They reached the hall and looked around, eyeing the open area with gazes that evaluated, measured and assessed.
“The large sideboard here, d’you think?” Harriet walked to one side and gestured to the wall beneath a rather ugly tapestry.
Paul nodded. “If we do that, then a table can go here…” He walked to the corner, “which will give everyone room to move. And we’ll put the drinks trays on the other side away from the fireplace.”
“Excellent.” Harriet pointed to various spots. “Chairs, here…here…and here…” She marked it out in her mind. “Side tables, and still space to enjoy the fire.”
Paul stared at the enormous chunk of wood that filled the hearth. “Are you sure we’re not going to burn the place down?”
“I sincerely hope not,” she answered, hands on hips and head tilted to one side. “I think it might be able to move back a bit…”
Together they moved toward the fireplace and taking a stand on either side, manhandled the wood a little further into the fireplace.
Their movements were greeted with a howl of displeasure.
“Belle?” Harriet squeezed around a root and stared down. “What do you have there?”
Another meow answered her question.
“OhPaul.”
He sighed. “What now?”
She wriggled her way behind the log and bent down—to retrieve four tiny kittens. “We have new additions to our family.”
Emerging into the hall, with Belle at her side, she grinned at Paul over an armful of squirming babies. “What a clever girl our Belle is.”
He walked over and shook his head. “I can’t believe it, but I supposed I shouldn’t be surprised.”
Belle meowed and attempted to climb Harriet’s skirts. “Yes, darling. You shall have a nice warm box for your kittens…”
As she was about to carry the little family away, the front door opened and the returning hunters burst in with massive armfuls of greenery.
Phoebe and Hestia Tisdale promptly dropped theirs when they saw the kittens.
“Oh…oooh…look…”
“Oh…kittens…how too darling for words…”
Noting that they were, in spite of their dramatic enthusiasm, very gentle, Harriet made a snap decision. “They’re newborns, Miss Tisdale,” she said to Phoebe, the one in the dark pink. “I was about to find a warm place and a box for them…”
“Oh, may we please?” Phoebe looked at her with pleading eyes. “Hestia and I had several litters of kittens when we were younger. We love them so.”
A muffled snort from Paul indicated that he had heard that artless and confusing comment.
“If you’re sure they’ll be no trouble…”
“Not at all, here. Let me take them.” Hestia had unfolded her shawl from around her neck and held it out across her arms. “They’ll be warm and cozy here.” She glanced down. “And mama too.”
“Her name is Belle,” said Harriet. “Perhaps if you take the little ones with you, she will follow. They’ll be nursing for a little while yet.”
“We know. Several weeks at least,” nodded Phoebe. “We’ll take good care of them while we’re here, Mrs. Harry.”
“Very well.” Harriet gently deposited the little creatures in the soft shawl, and watched as Belle meowed her way around the Tisdales, following them upstairs.
“How many litters of kittens did they say they had?” A low voice whispered in her ear.
“Hush.” She didn’t look at him for fear she’d burst out laughing. “You know what she meant.”
