if he doesn’t want to be petted.”

But the bird stayed put as Sabrina stroked a gentle finger over his head. Spreading his wings a little, Wellie preened, then folded them back down.

“Shall we go?” Alex opened the door, stepping back with a grand sweep of his arm to usher Sabrina out. He made an odd picture, so handsome, so elegant...and sporting a vivid red-and-blue parrot on his shoulder.

Sabrina smiled to herself and started down the hall, wondering what oddity awaited her next in the Moreland household.

Chapter Nine

SHE SOON FOUND OUT. The door to Uncle Bellard’s sitting room stood open. Sabrina stopped in the doorway, gazing around her in wonder. The chamber was less a sitting room than a display area. Scattered all about the room, among a few chairs and an occasional stool, was a hodgepodge of tables of various sizes and heights. Whether they were scarred and pitted, or shiny and new, or gilt-edged Louis XVs, round, square or rectangular, all of them were filled with toy soldiers.

“Uncle Bellard reconstructs famous battles,” Alex explained, his hand on her elbow urging her into the room. “That’s Agincourt. Waterloo. Something or other at Sedgemoor.” He waved his hand around. “The rest of the collection’s at the estate house.”

“It’s very impressive.”

“It usually leaves one speechless.” Alex cast her a grin, turned and said, “Uncle Bellard?”

Distracted as she had been by the displays, Sabrina had not seen the small man standing in front of a large bookcase, perusing its shelves. His uncle had apparently not noticed their entrance, either, for he turned now at Alex’s words, looking pleased, his head tilted inquiringly. With his beaked nose, bright eyes and hair sticking out in odd clumps, he reminded her forcibly of Wellie.

“Ah, Alex.” He beamed at his nephew. “I didn’t expect you. And Miss, um...”

“Sabrina.”

“Yes, of course.” He felt for the spectacles that were sitting on his head and pulled them into place. “You’re the young lady with the amnesia. Most fascinating.” His gaze moved to Alex’s shoulder. “Hello, General. Haven’t seen you since you stole Henry.”

“Henry the Fifth,” Alex said, apparently interpreting as he pointed toward one of the tables. “Agincourt.” The parrot left Alex’s shoulder to perch on a bust atop a cabinet, where he could survey the room and the street outside. “Don’t pick up anything, Wellie, or it’s back to your cage.”

“Good Wellie,” the bird squawked.

Sabrina looked around the room with interest. Every wall was lined with bookcases, and several more tomes sat stacked on chairs, tables and the floor in a seemingly haphazard manner. It was not only a display room, but also a library.

She moved closer to one of the tables, where an elaborate replica was laid out, including a painted papier-mâché landscape with figures of trees and shrubbery and even a small house, as well as two lines of armies, one wearing Scottish tartans.

“Culloden,” Bellard told her helpfully. “There’s Trafalgar.” He pointed to another layout, where tiny boats sailed on a mirror sea.

“Did you build these?” Sabrina leaned closer, fascinated.

“What? Oh, yes, I laid out the armies. Alex and Con made the hills and valleys when they were younger—well, mostly Alex. He was always interested in building things. Con liked to map out the terrain.” He beamed at her, then at Alex. “Now, what can I help you with?”

“What makes you think I came here for help?” Alex protested. “Perhaps we only wanted to chat.”

“I may be old, boy, but I’m not senile yet.” The old man’s eyes twinkled. “I don’t think you’re squiring a young lady around to show her some musty old books and battles.”

Alex grinned. “What do you know about Baddesly Commons?”

“Baddesly Commons.” He considered the matter. “It’s a village, isn’t it? What happened there?”

“Nothing that I know of. I just thought if something had, you would be familiar with it. And if you did, you might know what families were in the area.”