Ashley blinked. “Cats?”
“One tiny kitten,” Maddie clarified, pushing herself up against the pillows. “Paisley brought them in from the stables.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. But I think she hid a kitten under her apron and dusted the room so I’d breathe in cat hair. Paisley put her up to it.”
The shock on Ashley’s face turned to outrage. “He what? Everyone knows you can’t be near cats!”
“I don’t think he cares about my safety,” Maddie murmured.Consider him the last person I’d ever wed!
Ashley’s jaw set. “Oh, he knows. That was deliberate.” She reached over, taking Maddie’s hand. “You poor thing. No wonder you swooned.”
Maddie managed a faint smile. “I didn’t swoon.”
“You nearly collapsed,” Ashley countered, her eyes softening. “Thank goodness Sebastian was here. And in his condition, what a hero.”
Maddie looked down at her lap, unwilling to admit just how grateful she’d been for his steady presence.
“Where are the cats now? Did he bring the little white ones? They are only two weeks old!”
“All I know is that Paisley brought them in from the stables. I didn’t even see them at first, but the moment I started feeling that—” she gestured vaguely to her chest “—it all made sense.”
Ashley’s lips thinned. “What a bore with a title.”
Maddie gave a small, wry smile. “Apparently.”
“Oh, he’s no good, Maddie. When will you realize that you can do better?” Ashley said darkly. “You’d best steer clear of him entirely.”
Maddie didn’t disagree. Still, in the back of her mind, she couldn’tshake the image of Sebastian—standing watch in her doorway, ready to chase away anyone who dared come near.
*
After Sebastian hadseen the kitten safely returned to its mother—no small feat with Paisley lurking about—he found himself in need of a drink. Something strong. Anything but another cup of herbal tea.
Somewhere between fending off Paisley’s petty cruelty, the ever-approaching wedding, and Maddie’s breathless, pale-faced episode in the corridor, he’d clean forgotten about his own wretched cold.
If he could forget the weight in his chest in favor of watching over her… perhaps he was recovering after all. Or perhaps she’d simply made him forget everything else.
“Are you going to make one?” The old butler who’d served Thomas’s grandfather and now Thomas—who’d known Sebastian since he was a lad—had that extant twinkle in his light blue eyes. The butler was a dear man and the fuss over the hasty wedding wore him out.
“I was going to the kitchen to whip up a batch, yes.” Sebastian winked with one eye and the butler had understood. “Will you let the earl know?”
“Certainly, milord,” the butler said with a smirk. The title always sounded respectful, except when it came from him. Eh, Sebastian shrugged, the old man had known him for so long. There wasn’t a tale of his boyhood that didn’t have one version or another of McGulligan, the butler, carrying him and Thomas back to bed—usually bringing them back from the brewery. When the milkmaids joined the stableboy to taste a new concoction that Thomas had invented, the nights got a bit wild.
Sebastian tiptoed quietly through the silent halls of the castle, making his way to the kitchen. He didn’twant anyone to know he was sneaking down to cook himself a nightcap; he’d only share it later with Thomas. He’d leave a cup in the cabinet behind the cheese for McGulligan. He knew where to find it.
Once he arrived and greeted the cook on her way out, he went to work, gathering the usual kitchen utensils he needed.
“Whipping up a flip, milord?” she said with a smile. She, too, had known Sebastian since he was a boy. “Shall I set aside some strong coffee in the mornin’?” she teased. When he was fourteen, there’d been this one time when the egg-flip hadn’t agreed with him… oh well, that was a long time ago.
“I’m three-and-twenty, Mrs. Thatcher.”
“All grown up, milord, I know.” Her tone was wistful. This wasn’t his castle, and Sebastian didn’t need to be the head of household here. The staff were his friends, to the extent propriety allowed—and a little beyond.
He grabbed a pewter tankard for the beer, and a long-handled egg-spoon to stir in the eggs, sugar, and nutmeg. He carefully cracked the eggs into a bowl and added a spoonful of sugar and a pinch of nutmeg, then beat them together until they were light and frothy.
Next, he poured a quart of ale into a large iron pot and then added the egg mixture to the ale as it heated up over the open flame of the fire. Using a long-handled iron poker, he stirred the mixture vigorously, careful not to let it boil. As it warmed, the egg-flip thickened and became smooth and creamy. By the time he was finished, the staff had dispersed to other parts of the house. The servants turned in early at Fort Balmore.
