Page 59 of A Wallflower to Win the Viscount

Hoping she was displaying more confidence than she felt, she walked up the footpath and instructed herself to focus only on Clawdia’s well-being so her courage would not fail her.

She paused in front of the door, took in another deep breath and, with her hand over her heart, exhaled slowly, then knocked.

‘Oh, Miss Fairburn, thank goodness you’re here,’ the surprisingly flustered footman said as he opened the door. ‘His lordship asked me to send you a note, but it’s been so hectic I haven’t yet got around to it. You’ll be pleased to know Clawdia has given birth to four delightful kittens, and mother and babies are all doing well.’

Primrose closed her eyes and gave thanks, then her eyes sprang back open. ‘She’s not on top of a bookshelf, is she?’

‘No, no. Come and see.’ He stood back so she could enter, then led her down the hallway to the study.

He opened the door. She remained standing in the hallway and attempted to compose herself, but that was all but impossible when memories of the last time she had been in that room came flooding back with such an intensity it was making her feel light-headed.

The footman smiled and gestured for her to enter.

She stepped inside, her gaze moving around the room as she took in the surprising scene before her. Clawdia was lying regally in the middle of a large wicker hamper, with four multicoloured kittens snuggled up against her.

On the floor beside her basket was an array of china dishes, laid out like a buffet breakfast and containing a wide variety of food and drink which a discerning cat might like to sample.

Beside Clawdia’s basket was a chair, on which Lucian was sitting, like a visitor at a hospital ward beside the infirm person’s bed, a book on his lap, which he appeared to be studying intently.

He stood the moment she entered, his finger holding his place in the now-closed book, appearing as awkward as she felt.

‘Primrose,’ he said, his voice disconcertingly soft, his eyes gazing at her with a look that might be described as tenderness. Whatever that look was, it caused her heart to melt.

‘Clawdia’s had her kittens,’ he said unnecessarily. He looked down and gave the animals a surprisingly affectionate smile.

‘So I see. Well done, sweetheart.’ She crossed the room and patted Clawdia on the head and got a contented purr in response, before the cat snuggled back into the clothing lining the basket.

‘Are those your shirts?’ she asked, examining the men’s flannel shirts inside the basket, ones that appeared to be expensively made and in remarkably good condition.

‘Yes,’ he said, stepping forward. ‘She gave birth on the bare wood floor, which looked most uncomfortable, so we had to move her and the kittens. We’ve made do with what we’ve got, even though I’m sure we could have bought something more appropriate.’

He looked down at the book in his hand. ‘We did that before I knew what was the right or the wrong thing to do.’ He gazed back at her, his brow furrowed. ‘But don’t worry. According to Mrs Elwood’s Treatise on the Correct Care of Our Feline Friends, cats sometimes do give birth in places that are inconvenient to the household, and there is no harm done in moving them, as long as it is to somewhere they are warm and feel safe.’

‘No, I’m not worried about Clawdia. I’m worried about your shirts.’

‘Actually, it turns out they’re perfect. They’re soft and warm, and Clawdia does appear to feel safe snuggled into them.’

For a ridiculous moment Primrose felt jealous of her cat. Despite the shirts being laundered, with a cat’s heightened sense of smell Clawdia was certain to pick up his masculine scent, something with which Primrose was also familiar, along with the deliciously dangerous effect that scent could have on one’s equilibrium.

‘Hmm,’ she said in a noncommittal manner, determined not to reveal anything of the embarrassing thoughts that were going through her head. ‘Well, I’m pleased you’ve placed them in a hamper. It’s going to make it much easier to carry them home.’

And the sooner that happens, the sooner I can stop having these ridiculous reactions, like feeling jealous of my cat!

‘Would you please call for the footman to help?’

She turned to face him, and he was staring at her with an expression of disbelief.

‘What?’ she asked tentatively.

‘We can’t move them all the way down the street,’ he said as if she had suggested something outrageous.

‘Why not?’ she asked with a smile, certain he could not be serious.

He held up the book as if it contained the last word on everything to do with cats. ‘Mrs Elwood says cats choose a place they feel safe in which to give birth.’

‘All right,’ Primrose said slowly, wondering why Lucian would not consider her house safe.

‘For some reason, the place Clawdia has decided is the safest is this study,’ he said, pointing to the new mother, who was watching this exchange with some interest.