Her brother pouted by the window. “I wish I could have gone with you instead of being stuck here. It is impossible to get anything done in this weather.”
Wickham aside, the company was far superior at Longbourn than here, but Richard had teased Miss Bingley enough. He could not in good form insult his hostess by agreeing with her brother.
Tickling his furry friend under the chin, Richard set the kitten down on the floor. “Go explore, Little Crusoe,” Richard said under his breath.
Too curious to waste time lamenting the loss of its elevated seat, the little explorer set his sights on the large Palladian windows Miss Bingley had decorated in garish extravagance. Blue and lilac taffeta curtains trimmed liberally with gold-colored trimmings, tassels, and fringes—the perfect playground for a climber to test his claws and reach glorious new heights.
Serafina sauntered into the room, followed by the rest of her litter. Georgiana scooped her up in her arms. “May they stay for a few minutes, Miss Bingley?”
“Of course, my dear! I have always said there is no finer pet than a cat, have I not, Louisa?”
Mrs. Hurst dutifully agreed.
“How much sooner one tires of a dog than a feline,” Miss Bingley continued. “When I have a house of my own, I shall be miserable if I do not have the companionship of a cat like Serafina and her adorable kittens.”
Georgiana’s face lit up with pleasure. “It would please me more than anything to gift you one of them. You may have your pick of the litter.”
Except for Angelina, Richard thought, hoping Georgiana remembered that she was already promised to Miss Lydia.
“You are too generous! I could not possibly presume to accept when I know how precious they are to you.”
“Oh, but you are one of my dearest friends!” Georgiana insisted.
Richard grimaced. He had feared this outcome.
Puffing up like a peacock at the compliment, Miss Bingley fluttered her fingers over her heart. “I am flattered, but pray address me as Caro as all my intimate friends do.”
Of course, Georgiana insisted that Miss Bingley use her Christian name.
All the avowed friendship in the room threatened to sour Richard’s mood.
A flicker of movement behind Miss Bingley caught his eye. The next moment, before he or anyone else could intervene, two paws batted at her bandeau in a fight worthy of the boxer’s ring. The prize: two long, colorful feathers. The contender: one white kitten with a hat-shaped splotch on his head.
Miss Bingley waved her hands and screeched. Had she held still, she might have fared better.
Bingley pulled the Mighty Hunter off his sister’s head, the kitten taking one feather with him and leaving the other dangling broken from Miss Bingley’s mangled headpiece.
Wrapping his arms around the cat, Bingley hid behind the creature, disguising his laughter behind poorly disguised coughs and an occasional half-hearted reprimand. “That was awfully rude of you. Your mother looks distressed.”
Serafina did not, in fact, look distressed. Richard could not claim the ability to read an animal’s mind, but he would bet that she was rather proud of her son’s improving hunting skills.
A cry from the decorated window pulled Richard away from the diverting scene and spotted Crusoe stuck on top of a gilt-carved rosette. The little bugger had climbed higher than Richard could reach.
Darcy, quick to react, pulled a chair closer to the window sash, but it was Richard who climbed atop it to rescue his pal. Stretching to the tips of his toes, he coaxed the kitten onto his arm. With all the practice it had balancing on Richard’s shoulders of late, this was no trouble for the daring puss.
Heart calming to a normal rhythm, Richard stepped onto the floor, the precious cargo safe in his arms.
“Grandmama’s vase!” cried Mrs. Hurst.
Darcy leaped back across the room in four long strides, just in time to catch the vase the feline butler had pushed off the ledge. Lifting the black kitten by its scruff, Darcy removed the perpetrator from the table before it could attempt to break any more heirlooms.
“That was close,” Bingley observed.
A collective sigh of relief pervaded the room. Who knew how disruptive the tiny creatures could be?
Richard stroked Crusoe’s fur, watching as Bingley attempted to soothe his sisters as well as the kitten who was fascinated with feathers. Darcy, too, cradled the cantankerous black and white cat against his coat, letting the kitten settle on his lap when he took a seat.
What a laughable picture they made! Three gentlemen indulging the whims of three pocket-sized troublemakers.
