“Check the floor! Remember the boa?”
Daniel raised his eyebrows and ruffled his overlong dark hair. Time he visited the barber.
“Remember?” Daniel shuddered. “I’d rather not.”
The Egyptian sand boa, gifted to Horace by another avid naturalist, was luckily nonvenomous. Last month it had escaped and found a temporary home in Daniel’s slipper. London, apparently, was much colder than Egypt. And though sand boas were supposedly harmless, the confrontation had not been pleasant for man or reptile.
Daniel swept his eyes across the rug. The heavy drapes rustled, and Nora tightened her grip on Daniel’s nightshirt. Definitely bigger than a mouse, whatever it was.
“Over there,” she whispered. The scratching started again,this time accompanied by moving fabric.
“What has he brought home lately?” Daniel whispered.
Nora frowned. Mrs. Phipps had a dog, but Duchess couldn’t get into a closed room. “Nothing I know of. Please tell me it’s not a giant rat.”
“Could be a bird down the chimney,” Daniel offered.
Hardly any better.
Jaw set, Daniel gingerly donned his slippers as Nora leaned forward, body tipped over the edge of the bed like a child peering over the rail of a ship, searching for sea monsters. Warily, Daniel plucked up a folded newspaper and brandished it in front of him, feet springy, ready to retreat. He poked the curtain with the newspaper, keeping his distance, but when nothing erupted in surprise, he gripped the draperies and yanked them aside.
“What the—”
Nora squeaked and recoiled to safety in the center of the bed. A fuzzy brown ball, nearly as large as Duchess, darted around Daniel’s legs. The fur was short and coarse, but the creature had no hairless tail, so it couldn’t be a rat. Besides, it was far too big. “What is it?” she demanded, clutching the sheets.
“I’d tell you if I had the slightest clue. It doesn’t seem aggressive,” Daniel said hopefully, peering at the animal hunched beneath the writing desk. It had a comical face—beady black eyes and a shining nose, all set close together.
“Is it a bear?” Nora gasped.
“A ten-pound bear?” Daniel shook his head and inched closer, craning his head to get a different view. “Lords and ladies, what did Horace get his hands on this time?”
“And why is it in our room?”
Daniel shrugged, and Nora had to admit, even if just to herself, that there were plenty of things in this home defying belief, reason, and description.
The animal swiveled its head back to the wall, making her jump, but it merely commenced an unhurried scratching on the molding with thick black claws. “I’d think it was a beaver, but it’s got the wrong kind of tail,” Nora said, curious now. Horace had a beaver pelt in his collection, and this creature clearly lacked the spade-like, scaly appendage.
Daniel reached his long arm toward her. “Hand me a pillow cover, will you? I’ll bag him in case he bites.”
Nora pulled the case off Daniel’s pillow and threw it to him. Hiding a smile—whatever he pretended, he liked Horace’s creatures—Daniel nudged the fur ball into the pillowcase without much resistance. “Got him!”
Nora flopped back onto the bed, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. “Quite the battle.”
He chuckled, regarding the wiggling bag. “Our mystery guest doesn’t seem to mind it in here, but I think we’d best take it back to wherever it belongs.”
“But how on earth did he get in our room?” Nora demanded.
“Loath as I am to correct you, we don’t know it’s a he. Snooping around inspecting the drapes sounds more female, if you ask me.”
“Why not take him out of the bag and check,” Nora grumbled.
“Not the body I was hoping to examine, but—” He sidestepped as she lobbed a pillow at him.
“Let’s take him to Horace.” Nora stuffed her feet into slippers after a quick check for snakes, spiders, and sundry, andtugged on a dressing gown, all the while surveying the room. The windows were closed, and though it was possible the beast had come in by the chimney, she didn’t think—“Oddio!” The interjection sprang from her mouth in Italian, just as she’d learned it from Magdalena, her volatile mentor. “That thing must have come in with Julia’s linens!”
She waved at a wicker basket, lid askew, and leaped back a good two yards. “It probably urinated in there!” Nora grimaced. “I thought that basket was heavy.” She’d carried it into their bedroom herself yesterday afternoon. “I—”
“I think she’s friendly,” Daniel announced. “Not saying I want her in here, scratching at the new wallpaper and getting ideas about climbing into the bed—”
