Lady Lissa's Liaison by Lindsay Randall Read Free Book Online Page A

as to what exactly he'd been wrong about, she knew better than to do so. She immediately sat down and pulled out her journal and sketchbooks. Spreading them out on the table, she flipped through a few pages of each, finally finding the desired entries.
    She peered up at him. "Shall we begin with constructing a green-drake?"
    "You tell me, Lady Lissa."
    By the tone of his voice Lissa could discern that he had sufficiently recovered himself from whatever bad memories his one lapse in judgment had caused him. He seemed to be ready to begin the lesson.
    "A green-drake it is." Lissa reached for a square-shaped box that held a number of large hooks.
    "Why that particular fly?" Wylde asked, straddling the bench, his muscled body facing Lissa's left side.
    She kept her thoughts firmly affixed to what she was about. "A green-drake is taken by trout at all hours during its season," she explained. "The day can be early, late, windy or rainy. It matters not."
    "Then why use any other fly?"
    It was an honest question, posed by one who truly did not know a great deal about insects. Lissa finally found the perfect hook; it was large and sturdy, and extremely well made.
    "Just as man cannot live by bread alone, my lord," she explained, "a fish cannot live by just one fly alone. That same fish also knows that it does not have to do so, not with all the flies that breed and die alongside the water. The green-drake is a good fly, and will taunt any number of trout to surface; but it has a short life span, and even though an angler might catch a trout with one after the fly's life period, it would not do to fish all the year with such a fly."
    "I see," Wylde said quietly, and then, as Lissa pulled out the hook she'd chosen, he swung his outer leg over the bench and shimmied beside her, so that their bodies were almost touching.
    Lissa drew in a deep breath, expelled it, then directed her thoughts on what was needed to dress the hook. She spied some yellow silk that had been waxed green.
    "This is what we need," she said. Noting Lord Wylde's quizzical look, Lissa explained, "It is important to dye or color silks and feathers to the perfect hue of an insect's color. Lord Markham knew what he was about; this particular silk will do well for the green-drake's body."
    As Lord Wylde watched, she held the hook in one hand, then began to choose dubbing from the assortment surrounding her. She mixed together camel's hair, brilliant bear's hair, the soft down from a hog's bristles, and yellow camlet. All of this went onto the hook, piece by piece, creating a long body.
    Next, Lissa picked up the yellow silk waxed with green wax, ribbing it around the artificial fly's body.
    "It is most important to make the body of a fly as tight as possible," she said. "My father taught me that trout can be absolutely savage when on the feed. They will strike hard and fast and can literally split your fly asunder. It is imperative to keep the body tightly woven; otherwise it will unravel and you will lose a large fish."
    "What else did your father teach you about trout?"
    "Many things... Did you know trout eat bigger game than flies?"
    He shook his head.
    "Ah, but they do," Lissa said, warming to her subject, relaxing somewhat. "It was not at all uncommon for my father to find small animals in the bellies of the trout he caught. Mice, moles, baby muskrats—he found them numerous times inside trout. A trout, my lord, wants something to wrap its strong jaws around, and so you must create a fly that will entice it to do so. My father was very adept at tying flies that looked similar to small mice. He called them his 'Midnight Caller.' He would often fish not at sunrise, but during the dark of the moon."
    Wylde's attention was keen. "How interesting," he murmured.
    "My father was an exceptional man who respected the nature surrounding him and who made great attempts to understand the habits and needs of every living creature that dwells near the Dove."
    "I see he succeeded