He rolled his chair over to shoo the cat away. After wrapping the ice in a cloth, he pressed it to his knee.
Duke glared up at him balefully, no doubt plotting his revenge. When Theo least expected, the stealthy beast would spring from some darkened hiding spot and lave his rough tongue across the back of Theo’s ankle or the lobe of Theo’s ear or whatever other terrifying spot Duke found amusing to dampen with cat saliva.
“Don’t even think about it,” Theo warned. “Behave. We’re stuck together.”
It was true enough. Throughout his life, Theo had prided himself on never having broken a promise. His word was very much his bond. He was careful not to give it if there was the slightest doubt of following through. Honor could not be broken.
Although he had taken care to make no promises with regard to tolerating Virginia’s intolerable cat, he could not bring himself to treat the beast with any less respect than the creature expected from his mistress. Not out of any particular affection for the misanthropic Duke, but because Theo did not wish to disappoint Virginia. Even if she would never know.
The bowl that had held the ice now only contained a small quantity of cold water.
“Very well.” Theo lifted the porcelain dish from the side table and scooted it across the carpet toward the cat. “Ice for me, water for the duke.”
Rather than graciously accept this offering, Duke extended his claws and hissed. Eyes glinting at Theo, Duke bared his teeth for an extended moment and then fled the room as if the devil himself had given chase.
“Bloody cat really does know his name,” Theo muttered. The teeth-baring hiss was an impressive trick by itself, but the extra second Duke paused to gloat before running away elevated the insult to a masterful level.
Swinton appeared in the open doorway. “Mr. T, you have a guest. Shall I show her to your private parlor or the front drawing room?”
Theo glanced up with interest. “Is it Miss Underwood?”
“Calling cards are on the dish in the main drawing room,” Swinton replied noncommittally.
Theo sent him a flat look. “Can’t you just tell me?”
“Would you like me to fetch the card for you?”
“You are the butler,” Theo reminded him. “Your job is to present me with guests’ calling cards, or at the very least inform me of their names.”
“My job is to do so for the Duke of Azureford.” Swinton reached into an inner pocket and displayed the edge of his master’s letter. “You, sir, don’t even have a proper name.”
Theo hiccupped at the reminder. Here, he wasn’t Lord Ormondton. He was Mr. T.
Outranked by a butler.
“Why doesn’t Azureford sack you?” he muttered.
Swinton raised his brows. “A wise master never sacks a man who recalls seeing him in nappies.”
Theo snorted. He now suspected unmasking himself as a peer of the realm wouldn’t give him the least advantage with Swinton.
“Do not let anyone in until I see their card,” Theo said firmly.
He wheeled himself out of his shadowed chambers and down the corridor to the main drawing room. The silver platter meant to collect calling cards was in its promised spot upon the mantel. He rolled over to pull the dish into his lap.
All four of the cards were identical, which meant Virginia had presented one on every visit, despite the staff clearly knowing her well.
That was not the strange part.
Theo’s brow furrowed as he picked up the topmost card. The thick, white rectangle was blank, save for the black silhouette of a single bird.
He flipped it over. Nothing on the other side. No names, no words of any kind. Just the featureless outline of a small bird. Frowning, he flipped over all the cards. Four black birds; nothing else.
Theo kept the cards and placed the dish back upon the mantel. “Please inform Miss Underwood—”
Soft footsteps sounded as Virginia swept into the room, a wicker basket dangling from one hand.
Apparently, Swinton had takenDon’t show anyone in until I see their cardliterally. Theo had seen the card. Now the guest was in.
