"Thank you, Henson," James told his solicitor. "I'll be in touch if I have any questions about anything we've discussed today."
Henson got to his feet. "I have all the signatures I need from you," he said. "As far as I'm concerned, you and I have no need to meet again—so I'll expect to hear from you only if any concerns arise on your end. But you should feel free to contact me at any time if that does happen."
"I understand," James said. "You've always been so helpful, Henson, and I continue to be grateful for your services. I'll send payment along to your office very soon."
Henson nodded his gratitude. "I can show myself out," he said. "Have a wonderful day, Your Grace."
He left, and James stretched and let out a long sigh, grateful to be finished for the day.
It had been a long one, with an inordinate amount of work to be done, and the meeting with his solicitor had gone on for much longer than he had liked. James did like and appreciate Henson, but he also found the work they did together unbearably tedious. He was grateful to have seen the back of the man. Now at least he would be able to focus on things that were more enjoyable to him.
A nice warm bath, perhaps—that would be just the thing He could pour himself a drink to take with him, and relax with a book. The evening was his to do with what he would. The thought made him smile warmly.
But then he felt something brush up against his leg.
Startled, he leapt to his feet. Could his new home be infested by rodents? That would be appalling but, all things considered, he wasn't sure it would surprise him to learn that the dowager duchess had not arranged for any sort of upkeep on the place while she had been in charge of it. She didn't seem a very responsible sort.
He looked down, feeling extremely wary of what he might see.
A large orange cat stared balefully back up at him. By its expression, James thought the cat was resentful to find a stranger in its way.
"Shoo," he told it, drawing back.
The cat remained where it was and simply stared at him.
James couldn't help feeling shaken. Though he was glad he wasn't dealing with some worse vermin, the discovery of a strange animal in his new home was still off-putting, to say the very least. What did one do in a situation like this? He would have to capture it and put it outside—but what if the beast attacked? He had no idea what a wild cat might do.
Fortune favored him at that moment. There was a knock at the door. "Come in," James said.
It was the butler, Maxwell. He had been a part of the household staff when James had arrived, and James had decided not to make too many replacements when it came to staff—there was no reason to put people out of work, as long as they didn't prove to be difficult or unpleasant to have around. Maxwell had been satisfactory so far. He had greeted James professionally and had answered all of his questions about the place. "Good evening, Your Grace," he said now. "I wondered if you were planning to come down to dinner."
This was a reasonable question. Over the course of the past few days, the dowager duchess had made it clear that she did not plan to be reliable about attending meals, and that fact had made James feel there was no need for him to be steady about his attendance either. He could have ordered her to the table, of course, but that would have turned into a battle of wills that quite frankly would have been a waste of his time and energy. If this was what she wanted to do with herself, that was her affair.As a consequence, he had begun to take several of his meals here in the study so that he could work without interruption.
But today, food was the furthest thing from his mind. "Maxwell," he said, gesturing to the cat. "There's a wild beast here in the house. I don't know what you have been doing—your job is to maintain this place. This is unacceptable."
"Your Grace," Maxwell began.
James held up a hand. "I really don't want to hear excuses," he said. "I've been generous with you, Maxwell. I expect you to remember that. I did not have to allow you to keep this job, and I still don't have to. I could dismiss you at any time."
"Of course, Your Grace," Maxwell said quickly. "You know that I—the whole staff—we're all deeply grateful that you chose to let us continue on, and we want to do whatever we can to make your transition her a smooth and comfortable one."
"All I ask of you is that you do your job. And that job includes preventing pests from entering my home! Please put it outside. And I'd like the staff to make an immediate sweep of the remainder of the house to make sure there are no more strange animals in here."
"Oh," Maxwell said. He strode forward without hesitation and scooped the cat into his arms.
James' eyes widened. "I would be careful," he said. "You don't know if the animal is violent or not."
"No, Your Grace," Maxwell said. "Forgive the misunderstanding—this is Hades."
"This iswhat?"
"The cat's name is Hades. He belongs to the dowager duchess."
"She has a cat?" He frowned. "Who would name a catHades? That isn't a name for a cat."
"She has two cats," Maxwell said. "Hades is the bolder of the two—you would nearly think he was the Duke of Stormwell the way he marches about the place sometimes as if it belongs to him. I'm surprised you haven't crossed paths with him before now."
"You say she hastwocats? There have been two cats living in the house all this time and I've never seen either one of them?"
