Free Love Birds of Regent's Park by Ruth J. Hartman Page A

wait. Much as it would pain Oliver, his father needed to hear it from him. Before someone else had a chance to tell him. It would be horrible if some man on the street gave an innocent, “By the way, saw your son at the Sanctuary. Did you know he’s using an alias? ”
    Oliver lowered his head. “ I’ve been telling people who’ve inquired that my name is… Oliver Barrow.”
    “ Your mother’s maiden name? Am I to understand you’re ashamed of my name?” His hands fisted against the arms of his chair.
    “ No. Of course not.”
    “ Then why would a son of mine do something so asinine?”
    Oliver shrugged. “Aside from me not wanting my peers to know what I’m up to, it goes along with you wanting me to find my soul mate. How can I hope to find the right one, the woman who will love me for me instead of the bulk of wealth and this large estate that I could provide? Surely you haven’t forgotten the many young, simpering women who vowed to marry me on the spot. They did not really know me. If not for what they could grasp with greedy hands, why else would they be so anxious to get me to the altar? If you truly desire for me to have what you had with Mother, you’ll try to understand my reasons.”
    For several seconds, silence. His father blinked and swallowed. “I think I do understand. I wish it didn’t have to be that way. That you could be who you want to be and who you are at the same time.”
    “ It’s not that I don’t—”
    “ I’m not condemning you. It is true that young ladies do seem greedy sometimes. Much to my dismay.” He took a deep breath and let it out, this time producing a frightening rattle.
    Oliver knelt on the floor at his father’s knee and took the older man’s hand in his. His cold, clammy skin was alarming. “Thank you for understanding. I think this is the only way I will truly know for sure if she cares for me instead of who I am. I… need to be sure.”
    A tear travele d down his father’s ruddy cheek and dripped from his chin to his shirtfront. “I wish for you only the best, because I… love you.”
    “ And I, you, Father. And I, you.”

 
     
    Chapter Eight
     
    A light breeze blew through the garden, stirring the leaves of the red rose bushes and those of the large oak tree on the other side of the walking path. Sunshine, broken by thick tree branches, produced dappled light, dancing with its bright spots across Lucy’s dress and boots.
    Gerald, her marmalade cat, purred and wound around Lucy’s legs. Then he stopped and sat on his haunches, studying her with large eyes as if searching her mind and soul for her deepest, most thought-provoking secrets. It brought to mind being scrutinized by a physician, eyes roaming every inch, seeking something out of the ordinary.
    Lucy sat on her mother’s favorite bench, just beneath the maple tree her father had had planted for her mother shortly after Lucy was born. The tree had grown quite tall in the whole of Lucy’s years, now providing shelter, shade, and homes for nesting birds.
    Now that Lucy had spent time at the Sanctuary learning about some of the birds, she knew that the newly hatched babies in the nest above her were sparrows. And the talkative tiny ones flittering about the roses were finches. She hadn’t seen any owls on the property, but that didn’t stop her from looking. Wouldn’t it be amusing to discover a sleeping long-eared owl in her very own tree?
    She tilted her head back against the bench and studied the tree above her. The mother sparrow fed her chirping babies one at a time, their small mouths open wide, waiting for dinner. Oh, how she missed her own mother. The tree brought back pleasant memories of time spent together beneath it, of talks and picnics and playing with Gerald’s predecessor, his mother Gertrude. But sadness came along as well. It reminded her of her mother’s illness, the pain she'd suffered before she died. Lucy’s father’s grief and loss, as well as her own.
    Now,