twenty
Aweek had passed since the incident, and Effie hadn’t seen Tristan once, even though she’d visited Rowan regularly.
He’d been busy with his company after the financial disaster caused by the bombing. For reasons she didn’t understand, the incident had caused him to lose money, aside from the material damage caused to the locomotive. He’d been either out of the house or locked in his study with Mr. Fleet and other investors.
She hoped to see him that day when she visited Rowan so she could talk to him.
The footman helped her don her coat in the hallway as Jane made sure the carrier with Kettle was properly shut.
“Thank you for coming, Jane.”
Jane petted Pepper. “Don’t mention it. I’m always happy to see your pets, and Turi loves them, too.”
The Pomeranian showed his short but pointed teeth at Pepper and growled at the carrier where Kettle was hissing.
“Kettle doesn’t like being locked up.” Jane jumped when Kettle let out a long, high-pitched meow.
“It’s for a short trip. I’m sure Turi, Pepper, and Kettle will cheer Rowan up.”
“Are you going to see Montcrest again?” Papa walked into the hallway. “I need my coat,” he said to the footman who nodded.
“Not this again. Rowan desperately needs some company. He’s rather blue after a week in bed, and his leg bothers him.”
“As long as you don’t spend time with Montcrest.” He put his hat on. “And don’t go around without letting me know where you are.”
“I’m not a child,” she said dryly.
Right then, Kettle let out an ear-piercing wail that made everyone jump.
Papa shook his head. “Kettle agrees with me. Please, Effie. Anarchists keep bombing London.”
That was true. She kissed his cheek. “I won’t be late, and I won’t go anywhere else.”
The drive in the carriage was short but uncomfortable. Kettle meowed, Pepper wiggled his tail like a windmill, and Turi scowled at everyone like an old matron annoyed by rambunctious young people.
They drew a collective breath when they climbed out of the carriage. Kettle was the only one still complaining, howling like a trapped banshee.
“Nearly there, Kettle.” She cooed, but the cat was beyond comfort.
They didn’t need to ring the bell. Kettle informed the household of their presence.
Harris opened the door, his surprise clear as he looked at the cat carrier that was making such racket. “What is this, my lady?”
“It’s Kettle.” She forced a smile. “A surprise for Lord Rowan.”
“I’m afraid the surprise has been spoilt.” Harris led them to the drawing room. “Lord Rowan is here.” He winced when Kettle increased the volume of his lamentation.
“Lady Effie. Lady Vaughan.” Rowan stood up from the armchair, using a crutch.
“We brought you company,” Jane said over Kettle’s wailing.
Turi wriggled out of her arms and ran about the room, scoffing.
“Don’t stand up for me.” She put the carrier with Kettle on the floor.
Pepper tried to sniff Turi, but the Pomeranian barked in annoyance.
Rowan’s eyes brightened. “Thank you. What a treat.”
