Inamorata

Chapter Twenty-One - Light-Wingèd Dryad

Chapter Twenty-One - Author's note: The title is a quotation from "Ode to a Nightingale", by the way. It's a lovely poem, and I thought it was fitting for the story. Google it, listen to someone read it, if you want to know how pretty it is. Of course, votes and comments are always lovely!

Nightingale was lying back on the sofa, listening in bliss to the sound of Clarence and Robin reading aloud to her. Their voices played off one another as they alternated stanzas of "Ode to a Nightingale". Clarence's low, baritone voice contrasted Robin's high, smooth tenor and made for a very pleasing, melodic mix.

At that moment, David slunk into the room. Immediately, all three of them looked up. His already irritated expression seemed to curl further into churlishness as he glared at Robin and Clarence.

"What in the name of God are you doing?" he sniped at them.

Robin smiled but Clarence scowled.

"Reading to Nightingale," he said, his low voice an elegant, angry growl. "She had this poem with her and Robin and I agreed to read it."

David snorted disdainfully. Nightingale rolled her eyes at his temper.

"Oh, pardon us for being gentlemen, David," huffed Robin, the only indication that he was not actually angry with David being the mischievous sparkle in his eyes. "But Miss Nightingale here was bored, and we were trying to entertain her."

"I'm not sure that's Nightingale's idea of entertainment," retorted David. When Nightingale's jaw dropped in astounded anger, she noticed that he shot her only a quick little glare, his eyes cold as ice. Immediately, he went back to pointedly ignoring her. It was strange. Before, he'd had no problem staring at her - as a matter of fact, he'd been the only man to whom her looks seemed to mean nothing.

Now, he was making a deliberate attempt not to stare. It chafed at Nightingale's already raw nerves.

"David, would you please attempt to be a little less of a horse's ass?" snapped Robin, pursing his lips and narrowing his eyes disapprovingly at David.

Clarence seemed surprised at Robin's impertinence with David. However, Nightingale could see that he was secretly pleased by it, based on the way he shot her a conspiring smile.

David simply glared. Nightingale could practically see David imagining murdering Robin brutally from the way his eyes flashed and his hands clenched.

"I'll stop when you and Clarence stop being so ridiculously besotted with her," he growled, gesturing sharply at Nightingale without looking at her.

"Jealous," murmured Clarence, though he never denied David's claim.

Nightingale pressed her lips together to prevent herself from laughing. Hearing her give a strangled, most unlike-Nightingale giggle - perhaps the first giggle she'd ever given - Clarence flashed a very charming smile.

It only earned him a glower from David - the kind of glare that could curdle milk.

When Robin laughed, David simply shook his head. With his nose in the air and a haughty frown on his face, he stared down at the seated Clarence.

"You. I have things to discuss with you," he said.

Clarence winced a little bit and stood up, nodding. "Of course."

"Robin. Entertain the light-wingèd dryad elsewhere," snapped David when Nightingale and Robin made no move.

Robin smiled at the quotation from "Ode to a Nightingale", though from the way he winced, he did not appreciate how David mocked the beauty of the poetry with his scornful tone.