He blinked in surprise. It was a little late to prevent their many stolen kisses.
“Summoning a chaperone?” he asked.
“Guards,” she replied. “I trust you, but I’ve never trusted Wednesdays.”
A hesitant maid appeared in the corridor and wrung her hands just outside the threshold. “Mrs. Weatherby said…”
“To let Mr. Middleton ravish me,” Priscilla concluded drily. “Duly noted. You can be dismissed if any bosoms start heaving. Meanwhile, he’s about to let the cat out of the bag. If it attacks Koffi… hit Mr. Middleton with a skillet.”
The maid sent her startled gaze toward Thad.
“Fair enough,” he assured her. “Mostly because I see you’ve forgotten your skillet.”
He sat down and removed the lid of the basket.
Wednesday immediately crawled up to the edge and sent delighted glances about the new foreign playground around her. She tumbled out of the basket with glee, rolling over to rub her spine against random spots on the carpet as if in search of the most comfortable corner in the room.
“It’s… a kitten,” the maid said.
“Her name is Wednesday,” Thad said with affection. “Very fierce. The sort who might murder hapless pigeons one day. But I’ve spoken to her very firmly about our peace treaty with African grey parrots, and she assures me she understands.”
“She’d better,” Priscilla said darkly, and unlocked Koffi’s cage.
He shot out at once, straight toward Wednesday, causing Thad to scramble to his feet in alarm.
Wednesday rolled onto her back and batted her little kitten paws in the air.
Startled, Koffi veered back up toward the ceiling in order to examine the newcomer from the safety of a curtain rod.
Having lost interest, Wednesday sprang upright and began prancing around the raised circular edge of the center carpet. Claws on wood. Paws on carpet. Claws on wood. Paws on carpet.
Stealthily, Koffi took another dive at the usurper.
Wednesday rolled to her back and batted a front paw in the air.
Koffi immediately changed course, choosing a different window on which to perch.
Wednesday started licking the closest bookshelf.
Priscilla looked at Thad.
He looked at her.
Koffi swooped in again, more flamboyantly this time.
Wednesday flipped over, her hindquarters propped up by a shelf and her head lolling on the floor. She batted a paw toward the air.
Koffi rose to perch on the closest window.
“I think they’re… playing?” the maid ventured.
“I think so, too.” Priscilla joined Thad on the settee. “Only you would have a kitten as friendly and lovable as you are.”
He paused in the act of putting an arm about her shoulder.
Love.
Although she’d clearly meant to compliment his kitten in an affectionate way rather than a romantic one, Thad’s feelings toward Priscilla were not nearly so sanguine.
