This was not a story she could store away, not after the way the world had shifted beneath her feet.
The thought was terrifying as much as she believed the kiss was a mistake.
“Have you seen it?” Sophia’s voice echoed through the marble hall, and it sounded strained enough to bring Tristan up short as he moved toward his study.
“I beg your pardon, my lady?” came Mrs. Wood’s response.
Tristan advanced to see Sophia standing with the housekeeper, her face blotchy and wild.
“It’s gone. He’s gone!” Sophia’s hands were balled at her sides, the knuckles white. “I looked everywhere. He’s not in thegardener’s shed, or the old laundry, or even the larder. Someone must have—” Her voice cracked.
Mrs. Woods, caught between protocol and panic, flapped her hands in a way that suggested she might shoo Sophia upstairs by force. “My lady, I am afraid I’m having trouble understanding you.”
Tristan had a good notion of what the object of his daughter’s alarm was. He cleared his throat loudly. The effect was instantaneous: both faces snapped to him, one rigid with guilt, the other with confusion.
He addressed Mrs. Woods first. “Thank you, Mrs. Woods. I will speak with Lady Sophia alone.” The woman executed a bow and fled, looking relieved.
Tristan closed the distance to his daughter, taking in the tearstained cheeks and trembling chin. She looked up, but could not maintain eye contact.
“Well,” he said. “Are we staging a revolution today?”
Sophia wiped her cheek with the heel of her palm, then shook her head, mute.
He let the silence linger, knowing it would do more work than any words.
“Are you keeping secrets from me, Sophia?” he asked, his voice stripped of its usual edge.
She shook her head, then nodded, then shook again. “Maybe. A little.”
He made a small show of considering. “Is this secret gray, with white paws?”
Sophia’s head jerked up. Her eyes widened, raw with hope and terror. “How did you?—”
“I have a network of informants,” he replied, deadpan. “But mostly, Lady Lavinia told me.”
Her mouth opened, then closed. “Are you angry?”
“No. Lady Lavinia was quite adamant that the kitten be given a proper chance.”
There was a long silence. Then, “But the kitten is gone.”
Tristan stood. “Are you certain?”
Sophia nodded, fighting back tears. “She is not anywhere. I looked for hours.”
He considered the options. “Have you checked the north wing? Say, somewhere around my chambers?”
She gave him a baffled look. “No one ever goes there.”
“That is exactly why it is an ideal hiding place.” He kept his expression impassive. “Go. Search again. If you cannot find her by nightfall, we will post a notice.”
Sophia stared at him, uncertain. “Truly?”
“Truly.” He gestured toward the stairs. “Go. Do not return without a full report.”
She dashed off, her despair leavened by a new, frantic hope.
He watched her go, then moved toward the study. It was only after three steps that he realized his hands were shaking.
