The woman paid no attention to her improbably obedient pet, as though she took it as a matter of course that all cats should respond without question to their masters’ commands.
Instead, she scrambled over the hill of snow lining the road. With a tender look upon her face, she, too, dropped to her haunches and disappeared completely out of sight.
Rapt, Theo rolled his chair closer to the window.
Moments later, the woman rose to her feet with aching slowness, her leather gloves cupped together to protect a tiny puff of feathers. A baby bird. She tilted her head back and craned her face up toward the branches overhead. Theo’s heart skipped in trepidation.
She would not attempt to climb a tree. Shewouldnotattempt to climb a tree.
She was absolutely going to climb the tree.
Chapter 2
Miss Virginia Underwood and “Duke,” her cherished cat and faithful companion, were strolling through Christmas on their afternoon constitutional when Virginia spied the tiny orange feet of a baby redwing poking up from a snowbank.
Oldest friend or not, Duke was first and foremost a cat, and a proficient one at that. Which meant he was quite adept at pouncing upon anything that resembled prey. Under normal circumstances, Virginia allowed—nay,encouraged—her cat to behave as catlike as he pleased. She did not believe any living thing should be prevented from the pursuit of happiness.
Except in the case of animals in need. Hurt creatures deserved to be helped.
Ever since she’d come to Christmas, Virginia had been unable to resist adopting strays and nursing wounded beasts back to health. Once her beloved patients were released back into the wild… well, nature could do whatever nature would do. But for as long as she was in control, baby birds like this one would be free to live another day.
After depositing the chick back into its nest, Virginia dropped down from the tree and brushed the debris from her gloves and person as best she could.
Her bonnet had gone askew and her freshly pressed coat was wrinkled, but what did it matter? Christmas was the furthest haven in England from the disapproving glares of beau monde grand dames and other such exacting personages. Just like her cat, here Virginia was free to be as Virginia-like as she pleased.
Unlike her cat, Virginia had not suddenly disappeared.
“Duke,” she whispered.
He did not respond.
“Duke,” she called a little louder.
Nothing.
She sent a suspicious glance up the tree. No sign of Duke there, either. Nor did his paw-prints lead in this direction.
In fact, it appeared as though he had set off in the direction of… the Duke of Azureford’s cottage. Every one of the wide glass windows were inexplicably cranked open, despite the falling snow and winter chill.
Just as Virginia could not resist adopting strays, her cat could not resist the temptation of a beckoning window.
She dashed across the street. Little paw-prints in the snow led past the appropriately closed front door to just below the sill of a ridiculously gaping window. There the trail stopped.
The naughty beast had invited himself inside.
With a sigh, Virginia presented herself at the main door. She did her best to summon a winning smile when the butler answered her knock.
Swinton neither smiled nor frowned at discovering her upon the front step. “Good afternoon, Miss Underwood. How may I be of service?”
Virginia’s smile fell. It probably wasn’t doing her any favors. The back of her neck heated in response to the confession she was about to make.
“You have an unexpected visitor,” she admitted.
“How do you know?”
“I followed his tracks.” She motioned around the corner. “I think he went through that window.”
Swinton blinked. “He left through the window?”
