“I rarely suffer tumbles from trees.”
“Rarelysuggests it has happened before.”
“Children,” Camilla interrupted as Adelaide opened her mouth to voice another argument, “this is hardly the time for a squabble. You, Miss Duveen, need to climb down from the tree, and you, Gideon, will keep your back turned and maintain your distance because, again, Miss Duveen is improperly dressed. I’ll wait underneath the tree and attempt to catch Miss Duveen if she falls.”
“No one is standing under the tree,” Adelaide countered. “With that settled, I’m coming down, and I’d better not find either of you waiting for me.”
Ignoring Gideon’s mutters, Adelaide began her descent, scooting across the limb where her gown was stuck. After untangling it from a small branch, she stilled when an ominous creak met her ears, followed by the distinct sound of a branch breaking. Before she knew it, she was whizzing through the air, wincing as branches slapped against her face. Squeezing her eyes shut, she barely had time to pray for a soft landing before she slammed into something hard—something that, of course, turned out to be Gideon.
Seven
Opening her eyes, Adelaide blinked a time or two as Gideon’s chin swam into view right as she realized he’d somehow managed to catch her without either of them dropping to the ground, even though she had to have been a dead weight when she’d plummeted into arms that seemed to be forged of steel.
“Would this be the moment where I get to say I told you so?” Gideon asked.
Pulling her thoughts away from his arms, which was rather difficult since they were wrapped around her and holding her close to a chest that seemed just as hard, Adelaide strove to ignore the heat that was settling on her cheeks. “I suppose you’re justified for an I told you so, given that I did tumble out of the tree, but only because that branch broke at the most unsuspecting of times.”
He caught her gaze. “Perhaps I was too conservative in my estimate that you had a seventy percent chance of tumbling. I’m thinking ninety percent might have been more accurate.”
“And while I’d love to argue with that, you may be right,” Adelaide muttered, squinting as she caught sight of a smallbundle of black fur perched on a limb directly above them, one that suddenly launched itself through the air.
Before she could get a single word of warning out of her mouth, the furry missile landed directly on Gideon’s head. A second later, she found herself relinquished to the ground, landing with anumphin a pile of leaves as Gideon fought to disentangle a now rampaging kitten from his hair.
Pushing herself to her feet as the kitten began hissing while it kept its claws firmly attached to Gideon’s head, Adelaide stood on tiptoe, wrapped her hand around the kitten, and gave it a tug—to no avail. She tugged again.
“You do realize that hurts, don’t you?” Gideon grumbled.
“If you didn’t have so much hair, this wouldn’t be an issue.”
“I’ll make certain to broach that matter with my barber the next time I pay him a visit, on the off chance I’m in danger of suffering another assault by a miniature feline that’s far fiercer than it looks.”
“It’s just scared,” she said before she returned her attention to the kitten. “No one’s going to hurt you,” she cooed, which earned her a blink of an eye from it before it released a pitiful-sounding mewl.
Taking that as a sign it might now be agreeable to relinquishing its hold on Gideon’s hair, she reached up and gave it another tug, smiling when she managed to pluck it from his head, even though she earned another wince from Gideon in return.
“How delightful to learn there actually was a stranded animal,” Camilla said, stepping up beside Adelaide and eyeing the kitten, who was already nuzzling its tiny head into the crook of Adelaide’s neck.
“You thought I made it up?” Adelaide asked.
“That did cross my mind,” Camilla admitted. “The morning started off unusually warm for October, although that’s no longer the case, and there was a possibility you simply shucked out of your dress because of that. A kitten in need ofrescue would have been a perfect excuse to explain that odd situation.”
“I don’t make it a habit to shuck off my garments without due cause.”
“I would hope not.”
“Well, quite,” Adelaide said before she turned to Gideon, who was now presenting her with his back, something that recalled her to the notion she was lollygagging around in her unmentionables. Heat immediately settled on her cheeks again. “Perhaps now would be an excellent time for you, Gideon, to become better acquainted with a kitten I believe I’ll call...” She held it away from her, looked it over, and smiled. “He looks like a Harvey.”
“He seems more like a Menace than a Harvey, but it’s not a surprise to learn it’s a male, considering it didn’t hesitate to attack me,” Gideon muttered.
“I’m not naming him Menace,” Adelaide countered. “That would hurt Harvey’s little feelings. And just so you know, female cats go on the offensive just as often as males do, but I imagine Harvey attacked you because he thought you were a threat to me.” She cuddled Harvey close. “That suggests he would make an excellent guard cat for someone who often finds themselves in precarious situations.”
“That isn’t your way of suggesting I take ownership of Harvey, is it?”
“He’d be perfect for you.”
“On the contrary. That little monster just yanked a great deal of hair from my head, and its claws punctured my scalp. Besides, I already have a temperamental stallion and a beast of a dog that would probably view Harvey as a snack. Furthermore, the last thing I need to add to my household is a kitten with a questionable nature. I prefer not having to sleep with one eye open at night.”
“I’ll give you a day or two to rethink the matter,” Adelaidesaid, earning a snort from Gideon before he strode into motion, without taking up Adelaide’s suggestion he get better acquainted with Harvey no less, his rapid pace lending the impression he was determined to put some distance between them as quickly as possible.
