The Christmas Kittens (7 page)

Anthea paced in front of Binx and Lady Rosalind having just poured out the details of the meeting in the rear parlor. “I tell you my cousin is despicable. She is making Aunt Flora send Karis away.”

“But why?” Lady Rosalind looked up at her nurse, puzzled.

Binx returned the girls' questioning stare. She realized, she being the adult, they were expecting an answer from her. “Well, I can't say why your cousin--what did you say `er name was?”

“Miss Dorinda Westerly.”

Binx brows rose. “The same Miss Westerly what claimed to be thrown from `er `orse in front of the manor?”

Anthea nodded her head. “The very same.”

“Then `tis clear as glass. Your cousin is a cunning baggage. Tryin' to get Lord Marsden to make up to `er and she don't want no other female about distractin' `im. Wasting her time, if you ask me. `E'd be much better off if `e married up with your sister.”

At first Anthea's face brightened, then her expression grew gloomy. “Karis says that titled gentleman never marry penniless ladies.”

Binx sadly replied, “`Tis commonly true.”

Lady Rosalind jumped to her feet. “I wish my papa would wed your sister. Then we would be a family and I should never have to live with Grandmama again. I like Miss Karis immensely but does my father?”

Binx shrugged her shoulders. “Lord Marsden does get a certain look in `is eyes when they rest on the lady. But you two are gettin' way ahead of things `ere. `Is lordship ain't said nothin' about gettin' married.”

The girls' faces grew gloomly, both realizing that Binx was right. Then Lady Rosalind smiled, “I just had a thought. If your sister is going to be a governess, why not be mine? Papa fired the one Grandmama had employed so I shall need a new one. Then you might come and live with us, too. I shall ask him after dinner tonight.”

Anthea was in alt. “I am certain that Karis would much rather work for your father than some unknown lady.”

Binx grinned at the pair as they dance around together arm-in-arm. “There can't be no `arm in askin’.”

Knowing she must go, Anthea requested that her friend send word as to the outcome of the meeting, then she took her leave. It was a surprisingly lighthearted miss who encountered her older sister in the fading light in the woods. After receiving a stinging reprimand, Anthea begged Karis's forgiveness and asked to be allowed to offer her cousin and aunt an apology.

At first, Karis was suspicious of her sister's benevolent mood. She wondered what had occurred to leave the girl so changed. But the improvement was so fortuitous, she was unwilling to question Anthea about the cause. Instead she took her straight to the rear parlor where the child willingly and prettily begged her aunt and cousin's pardon, even going so far as to volunteer to play the pianoforte for them after dinner.

“Papa, are you listening to me?” Lady Rosalind turned in her chair, when her father failed to answer her question. She'd joined him in the library after he'd dined to ask him about Miss Lockhart.

“I am sorry, Rosebud. My mind was someplace else.” He'd been remembering the feel of Miss Lockhart's warm mouth. It was a thought that had played over and over in his mind since their encounter under the mistletoe. Telling himself he'd behaved like a rake, and no doubt given the lady a disgust of him, the marquess pushed the memory away. Bringing his gaze to focus on his daughter, he asked her to repeat the question.

“I asked if you intended on engaging a new governess for me?”

Marsden smiled and reached over, tousling his daughter's brown curls. “I would not have thought you so anxious to get back to your studies, little one.”

“Well, as to that, I am not, but Anthea tells me her sister is to be sent away to be a governess and I thought . . . that we might engage her to be mine.” Rosalind held her breathe as she watched her father's reaction.

Marsden froze at his daughter's news. Miss Lockhart was being sent from Westwood to be a governess. So that was Miss Westerly's punishment. But he could give little thought to the conniving Dorinda, for he suddenly realized he might never see Miss Lockhart again.

“Papa, did you hear me? I want Miss Lockhart to be my governess and to live with us.” Lady Rosalind eyed her father curiously. Whatever was causing him to behave in such a strange manner, as if he'd taken leave of his senses?

His daughter's words came to him through a haze of emotions, and the marquess repeated her words in a daze. “You want the lady to live with us?”

The very thought of Karis Lockhart living under his roof caused an intense heat to flare deep within him. As if the heat burgeoned into a fire and suddenly burned through an obstructing wall, he knew he did want her with him, but not as some hired companion for his daughter. In that instant, he realized he loved Karis. He wanted her to be his wife.

But the memory of her unhappy face after he'd kissed her troubled him. She'd declared she wouldn't be returning to Whiteoaks. She'd rushed up the stairs never to return, then left the manor by the backstairs to avoid him. Very likely she never wanted to set eyes on him again, thinking him nothing more than one of those despicable gentlemen who preyed on impoverished ladies without protection of father or brother. He'd ruined everything with one tantalizing kiss.

With that dark thought, he glanced up at the hopeful eyes of his daughter. “We cannot employ Miss Lockhart as your governess.”

Rosalind sagged back in the chair, disappointment etched on her face. “But why, Papa?”

“Because, child, I fear I acted foolishly this afternoon, and she appears set against me. I doubt she will ever visit Whiteoaks again.” Marsden sighed when he thought about the dinner he'd agreed to attend the next evening. Perhaps he could apologize, if he got a chance. But the lady would likely make some excuse to remain in her room to avoid meeting him again.

Lady Rosalind had no clue what her father was referring to but she remembered Miss Lockhart had appeared very flushed when she came to the nursery to take Anthea home. Obviously the lady and her father had argued. It was clearly up to her and Anthea to get them together so they might apologize. She wanted Karis and Anthea to live with them and she wouldn't allow a misunderstanding to end her dreams. She stared into the fire for several minutes, then smiled up at her father. “Don't be sad, Papa. I am certain that everything will turn out just as it should.”

Marsden made the effort to smile at his daughter. “Ah, it would be nice to again possess the optimism of youth. Now off to bed with you, my Rosebud.”

After his daughter exited, the marquess's thoughts centered on Karis Lockhart. He loved her, could she ever return his feelings? He suddenly felt as insecure as a young fellow new to Town. He drew confront from the memory of her response to his kiss. Hope swelled in his chest. Knowing nothing would be resolved until he again came face-to-face with Karis, he retired to his bed determined he would find some way to offer the lady his heart.

The following morning he awoke to his daughter's distraught cries. The kittens had gone missing during the night and his Rosebud was heartbroken.

After a thorough search of the house revealed nothing, Lady Rosalind couldn't be consoled. Binx announced there was only one thing to do--summon the Lockhart sisters.

Karis sat in front of the nursery fire, a copy of Scott's Lady of the Lake open on her lap. Her aunt had ordered her to keep Anthea out of the way after the child had accidently knocked over a vase of hot house flowers during the bustle of activity surrounding the arrangements for the dinner that evening. Since Dorinda was in her room trying to decide which gown to wear, the sisters had the morning to themselves.

Anthea held Mrs. Damon, stroking her grey fur and whispering in the cat's ear as she gazed out the window. But Karis was too distracted to give much thought to the child's strangely secretive mood.

Karis pretended to read, but in truth, her thoughts kept straying to Lord Marsden and his kiss. The memory of his lips on hers left her feeling breathless. Her cheeks warmed when she realized how much she wished to have him take her in his arms again, even knowing he'd been merely offering her a Christmas embrace. Her heart skipped a beat when she remembered he would be in this very house tonight. Would she be able to keep her feelings hidden from him?

The nursery door opened and Mary entered. “Miss Lockhart, there's a message for you from Whiteoaks.” The maid handed her the folded white vellum.

With trembling fingers, Karis read the brief note. The marquess begged her to come to the manor at once. Disaster had struck and the kittens were missing. He hoped she or Anthea might help him by bringing the kitten's mother. He'd signed the note with only the letter M.

Karis's heart hammered at the thought of seeing the marquess again. Could she behave as if the kiss had never happened? She must, for she would not leave him to handle such a crisis alone. She knew how distressed he would be over his daughter's unhappiness.

“Anthea, we must go to Whiteoaks at once. Bring Mrs. Damon for the kittens are lost.”

Anthea didn't argue or ask any questions, which Karis, were she not so preoccupied, would have found strange. They quickly donned their wraps and hurried through the woods, bringing the protesting feline. Karis tried to keep her thoughts centered on Lady Rosalind and the lost kittens. This was no time for her foolish fancies about the child's father.

Within a short time they were being ushered into the Whiteoaks nursery by Mrs. Shelby. Binx and Lady Rosalind were seated near the fire as the child cried rather noisily into a handkerchief. Lord Marsden stood beside the window, a thoughtful expression on his handsome face.

Karis's heart lurched. She thought him devastatingly handsome in a blue morning coat and grey buckskins. He came to them, a look of gratitude in his grey eyes.

“Thank you for coming so promptly, Miss Lockhart. As you can see we are at sixes and sevens here this morning.”

Anthea took Mrs. Damon to Lady Rosalind, and the child's cries ceased as she took the large mother cat from her friend, cradling it lovingly in her arms. The two girls fell to whispering and eyeing the conversing pair covertly.

Karis concentrated on the matter at hand, attempting to ignore the marquess's powerful presence beside her. “How do you think the kittens escaped the nursery, my lord?”

“That is the mystery of this strange occurrence.”

“No doubt someone accidently left a door open.”

The marquess gaze rested thoughtfully on his daughter. “Yes, no doubt someone did.”

Anthea rose, coming to her sister's side. “Perhaps you should search the stables. You know how Mrs. Damon loves to look for mice in the hay. Very likely her offspring have the same instinct for the hunt.”

Karis was about to protest that the kittens could not have gotten that far away as well as being too small to be mousing when the marquess interrupted.

“We have looked everywhere else. We may as well search the stables. Miss Anthea, you stay with my daughter and I shall accompany your sister.”

Karis allowed the gentleman to lead her from the nursery, trying to ignore his enticing smell of sandalwood. Neither spoke while they made their way to the stables. Karis kept her gaze to the ground, but she felt his lordship's gaze on her.

As they entered the building, she heard the muffled chatter of the grooms in the tack room at the rear of the stable. Finally she brought her gaze up to meet Lord Marsden's compelling countenance. “I don't think it likely that the kittens could have come this far from the house.”

The marquess grinned down at her. “Oh, I think it very likely they are here. No doubt helped on their long journey.”

“Helped?” Karis could barely say the word as she stared into his twinkling eyes. She thought him in a surprisingly cheerful mood considering Lady Rosalind's anguish over her missing pets.

“Yes, helped by my daughter or--” Marsden stopped as the sounds of meowing emanated from behind a nearby haystack. He smiled and gestured for Karis to go before him. “As I suspected.”

They circled the fresh hay, discovering a large picnic basket with the lid securely fastened. Karis hurried forward and lifting the container, released the latch. “They are all here, but why would Lady Rosalind do such a thing.”

“I believe this was a ploy to get you to Whiteoaks. She thinks I can be tricked into hiring you as a governess. But she is sadly mistaken.”

Karis's heart plummeted. The kiss in the Great Hall had made him think her an improper companion for his child or any other for that matter. Who would hire a wanton as their child's governess?

Before she could order her dark thoughts, the marquess stepped forward as if he would take the basket, but instead he locked his hands over hers. The newly released kittens began to climb out and up her sleeve, but Karis paid scant attention as she gazed at the marquess's face so close to hers. There was such a burning look of intensity in his eyes, that she stood as if turned to stone even though inside she was melting like a snowflake on a warm hearth.

In a husky voice, the marquess said, “I don't want you as a governess, my love. I want you as my wife.”

Karis stood speechless uncertain her knees would hold her. The marquess loved her. By now all seven kittens had made good their escape from the basket, three climbing on her and four moving up the marquess's arms to his shoulder, hanging on with their sharp little claws, but neither took notice as their gazes locked.

They were jarred from their ardent absorption with one another when a daring black kitten tried to climb onto Karis's grey poke bonnet, causing the pair to laugh. Marsden plucked the adventurous felines from his lady love, then from himself and put them back in the basket, closing the lid. “Say that you would never be so cruel as to leave me alone with my mischief making daughter and a rambunctious litter of kittens. I love you, Karis. Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

Karis couldn't believe her good fortune. He loved her. “I would not be so cruel as to abandon you, my lord, for I adore the kittens, I adore your daughter and most of all I adore you. I will marry you.”

Taking the handle of the basket, the marquess removed it from between them, then encircled the lady's waist with his free arm and drew her to him, kissing her properly and deeply.

Releasing his love, the marquess smiled. “I had no idea when I brought my daughter to Warwickshire that I would have such a perfect Christmas.”

As the kittens began loudly meowing to be released from the basket, Karis laughed. “I think this will be a `purr-fect Christmas' for all concerned.”

The marquess lovingly drew her back to him. “Purr-fect, indeed.” Then his lips captured hers.

The now affianced couple were so lost in their embrace that neither noted two young ladies peeking around the stable door. After exchanging a startled glance, Lady Rosalind whispered, “Do you think it proper for Papa to be kissing my new governess?”

Anthea snorted. “Don't be silly. He would not kiss her so if he asked her to be your governess. You can be certain he asked her to marry him.”

The marquess's daughter beamed her delight. “Then we shall be like sisters.”

Satisfied with the results of their efforts, they turned and made their way back to the house arm-in-arm. Lady Rosalind said, “We are very good match-makers, are we not?”

“Yes, indeed.” A glint of amusement was in Anthea's hazel eyes. “Shall we try our luck again?”

“Who did you have in mind?”

Anthea ran the list of single females of her acquaintance through her mind and thought of her cousin Dorinda. She dismissed the lady at once, thinking she wouldn't wish that perfidious vixen on anyone. Besides, the girl would be in a rage when she learned of Karis's good fortune and not likely to be in the mood for romance. At last she suggested, “What say you to a match between Binx and Toby.”

“Toby! I was thinking Binx and Jock a superior match.”

“The coachman? Too old. Besides Toby is very handsome.”

The two young girls made their way back to the warmth of the nursery good naturedly arguing about their next victims, content with the knowledge that Christmas would be very merry at Whiteoaks.