Anita Mills Read Online Free Page A

engaged in gingerly disentangling his glove from Abelard’s teeth and claws. Grinning ruefully, he looked up as she rounded the first landing.
    “There you are, Harry. Do you think you could possibly retrieve this beast before he ruins ten pounds?”
    “Ten pounds? How can that be?” she asked with a faint lift to an eyebrow. “Surely you cannot have spent that much on a pair of gloves.”
    But as she came off the last step, he could see the twitch at the corners of her mouth as she tried hard not to laugh. “I fail to see what amuses you,” he muttered with feeling. “I had scarce crossed the threshold when this animal was literally thrown onto my arm, Harry. Ouch, you little devil!” He paused to remove his blue superfine coat sleeve from the kitten’s teeth, but Abelard had now managed to cling to his forearm from beneath, hanging firmly by all four feet. “I didn’t wish to harm it, of course, but I am less than fond of cats—even yours,” he complained. “Otherwise, I should have thrown it to the floor.”
    Unsympathetic to his plight, Harriet failed to suppress her laughter and dissolved in tο an outright giggle. Her dark eyes sparkling, she reached for Abelard. “Oh, Richard, I never thought I should see it—Richard Standen treed by a cat, of all things, and a helpless k-kitten at that!” Her slender fingers gently lifted the black furball from the coat sleeve, disengaging its small claws carefully. “Oh, dear, some of the threads are quite pulled, I fear.”
    “Thank you. And I was not ’treed,’ precisely,” he retorted. “I told you—I didn’t want to hurt it or the coat. But I take leave to tell you that I think your father is more than a trifle touched in his upper works these days, Harry,” he fumed. “He dropped that thing on me and then just walked off, saying something about my wanting cats.”
    “Oh.” She flushed guiltily and dropped her head as she rubbed the fluffy fur behind the kitten’s ears. Her voice regretful, her face averted, she admitted, “Yes … well, I fear some of the fault is mine, you see.” Then, daring to meet his blue eyes, she plunged into an explanation. “Well, I was afraid they would demand to see your letter, and I could think of no plausible reason why you should be writing to me, Richard, so I said you were inquiring about a cat—or, to be more precise, that you were wishful of a kitten.”
    “You told them I wanted a cat ? Whatever for? Could you not have said I just wanted to write a letter to you? Harry—” He stopped short, noting that the animation had left her face and her eyes, and his voice dropped as he added more kindly, “Harry, you should not have to explain anything so insignificant as a letter to anyone.”
    “Tell Hannah that,” she responded bitterly, looking away again. “You cannot know how it is to have to answer for every single thing, can you? You are a man, after all, and therefore free to do as you please, so you cannot understand. Well, I am not allowed to have my own opinions, my own friends … or … or kittens even!” Tears welled in her eyes, brightening them, before she hastily rubbed the wetness away.
    “Egad! I’d no notion, of course—I mean, I knew it could not be very comfortable for you with my aunt, but I thought…”
    “You are a man, Richard,” she repeated. “You do not have to answer to the conventions of society, to a stepmama like Hannah, or to—”
    “Can you not just leave?” He caught himself, realizing she spoke the truth, that it was different for a female. “Surely Uncle John—”
    A harsh, derisive, brittle laugh escaped her. “My father? You jest, of course. He takes her side in even the smallest struggles between us. If aught can be said of Sir John Rowe, sir, ’tis that he prizes peace above all things.”
    “I’m sorry, Harry.”
    She regained her composure by nuzzling the purring kitten with her cheek, and then she did the unthinkable—she sniffed. “Your pardon, my