Page 62 of From Rakes to Riches

She was doing her best to look serious, but he had no trouble reading the look in her eyes. Amusement. She waslaughingat him. “I don’t believe you think it’s sad at all, Miss Templeton. I think you find it all quite entertaining.”

“It’s just that I can’t help but wonder, my lord, why a man with such a virulent hatred of felines would visit the stables every morning to check on a cat he surely despises, and bring her treats in the first place.”

“I didn’t do it for the cat?—”

“Hecate. Her name is Hecate.”

“Very well, then. I didn’t do it for Hecate.” Though if he everweregoing to befriend a cat, it would be that one. She was a greedy opportunist, just as he’d said, but he couldn’t help but admire the creature’s pluck.

“Ah. Who, then?”

“The boys.”

She already knew it, of course. She’d guessed it days ago, but naturally she wouldn’t rest until she’d made him confess everything to her. If ever there was a lady for poking about in things that didn’t concern her, it was this one. “They seem fond of her, and they’ll be heartbroken if anything happens to her, so I’m making sure nothing does.”

“But that’s lovely, Lord Hawke. I don’t know why you’d want to make a secret of it.”

It was a simple question, but the answer was complicated. So much so that even he wasn’t sure he understood it all, so he said nothing.

“You will join us for feline husbandry today, won’t you, Lord Hawke? Just think, Hecate could be giving birth at this very moment. You wouldn’t want to miss it, would you?”

“Nonsense. It’s only the fifty-seventh day of Hecate’s gestational cycle. According to your charts, she’s still six days shy of the period she’s most likely to give birth.”

Her jaw dropped open. “You consulted the charts?”

“I might have glanced at it.”

She raised an eyebrow, and he blew out a breath. “Oh, very well, I consulted the charts, but only because they were right there, pinned to the stable wall. I wonder who put them there?” He reached around her and opened the stable door with a tug. “Come on, then. If we’re going to go, let’s go.”

She followed him, rubbing her hands together. “I do hope Hecate wasn’t cold last night. It was quite bitter when I came out this morning, and remains so, despite the sunshine.”

“She wasn’t cold, I assure you.” He sighed. Was a man permitted no secrets? “Hecate has my coat. I wrapped it around her before I went to bed last night.”

She laughed again, and he turned to gaze at her as the sweet sound echoed in the frosty morning, warming him from the inside out. She had a lovely laugh, bright and joyous. It was the sort of laugh that lured a smile to the face of anyone who happened to be near her, the sort of laugh one wanted to hear again and again.

“It’s just as well you’re coming in today, my lord. I daresay Hecate would be dreadfully put out if she discovered you’d passed by the stables without paying homage to her.”

“I wouldn’t dream of disappointing Hecate.” He’d missed feline husbandry lessons yesterday, and he wouldn’t make that mistake again. “Lead on, Miss Templeton.”

“We’ll have to hurry through it, I’m afraid,” she was saying as they joined the boys by the pen. “It’s only a few hours until the decorating committee arrives, and the boys still need their luncheon?—”

“The decorating committee! What, are they coming heretoday?”

“Why, yes, this afternoon. You agreed to it at the meeting just now.” She turned to face him, her lips twitching. “Oh, dear. You weren’t listening to a word Lady Goodall said, were you?”

“Not as attentively as I should have been, it seems.” Fortunately, just as he’d expected, there was no shortage of ladies eager to tell him what to do.

By the timeHawke’s Run’s iron-studded doors closed behind the ladies of the Benevolent Society’s decorating committee laterthat evening, Adrian’s ears were ringing, and his fingers ached from the effort it had taken not to wring Lady Codswaddle’s neck.

Lady Anne had tried to warn him.

It was astonishing, the unrelenting chaos a mere dozen ladies could cause. They’d poked their inquisitive little noses into every nook and cranny of the castle. Not a single corner from the entryway to the ballroom escaped their notice, and from the discussions he’d overheard, every inch of it was doomed to be draped with holiday finery. How they’d produce enough ribbons and baubles to blanket every inch of Hawke’s Run he couldn’t say, but he’d wager his one remaining Hessian boot they’d find a way.

The afternoon had gone on far longer than any of them had anticipated it would. Ryan and Etienne had fled as soon as they saw the contingent of ladies bearing down on them, and had long since had their tea and escaped to their bedchamber.

He wanted nothing more than to do the same, but before he could drag himself up the stairs, order that a bath and a tray be brought to his room and spend the rest of the evening recovering from the assault on his senses, he had one small matter to see to first.

A small matter with red lips, blue-gray eyes, and a laugh like Christmas itself.

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