Anita Mills Read Online Free Page B

lord—’twas not my intent to burden you with my small problems. ’Tis just that I am blue-deviled, but no matter—I shall come about.”
    “Harry … Harry …” He reached a comforting hand to clasp the hand that held the kitten. “I have known you since I was in short coats and you were but a scrubby little girl in a torn gown—remember that?”
    Recovering, she nodded, and a faint smile curved her mouth. “Yes, and I recall that it was because of you that I tore it—I tried to tell you that Papa’s bull was mean.”
    “That’s better. I like it when you display at least some spirit. We are partners, after all, are we not? If there’s aught that I can do to ease your circumstances, you have but to ask, you know.”
    She hesitated, turning her attention once again to the kitten in her arms, and then sighed. “All right—but you will not like the answer, I fear.” Sucking in her breath, she raised her dark eyes to his, and it was impossible to miss the appeal in them. “Then would you be so very kind as to take my cats? Oh, I know you think you would not like having the kittens, but perhaps you could learn—I mean, if you do not say you will take them, Hannah means to have them drowned.” Her voice, hesitant at first, rushed to finish her plea before he could deny what she asked. “Richard, I beg of you—do not let her kill poor innocent creatures! Say you will help me!”
    He was taken aback by the urgency of her entreaty, and for a moment he was at a loss for words. “Me?” he choked finally. “Harry, I have just told you—I don’t like cats!”
    “Please, Richard—please,” she wheedled, tears welling anew. “Even if you will do no more than take them to your hunting box or to your country home, they will at least have more of a chance than if they are put in a sack and dropped in the river. Richard—”
    “Tell you what,” he interrupted desperately, “I’ll speak with Aunt Hannah myself, and—”
    “No!” She clutched at his sleeve, her voice growing more agitated. “You still don’t understand, do you? Even if she says she will let them live, ’tis but for now. You see, she knows—she knows now what they mean to me and she will use them whenever she is vexed. And if I do not take Mr. Thornton’s offer, they will be drowned!”
    “Come on, Harry—I did not come to have you enact a Cheltenham tragedy for me.” Gently disengaging her fingers from his arm, he clasped her hand reassuringly. “It cannot be as bad as all that—ten to one, she will have forgotten all about the damned … the deuced cats, ere tomorrow. If you will but keep them out of her sight—”
    She made one last bid. “Richard, I will consider the loan repaid if you will but do as I ask.”
    “No! Dash it, Harry! I’d as lief pay you a cent per cent’s interest as take a cat! No, I tell you!”
    She swallowed hard to fight the lump that rose in her throat, and tried to regain her dignity. “Very well then. I should not have asked it of you.” Clutching the black furball close, she managed to whisper, “If you will but excuse me, I… I’ve matters to attend just now.”
    And before he could stop her, she’d fled up the stairs. Richard stared after her, feeling somehow guilty. “I say, Harry … but…” But she’d already turned the corner at the top of the steps and was out of hearing. He looked down at the pulled threads on his sleeve and reminded himself just how much he hated cats. And a sense of injustice stole over him; he’d traveled miles out of his way to tell her about Two Harry, and she had not bothered to ask of the horse at all.
    In keeping with the parsimony of Hannah, Lady Rowe, Sir John’s table was remarkable only for its limited selection. Richard Standen, seated at the opposite end from his host, surveyed the single joint of meat, the plain roast goose, and the three dishes of vegetables, and wondered why he’d bothered coming all the way to Rowe’s Hill. To make matters