Read Anita Mills Online

Authors: Newmarket Match

Anita Mills (4 page)

BOOK: Anita Mills
12.19Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

“I was under the impression that you had disposed of that matter,” she remarked, her eyes accusing her husband of dereliction in his duty.

“Ah … yes … yes, I did, my dear. Gave ’em to Sherborne, didn’t I?” Sir John cast a speaking appeal at Richard.

“A cat? Whatever for?” Thornton demanded curiously. “Surely not … That is to say …” He paused, quelled by Richard’s expression of open dislike, and then finished lamely, “I cannot abide the creatures myself, and cannot think that a man … well, a cat ain’t a man’s animal, after all.”

Richard, who was about to deny any affinity for cats himself, noted that Harriet sat white-faced and stricken, her agitation betrayed by the twisting of her napkin in her hands. Her earlier appeal seemed to ring in his ears.
Richard, do not let her kill poor innocent creatures! Say you will help me!
And out of the corner of his eye he could see his aunt’s smug triumph as she faced her stepdaughter. Groaning inwardly, he forced himself to smile at Hannah.

“Did not Harriet tell you?” he heard himself saying. “I find myself quite in need of a cat, actually—mice, you know.”

It was as though a great sigh of relief escaped Harriet, and the color flooded back into her face. Her dark eyes brimmed with gratitude, and he felt somehow rewarded for his effort. But Hannah fixed him with a disbelieving stare.

“You have driven all the way to Rowe’s Hill for a
cat?”
she demanded awfully. “I cannot credit it—’tis a Banbury tale if ever I heard one, Richard Standen! Farms are full of the creatures—indeed, they are everywhere! And you cannot say …” She goggled, overcome by a rare loss of words.

Richard’s gaze dropped to the tiny claw marks on the back of his hand. “But I fancied a black one.”

“Three.” Harriet smiled crookedly at him from her seat down the table. “I believe you said you would take three.”

“Did I? I say, but I don’t …” The mute appeal in her eyes was again unmistakable, prompting him to sigh. “Oh, yes—three,” he capitulated gracefully.

“ ’Tis settled, then,” Sir John announced, firmly dismissing the unpleasant subject. “Well, now, let’s have no more talk of cats in this house. I for one am for my dessert and a bit of port afterward. What say you, Thornton—care to stay for a glass?”

Later, as he passed Harriet on his way to her father’s library, Richard’s mouth twisted wryly as he hissed for her ears alone, “You wretch—you scheming little minx! What the devil am I to do with three cats?”

“Keep them alive,” she whispered back.

“You are beholden to me for this, Harry—I know not how or when, but I mean to be repaid. Cats!”

Hannah’s head went back at the sound of Harriet’s answering giggle, and as soon as the men were out of earshot she retorted tartly, “Well, I suppose it makes more sense for him to want a mouser than to come to see you, after all. A man like Richard Standen is above your touch, missy, and don’t you forget it.”

“Of course, Mama. I am not such a fool as to cast out lures to him, if that is what you are insinuating.”

“Humph! See as you don’t, then. You’ve a far better chance with Mr. Thornton, I can tell you.” Rising stiffly, the older woman leaned on a chair, her back to Harriet. “You will retire for the night, of course.”

“You do not wish me to entertain Mr. Thornton?” Harriet asked with feigned innocence. “But I thought—”

“I do not wish you putting yourself before my nephew like a shameless baggage,” Hannah responded coldly. “Good night.”

Thwarted in his efforts to share Two Harry with Harriet, Richard rose early and considered the possibility of escaping without the three cats. But he knew now that to do so would seal the fate of the poor animals, and while he held no affection for them, he was not cruel. Besides, he did owe Harriet a favor, after all. Without her generosity, Two Harry would not exist for him, and that horse meant next to everything to him. Two Harry was going to make him the envy of every sporting blood in England, he was certain.

With that in mind, he came downstairs ready to leave, telling himself that three cats were a small sacrifice for a bang-up racehorse. Already in the front hall, Harriet and Thomas were disputing the means of transporting the animals, with the footman’s stoutly maintaining that the basket on his arm was quite the only one Lady Rowe would allow.

“But it has no lid!” Richard heard his step-cousin protest. “You cannot take kittens in a basket with no lid in a carriage, else they—”

“Er, I rather thought to put them in the boot,” Richard interrupted.

“The boot? Nonsense! ’Tis cold and they would freeze.” She dismissed the notion with a forcefulness he’d not seen in her in years.

He approached the basket warily, wondering again at what he’d done, only to be reassured somewhat by the sight of a rather large gray tabby curled against the small black kitten and a tiny mottled calico one that could only be described as an acutely ugly runt. Without thinking, Richard poked the little calico with a fingertip.

“Harry, this has to be the ugliest creature I have ever been privileged to see,” he complained. “He won’t even have to actually catch the mice to kill them.”

“She. Calicos are females, Richard. And positively homely kittens sometimes grow into beautiful animals.”

He eyed the small furball skeptically for a moment, and as if it knew it were the subject of discussion, the kitten opened its eyes to look back at him. One eye was blue and the other was yellow.

“Harry, its eyes do not even match.”

She lifted the tiny orange-and-black-and-white kitten from the basket and rubbed its nose against hers. “Heloise is quite the sweetest-tempered creature you will ever encounter, Richard. She cannot help it if she looks as though she were naught but patches of colors.”

“Heloise?”

“Yes.” She laid the kitten back in the basket and pointed to the other two. “The mama is Athena, because she is positively wise—she knows when you are blue-deviled or out of reason cross and she always soothes, and the black one is Abelard.”

“So named for his piety?” he cut in with a hint of sarcasm.

“Well, I never thought of Abelard as particularly pious,” she murmured. “There was Heloise, after all.”

“Yes, well, I am willing to wager
that
Heloise had more to recommend her than this one.” He looked up at the footman, who still held the blanket. “Put them in the carriage, then, my good fellow, but see that they are on the floor.” To Harriet he added, “I did not come all this way to discuss cats, Harry. I’ve something of a more important nature to tell you.”

“Oh … oh, yes. Well, we can speak in the front saloon, I believe, for Hannah is not yet down.”

Her manner had changed once again, becoming more tentative. Impulsively he reached for her arm. “You must not let her overset you so, Harry. Stand up to her—’tis the only way. Otherwise you will be under thumb forever.”

She looked down at his fingers on her elbow. “Do you think I have not tried? Do you think I did not fight her at first? ’Twas so long ago, but I still remember the birchings she gave me to improve my character, Richard, and I still remember that my father will always agree with her to keep his peace.” Her voice had dropped to little more than a whisper. “I… I know you must think me a silly, weak creature, but I can do naught but hate her in silence, God forgive me.”

“Harry … Harry …”

“Why do you think it was that George left?” she demanded passionately. “He took the only opportunity that presented itself to leave this place. Oh, how I would that I were a man and I could escape also. But the only escape for me is to take Edwin Thornton, and … and I cannot do it.”

“Could you not go to George?”

“I have not his direction, I fear, for he is not the least good at writing letters. Besides, I doubt he would be wishful of having a sister hanging on his sleeve. No, when he was safely gone from here, he forgot what he left behind—and well he should. She was not kind to him either.”

“I’m sorry, Harry.”

The kindness in his voice was almost more than she could bear. “No.” She shook her head determinedly, as though she would not accept his pity.

“ ’Tis not your concern, Richard. If I am to come about, I will have to think of something on my own.” She pulled away from him and walked resolutely toward the front saloon. “Now, I’d hear of Two Harry, if you do not mind telling me of him.”

“You are certain? There was so much to say that I could not convey in the letter, but perhaps you
would not wish to hear of anything so trivial.”

“Oh, no! I assure you that ’tis not the case in the least! Owning half a racehorse, even one that has not yet raced, is far more exciting than anything I have ever done, Richard. No, you must not think I am not interested! Indeed, I just wish ’twere possible to see him myself.”

“He’s a beauty, Harry—sleek and bred to run. Even with the bad weather last week, I watched him run along the hedgerows at Richlands, and he is as fast as the wind. I—we—shall be the envy of every racing buck in the country, I can tell you.”

“I shall pray he wins.”

“You’ll not need to pray, Harry—he’s a natural racer. I have already engaged the best trainer I could find, and I think I have located an experienced jockey to ride him. Indeed, the most important thing left is to determine our colors, and I wanted you to choose them.” His blue eyes betrayed the excitement he felt whenever he spoke of the horse. “He is, after all, half yours.”

“You wish me to choose the racing colors? Richard, I… well, I have not the least notion, and—”

“Surely you have two favorite hues that, done in satin, would look distinctive.”

“Actually, I like rose and green—deep green—but ’tis scarce what I would think of for—”

“Rose and green it is, then.” His eyes fairly danced as they met hers. “Two Harry will race under rose and green.”

“Will it be expensive—the colors, the jockey, the trainer? There is still the other thousand, Richard.”

“No. ’Tis well-known that I stand to inherit the Standen fortune in a matter of weeks now, so ’tis simple enough to ask them to wait for their money. Indeed, I had thought to offer to repay you.”

“Oh, no—no, I pray you will not,” she responded quickly. “Richard, I quite meant what I said: the notion that I actually own a portion of a real racehorse affords me an enjoyment that my money could not. Besides …” An impish smile played at the corners of her mouth. “Besides, you have saved my cats.”

“You know, Harry, sometimes I think that beneath that cowed and meek exterior there lurks a bit of a baggage in you,” he teased.

“If so, you must surely be the only one to see it, I fear, for Edwin Thornton seems to think me as dull as he is.”

“Harry …” His manner changed, growing serious. “Harry, no matter what they do to you, do not let Aunt Hannah or Uncle John force you into a marriage with Thornton. The man’s naught but a pompous ass.”

“I have already made myself plain on that head, Richard, and with your taking the cats, there’s naught else she can threaten to do to me. But I shall miss them terribly—I shall. I had come to rely on Athena to lift my spirits, you know,” she added wistfully.

“Perhaps she would let you keep the one, then. I could speak with her, and—”

“No. Just promise me that you will take care of them—’tis all I ask.”

“Well, they will not go hungry,” he assured her.

“And you will not stick them out in a barn or stable somewhere, will you?”

“Dash it, Harry—they’re cats!” Then he noted the reproach in those dark eyes of hers, and he relented, sighing. “All right—so long as they do not stay underfoot, they can come in the house.”

“Word of a gentleman?”

“Word of a gentleman. Does that satisfy you?”

It was her turn to sigh. “It has to, I suppose. But, no, it does not. If I had any say in the matter, I should keep them, of course.”

“Harriet!”

Hannah Rowe’s imperious voice reverberated down the hallway, penetrating even the walls of the front saloon. Harriet blanched visibly. “Oh, dear. I have to go, else she will be angered I am here. Godspeed you safely, Richard.”

“Angered?”

“She does not think it meet that I should speak with a man unattended in a closed room.”

“Harry, I am your cousin, and—”

“My step-cousin.” Her eyes darted warily toward the door. “Please—I have to go.”

“I mean to speak to Uncle John of this,” he muttered grimly. “ ’Tis not right.”

“I pray you will not—you can only make my situation worse. Good-bye, Richard.”

Outside in the hall, he overheard Hannah demanding to know where she’d been, but he couldn’t determine Harriet’s low response. And the injustice of it all made him seethe. But she was right: there was little enough he could do to change things for her.

He waited until their footsteps receded to the back of the house before leaving the small parlor, and then he followed them to take his formal leave. That done, he escaped the house she could not, and gratefully swung up into one of his carriage seats. On the floor, the three cats yawned and stretched against the woolen blanket that lined the basket, as though they did not know they had acquired an extremely reluctant owner.

It was not until he’d traveled several miles, his thoughts still troubled by Harriet’s pitiful existence, that he realized that the small calico kitten had managed to climb onto the seat beside him. Emboldened, she edged even closer, until, before he knew it, she’d managed to snuggle against his leg.

“Get off,” he ordered sternly.

For answer, she climbed upon his thigh as though she owned it. And while he watched balefully, she adjusted her small body until it suited her,
stretching to
span the width of his leg, purring all the while.

“Get off, I said!” He started to knock her from her perch, only to remember how anxious Harry had been to secure the cats’ home with him. Gingerly he tried to lift the kitten without pulling the threads in his expensive trousers but obviously Heloise had other ideas. Her small claws took hold, grasping his skin through the cloth, opening and closing, whilst she still purred.

“Can we not call a truce?” he offered hopefully. “You get off me and back into the basket, and I will forget that you have covered me with hair.”

BOOK: Anita Mills
12.19Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Havana by Stephen Hunter
Goddess Boot Camp by Tera Lynn Childs
Dying for the Highlife by Dave Stanton
Lady Star by Claudy Conn
Checkpoint Charlie by Brian Garfield
Made for You by Cheyenne McCray
The End of the Book by Porter Shreve
Errand of Mercy by Moore, Roger