He moved with surprising balance, his arms bearing his weight easily, and the assembled room watched in collective silence. Lady Upwell's hand went to her mouth. The duchess tilted her head to the side. And Reverend Fairleigh made a sound that resembled a smothered laugh.
Mr. Atherton was going to make it. He’d already gone two thirds of the way across the room when Marmalade appeared in the middle of the rug.
No one saw where the kitten had come from. He hadn’t been there the moment before, but then he was. The kitten appeared completely uninterested by Mr. Atherton or his abilities. In fact, Marmalade seemed to regard the gentleman’s approaching hands with the mildest of interest and showed no inclination of moving from his spot.
The gentleman saw the little orange kitten too late.
He attempted to redirect himself, but his arms wobbled and spectators gasped and then...
He fell to the rug with a soft thud.
Luckily, he’d managed to get a shoulder under himself, suggesting he had some prior experience with this sort of outcome. But he fell nonetheless.
The kitten pushed back to his paws and walked the short distance to where Mr. Atherton lay on the rug. He leapt up onto the gentleman’s chest and looked Mr. Atherton directly in the eyes, just long enough to make his feelings on the matter plain. Then he hopped back to the rug and made a direct path to the window seat, where he began cleaning his hind quarters.
Mr. Atherton remained on his back, looking up at the ceiling. "The cat," he said to anyone who cared to listen, "was not in the terms."
"The terms say you were to walk the length of the room without falling," Lucien said, composing himself with visible effort. "You fell."
"I was hindered by force majeure."
"Meaning you fell," Lucien said. His voice was steady, but his dark eyes twinkled with mirth.
The drawing room erupted into laughter. Even Lucien joined in, which was rare enough that more than one person looked over in surprise. Emma’s hand was pressed over her mouth and her shoulders trembled. The duchess made a sound of pure delight. Lord Upwell began to applaud.
Mr. Atherton sat up, looked over at Marmalade, who was still washing his nether regions on the window seat with complete indifference to any of the goings on in the drawing room.
“Dawn to midnight,” Lucien reminded his friend.
“I am aware of the terms,” Mr. Atherton said, with all the dignity he could muster under the circumstances.
Cori was laughing, her hand against her own mouth, when she felt a light touch on her arm.
She turned to find Cait beside her.
"Come with me," her sister said quietly. "I need to talk to you."
Cori followed her sister to a nearby sitting room and Cait closed the door behind them.
"Have you seen Cara?" Cait asked once they were alone.
“Not since this morning. Why?” Cori frowned.
Cait released a sigh. “I’ve been looking for her. Did she seem herself, do you think?”
If anyone did not seem themselves at the moment, it was Cait. “She was fine. What’s this about? You’re worrying me."
Cait was quiet for a moment. Then she moved to the window and looked out at the grey wet afternoon that seemed to stretch on forever. "Daniel told me something this morning," she finally said. "Something he thought I should know and something I think you need to know as well.”
Well, that was mysterious. “What is it?”
Cait turned back to face her and the grim expression on her face made Cori’s heart twist.
“You must promise not to tell Cara.”
“For pity’s sake, Cait. What is it?”
“Promise me.”
