sick of schemes! I am tired of being vivacious, amusing, and unattainable. I
want
to be attained!” She covered her face with her hands and commenced to bawling.
Hecuba pulled Cat’s head onto her plump shoulder, patting her.
“It makes me so angry!” Cat sniffled. “All the plotting and planning and scheming. It’s so bloody much
work
making oneself agreeable to men!”
“Except with Thomas,” Hecuba said. Cat nodded.
“And yet, Aunt Hecuba, he’s the worst of the lot! He’s so attuned to all this ridiculous posturing that he can give lessons in it!”
Hecuba lifted Cat’s chin with a single finger and gazed steadily into her red, bleary eyes. “You must keep your pride, Catherine. It is ultimately all we are left with and therefore sacrosanct. Even if it needs be manufactured, it is essential. There now.” She patted Cat on top of the head again and shoved herself upright. “I’d better see how Fielding is mismanaging the ironing.”
She squinted down at Cat. “Leave off blubbering too, Cat,” she said curtly. “You always look horrid after you’ve cried. Your nose runs.”
A burble of laughter escaped Cat. Hecuba smiled and started for the door.
“Aunt Hecuba?” Cat called.
“Yes?”
“Your friend? The one with the unrequited attachment?”
“Yes?”
“Did she find a replacement for the unappreciative rake?”
Hecuba’s nose rose in the air. She sniffed.
“Many.”
Chapter 11
R esolving to put their relationship back on safe ground, Thomas headed for the anterooms of the hotel, looking for Cat. She was not in her suite, though Hecuba and the maid were. Hecuba’s answer to his query as to her whereabouts was terse.
“Though she was not gravely injured, I instructed her to rest. The girl never listens to me, though. She has taken herself off somewhere to pout. Fielding here,” Hecuba tilted her black-turbaned head in the maid’s direction, “has strapped up her ankle so she won’t be very quick on her feet, Montrose. You should be able to run her to ground easily enough. Any more than that, I will not say.”
“Fielding,” Thomas said in exasperation, “where is Lady Catherine?”
The maid looked disapprovingly at him. “Why?”
“Cat is right,” Thomas muttered. “I have been far too lenient in my expectations of my staff. ‘Why,’ Fielding? Because I wish to have my way with her, or perhaps to beat her, or merely to devour her.
Now where is she?
”
Fielding’s mouth dropped open. She had never seen Master Montrose lose his temper before. While she suspected there was more aggravation than anger in it, it was still a formidable sight.
She hastily sought to recoup her situation. It was a good position she had in Mr. Montrose’s household, even in spite of Mrs. Medge.
Hecuba patted the maid’s hand consolingly. “He’s a wicked man, m’dear, evil black-eyed womanizer that he is. I shouldn’t answer if I were you.”
“Fielding…” Thomas ground out.
“She went to the conservatory, sir. Sorry I am for my impertinence, sir. I’m hoping you’ll mark it down as the sap-skulled rattling of a feeble mind under the influence of,” here Fielding paused and narrowed her eyes on Hecuba, still patting her arm, “her betters.” But before she had finished the sentence, Thomas had strode from the room.
In answer to Thomas’s inquiries, a porter directed him to the conservatory at the east end of the hotel. He stepped from the dark hallway into the sunlit expanse of a greenhouse. Someone had transformed the alley behind the hotel into a glass-encased fantasy. Brick paths wound between tall palms and fig trees. A miniature brook gurgled in its diminutive bed before disappearing under dense ferns. Sun filtered in from between the lacy tapestry of vines hanging high overhead.
His entry amongst the lush green vegetation was masked by the sound of running water so that he spied Cat before she was aware of him. She was studying some flowering bromeliads.
want
to be attained!” She covered her face with her hands and commenced to bawling.
Hecuba pulled Cat’s head onto her plump shoulder, patting her.
“It makes me so angry!” Cat sniffled. “All the plotting and planning and scheming. It’s so bloody much
work
making oneself agreeable to men!”
“Except with Thomas,” Hecuba said. Cat nodded.
“And yet, Aunt Hecuba, he’s the worst of the lot! He’s so attuned to all this ridiculous posturing that he can give lessons in it!”
Hecuba lifted Cat’s chin with a single finger and gazed steadily into her red, bleary eyes. “You must keep your pride, Catherine. It is ultimately all we are left with and therefore sacrosanct. Even if it needs be manufactured, it is essential. There now.” She patted Cat on top of the head again and shoved herself upright. “I’d better see how Fielding is mismanaging the ironing.”
She squinted down at Cat. “Leave off blubbering too, Cat,” she said curtly. “You always look horrid after you’ve cried. Your nose runs.”
A burble of laughter escaped Cat. Hecuba smiled and started for the door.
“Aunt Hecuba?” Cat called.
“Yes?”
“Your friend? The one with the unrequited attachment?”
“Yes?”
“Did she find a replacement for the unappreciative rake?”
Hecuba’s nose rose in the air. She sniffed.
“Many.”
Chapter 11
R esolving to put their relationship back on safe ground, Thomas headed for the anterooms of the hotel, looking for Cat. She was not in her suite, though Hecuba and the maid were. Hecuba’s answer to his query as to her whereabouts was terse.
“Though she was not gravely injured, I instructed her to rest. The girl never listens to me, though. She has taken herself off somewhere to pout. Fielding here,” Hecuba tilted her black-turbaned head in the maid’s direction, “has strapped up her ankle so she won’t be very quick on her feet, Montrose. You should be able to run her to ground easily enough. Any more than that, I will not say.”
“Fielding,” Thomas said in exasperation, “where is Lady Catherine?”
The maid looked disapprovingly at him. “Why?”
“Cat is right,” Thomas muttered. “I have been far too lenient in my expectations of my staff. ‘Why,’ Fielding? Because I wish to have my way with her, or perhaps to beat her, or merely to devour her.
Now where is she?
”
Fielding’s mouth dropped open. She had never seen Master Montrose lose his temper before. While she suspected there was more aggravation than anger in it, it was still a formidable sight.
She hastily sought to recoup her situation. It was a good position she had in Mr. Montrose’s household, even in spite of Mrs. Medge.
Hecuba patted the maid’s hand consolingly. “He’s a wicked man, m’dear, evil black-eyed womanizer that he is. I shouldn’t answer if I were you.”
“Fielding…” Thomas ground out.
“She went to the conservatory, sir. Sorry I am for my impertinence, sir. I’m hoping you’ll mark it down as the sap-skulled rattling of a feeble mind under the influence of,” here Fielding paused and narrowed her eyes on Hecuba, still patting her arm, “her betters.” But before she had finished the sentence, Thomas had strode from the room.
In answer to Thomas’s inquiries, a porter directed him to the conservatory at the east end of the hotel. He stepped from the dark hallway into the sunlit expanse of a greenhouse. Someone had transformed the alley behind the hotel into a glass-encased fantasy. Brick paths wound between tall palms and fig trees. A miniature brook gurgled in its diminutive bed before disappearing under dense ferns. Sun filtered in from between the lacy tapestry of vines hanging high overhead.
His entry amongst the lush green vegetation was masked by the sound of running water so that he spied Cat before she was aware of him. She was studying some flowering bromeliads.
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