Page 35 of A Virgin to Tempt the Duke

“He has a talent,” Anna said, “for inserting himself into situations.”

“He has been practicing it for four years.” Frederick set down the book. “He arrived in a similar fashion, as it happens. There was a dinner at Rathbourne Hall in November, when I was last in residence. A visiting family, some friends of a friend, an overnight stay, the usual. They had four children. Somewhere between supper and the carriage being brought round, a small cat appeared from the direction of the stable yard. No one could explain it.”

Anna had not left. She was standing in the doorway now, her shoulder resting against the frame. Listening.

“He was perhaps six weeks old,” Frederick said as he ran a hand over his beard. “Thin, and certain of himself. He walked through the front door, crossed the entrance hall, and sat down in front of the fireplace in the drawing room as if the house had been built for the purpose of accommodating him alone.”

“What did you do?” She asked, a smile across her delicate face.

“I told the butler to remove him.” A pause. “Simmons made the attempt.”

Anna’s mouth curved into a bigger smile. “It did not go well.”

“The cat evaded capture for forty minutes.” Frederick looked at Percy. “The family left. The cat remained. I was told he had settled into the linen cupboard, and would require firm handling.” He reached out and ran one knuckle along the curve of Percy’s head, which Percy permitted. “He has been here since.”

“He chose you,” Anna said. “You know this, right?”

Frederick did not quite know what to say to that.

“He chose the warmth and the roast chicken,” he settled on.

“Perhaps, perhaps not,” she said. She was still looking at the cat, and her voice was quieter now. “Some creatures know the right place when they find it… even if they have to sneak in uninvited to discover it.”

A brief silence. He was aware she might not be speaking entirely about Percy, which made his heartbeat race.

As if to settle the matter, Percy stood, stretched dramatically as cats do, and stepped off the bed. He crossed the room with unhurried purpose, stopping at the doorway where Anna stood.

He did not rub against her leg. He did not give any greeting at all. He simply stopped and lowered his nose to the hem of her dress, and stood there, ears forward.

Anna went very still. She did not reach for him. He lifted his head and looked at her and then turned and walked back into the room. He jumped back onto the bed and settled on top of the eiderdown.

“That,” Frederick said, “is significant.”

“Is it?”

“He does not approach people.” He looked at his cat, who had begun to wash his face again with the air of a creature who had done something meaningful and wished no fuss made about it. “You must have made an impression.”

Anna looked at the cat for a moment. A flush of pride warmed her chest at having drawn in such a particular creature, but she suppressed it just as quickly, her emotions guarded carefully like cards held close.

“Goodnight, Your Grace,” she said.

“Goodnight, Miss Cartwell.”

She went down the corridor. He listened to her footsteps as they receded. He looked at Percy, and he looked back.

“Say nothing,” Frederick said, and Percy closed his eyes. “Good boy.”

Thomas arrived the following afternoon at two o’clock without advance notice, but in good humor and with enough energy to make the drawing room feel fuller than it was. He shook Frederick’s hand and kissed Rachel’s cheek.

“You look most well, Lady Rachel,” he said, which she returned with the sisterly courtesy she extended to Frederick’s oldest friends, and then he turned to Anna.

He had told Thomas something of the situation from Derbyshire. He had not told him everything. He was not concerned. He was observing, because Thomas was Thomas, and it was sensible to observe. Still, Frederick watched him carefully, not realizing how tightly his fists were coiled by his sides as his eyes drifted to Anna.

“Miss Cartwell,” Thomas said, with the ease of a man who was at home in every room he entered. He gave a short bow. “Allow me to introduce myself properly. I am Thomas Ellery, Marquess of Larthby. Frederick’s better judgment, when he will let me be.”

Anna curtsied. Her face was polite and pleasant and, Frederick noted, entirely composed. She had the look she sometimes produced when reading situations carefully before committing to them. “My lord,” she said.

“A pleasure, truly.” He settled into the chair across from the sofa. “I hope you will forgive the irregular introduction. I know the circumstances are not quite what anyone would have chosen, but I want you to know that whatever Frederick has asked me to do in this matter, I have done and will continue to do with your interests as the first concern.”