“A panda is a kind of Chinese bear, black and white like my Panda. The name ‘panda’ means something like ‘giant bear cat.’ The local maharajah had a pair of them in his private menagerie. I was very lucky to see them. I was told pandas are completely unknown in Europe. They’re gentle beasts who eat only bamboo.”
“Whereas your Panda will apparently eat anything.” Anthony had definitely not lost his sense of humor in recent years.
“You’re not wrong,” she admitted. “But Imperial Chinese Throne Cats need to keep up their energy in case they must fight to defend their masters.”
Panda rolled over in Anthony’s lap. The four white paws in the air indicated a willingness to have his equally white tummy scratched. Anthony obliged. “Your Panda has energy? He seems like a cat who has settled into a life of total sybaritic pleasure.”
She had to laugh. “Again, you’re not wrong. But he’s a wonderful friendly companion, except when he decides to flop in the middle of my journal writing.”
“He likes being the center of attention,” Anthony said. The Panda was purring so loudly under the ducal ministrations that Diana could hear him from across the room.
“Imperial Chinese Throne Cats are known for being sociable. Unlike Norwegian Ice Cats, such as that one behind the draperies.” She gestured toward the long velvet draperies where she’d spotted the Spook peeking out at them.
Anthony glanced over and his brows rose. “Pale fur, long face and gangling legs, and crossed blue eyes. Yes, definitely a Norwegian Ice Cat. I saw a picture of one once, but rare, very rare. Is he also yours?”
Smiling, Diana said, “No, the Spook belongs to Lady Aurora and Captain Vance. He was the captain’s ship cat. He’s a mighty hunter, but shy.” Her comment was accompanied by the Spook’s darting out of sight behind the folds of velvet. “Is there a rare cat breed you’d like to acquire?”
He considered, a gleam in his eyes. “My sister Lady Masterson has one of the Fabulous Fabled Fishing Cats of Sumatra. Did you meet any in your travels in the East? They lurk on giant lily pads and the banks of ponds to hook unwary fish from the water.”
Enchanted, Diana asked, “What do they look like?”
“They’re very large striped cats with tufted ears and side whiskers,” he said with complete seriousness. “My sister’s cat looks quite fearsome, but he’s a fine companion. I have often envied her for having persuaded Khan to live with her.”
“They sound rather like the cats who are fathered by Scottish wildcats, but Scotland is a long way from Sumatra,” she replied with equal seriousness. “If I discover a Fabulous Fabled Fishing Cat of Sumatra, I shall attempt to secure it for you.”
Their gazes met, and they both burst into laughter. She was briefly transported seven years into the past, when she’d met Anthony while she was visiting a pair of aged aunts whose property adjoined the Castleton estate. The aunts napped a lot, leaving Diana free to ride and walk through summer fields and the ancient woods that lay between the two properties.
She’d met Anthony one day while riding in the woods. They introduced themselves, began to talk, began riding side by side, and both were late for dinner because they lost track of time.
For the next two months, they’d met in secret whenever possible. It was the best summer of her life, until their relationship came crashing down.
On impulse, she said, “Is this merely a courtesy visit, Anthony?,” deliberately using his personal name. “Or is there more to it?”
He became very still, his gaze direct. “There was once a great deal between us, Diana. I can’t help but wonder what is there now. Seeing you last night was quite a shock.”
“The shock was entirely mutual!” she said fervently.
He smiled wryly. “Now that that has worn off, I’d like to learn what, if anything, is left between us. So much time has passed. You said I was too young, and you were right. We’re different people now, long past youthful infatuation. But I think perhaps we could be friends. Would you like to see if that’s possible?”
His honesty shattered the control she’d been attempting to maintain. Certainly there was still attraction between them; that had been proved by their kiss the night before. But so much time had passed, and they’d lived very different lives. She was now an aging spinster used to always having her own way. That moment of mutual love, when there had been at least a chance to build something lasting, was long gone.
Yet they had a bond of shared memories, and so far she liked what she’d seen of the man he’d become. He’d make a loyal friend, and she needed more friends.
Glad he’d reached out to her, she replied, “I’d like very much to build a friendship. I’ve left too many friends behind in my travels. If I’m here in England to stay, and I think I am, I need to cultivate friendships.”
“We might find each other annoying now,” he warned. “You brighten any room you enter, while I’m a rather dull and dutiful fellow.”
“I never found you dull,” she said honestly. “I always found you fascinatingly complicated, with a core of steel.”
He blinked. “That’s a flattering assessment, I think, but I’m not sure what it’s based on. You were older than I, but still young.”
She realized that they hadn’t discussed such things in the old days. She must match his honesty. “I admired your strength tremendously. You father was the greatest bully in England, and as his only son, you were the target of much of his anger. Yet you never ran away. You could have taken your inheritance from your grandparents and lived a riotous life in London.
“Instead you went to university and graduated with double firsts at a ridiculously young age, then quietly went to work mitigating your father’s destructive actions. I was amazed by that then, and am even more amazed as I look back. How did you survive his abuse with your sanity intact?”
Anthony’s face tightened. “It was . . . difficult. Yet how could I leave the servants and tenants and other dependents to suffer my father’s volatile rages? Running away to live a life of self-indulgence would have been cowardice. I learned early to develop an emotional shield that his words couldn’t penetrate. I let them roll off like rain and reminded myself that I had a duty to protect those more vulnerable than I.”
“Leaving would have made you sensible, not a coward,” she said with quiet intensity. “Staying made you a hero.”
