Chapter Twelve

"H ere, kitty kitty," Blessing called soft and low while quietly moving around to the side of the bushes opposite of Thorne. "We shan't hurt you. Come out so we can see you."

Thorne crouched and squinted into the shadows beneath the gently shifting branches. He needed a torch, but that would surely scare the feline…or felines. After dealing with Mother's precocious cat, Hera, who had chosen his office as the birthplace for her offspring, he had become remarkably adept at isolating, identifying, and categorizing meows . Not a talent he would ever boast about, but from what he had learned, it sounded as if they sought a fully grown cat and one or more kittens.

"Do you see any movement on your side?" he asked Blessing.

"I thought I did, but when I crept closer, nothing was there. I fear our hunt may be in vain."

He was tempted to join her on the far side of the dense barrier of evergreen yews, but if he did, her sisters would surely cry foul. Then a breeze ran through the branches to his left, making them waft up and down and separate enough for the moonlight to slip deeper into the shadows and illuminate a pair of golden eyes staring back at him. "Aha—there you are."

"Do you see them?"

The excitement in Blessing's voice as she rushed around to join him made Thorne smile as he got down on his hands and knees, ignoring the cool dampness of the ground. If catching this elusive cat made his precious treasure happy, his clothes could just be damned. "I see a pair of eyes watching me," he told her. "This spirit of the night is very cautious."

"People can sometimes be cruel to animals. It pays to be cautious." She crouched beside him, steadying herself by resting a hand on his shoulder. "Where did you see the eyes?"

The lovely lady's nearness made it difficult to concentrate, but he persevered for the sake of making their official courting bond even stronger. "Just there." He eased one of the branches higher to let the moonlight shine deeper into the shadows once again. "There. See?"

"I see her," Blessing said in a breathless whisper.

"And how do you know it is a her ?"

"Because of the tiny meows we heard along with the big one. I may never have had a cat of my own, but I know it is the females who watch over their little ones."

"Very true, my lady." He stretched out a hand and wiggled his fingers, trying to entice the cat to come forward. "Zeus couldn't care less about his offspring."

"Zeus?"

He glanced at her and laughed. "Forgive me. Zeus is Mother's stray tom who fathered Hera's kittens."

"Here she comes." Blessing squeezed his shoulder. "No sudden moves—oh my goodness. She is carrying a kitten."

The sleek black cat, moving with the silent grace of a rippling shadow, eased out from under the branches, carrying a tiny gray and white tabby in its mouth.

"Oh no. I fear it is dead."

"No, my lady, not dead." The tears in her voice nearly made Thorne turn and gather her into his arms. "Watch when she sets it down," he whispered.

The mother cat deposited the kitten in front of him, then turned and disappeared back under the bushes. As soon as the little one was free of its mother's jaws, it came to life, crawling in a circle and mewing pitifully.

"Here she comes with another." Blessing squeezed his shoulder again.

The ginger kitten meowed in rage as soon as the mother cat placed it beside its sibling and disappeared again.

"Mother's cat had three kittens. I wonder how many this one has?" Thorne sank closer to the ground, trying to see farther under the bush with no success. It was simply too dark.

"A black one this time," Blessing whispered.

The feline mother disappeared twice more to retrieve what appeared to be the final two—a pair of solid gray tabbies almost identical to the first offspring she had laid at their feet, except these had no white spots on their coats. The cat rolled back on her haunches and twitched her tail, staring up at them as if waiting.

"Oh, how I wish I could take them home. Especially since she trusts us so." Blessing sadly shook her head. "But Gracie's hounds not only have free run of the house but also the stables, and these babies are too little to flee from them. They would never survive."

Thorne was not about to leave the cat and kittens in the park to fend for themselves. His heart, his mother, and Blessing would never forgive him for such an abandonment. He sat back on his heels, removed his greatcoat, and spread it on the ground. "Mother will take them in and act as peacemaker until Zeus and Hera learn to accept them." He carefully placed the kittens on his outspread coat while keeping an eye on the mother cat in case she changed her mind.

"She appears to be taking it well." Blessing graced him with a look that threatened to keep him on his knees in front of her. "She trusts you." She reached out and touched his cheek with a tenderness that made his heart clench. "Animals always know a person's true character."

Thorne had never been so grateful to come across a homeless cat in his life. "I hope you will always trust me as well, my treasure." He gathered up the bundle of kittens, knowing if he didn't, he would pull Blessing into a kiss, and instinct told him that now was not the time. No—now was the time to fully win her heart and mind. "Come. Let us get these felines to Mother so she might add them to her pantheon."

Blessing laughed, thrilling him with her high spirits as she hopped to her feet and stood close, holding to his arm as she peered into the bundle of kittens. "You make it sound as if she is amassing a cat army to overthrow the ton. "

"I could think of worse things."

"I could too." She turned back to the mother cat and held out a hand. "Might I carry you to the carriage, my lady?" The feline sniffed her fingers, flicked her ears as if processing the smell, but then shied away when Blessing tried to pick her up. "Oh dear. That appears to be a solid no on that count. But how will she ever make it through the streets safely?"

"Perhaps we can convince her to ride in the carriage." Thorne doubted it, but the hopelessness in Blessing's voice made him ache to find a solution to make her happy once again.

"All we can do is try, I suppose." She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and kept glancing back at the mother cat as they slowly made their way to the carriage.

"Essie—we cannot take them home," Serendipity said. "You know Gracie's hounds wouldn't give them a moment's peace."

"Remember what happened to Merry's rabbit?" Fortuity said with a grimness that left no doubt about the poor rabbit's fate.

"If it ever comes up," Blessing told Thorne, "the rabbit escaped and is alive and well at our country home in the Lake District. Mr. Warren, our overseer, sees it often."

"Understood." Thorne settled the bundle of kittens on the floor inside the carriage, then turned and eyed the mother cat that was standing nearby, stretching up and balancing on her haunches to see her babies. "It would be safer if you rode with us, madame. The streets are filled with dangerous wheels and horses' hooves." To his surprise, she twitched an ear, then gracefully leapt up into the carriage, nosed open the coat to touch each of her kittens, and curled up beside them.

"Wonders never cease." He helped Blessing up into the landau, then took his place beside her. "Home, Thompson, but go slowly and with the greatest care in case our newest passenger changes her mind."

"Lord Knightwood." Serendipity leaned forward, appearing somewhat distraught. "We cannot possibly go to your home. It simply is not done."

Surely Blessing's sister did not think him that great of a cad? He eyed the woman, wishing she would calm down and not fret so much about her role as a proper chaperone. "My mother will not have retired for the evening, my lady. If it makes you feel any better, consider this as a visit for you to meet her—rather than a visit to a bachelor's home."

Serendipity folded her hands in her lap but kept passing nervous glances between Blessing and Fortuity, leaving Thorne with the distinct impression that the sisters were communicating without speaking.

Blessing rolled her eyes. "Seri! Do stop being such a ninny."

After making a frustrated moue at Blessing, Serendipity centered her aggravated scowl on Thorne. "I know nothing about being a proper chaperone, and do not wish my sisters' reputations to suffer because of it. Especially with things the way they currently stand."

He knew exactly which things she referenced. "Blessing showed me that horrid gossip rag," he told her. "Please know I would do anything to counter that abomination, and I am sure Mother will help." Guilt about the sordid thing still tormented him. His reputation as a rakehell had given whoever had written such a thing all the ammunition they needed.

"He feels responsible," Blessing told her sister. She turned to him and rested a hand on his arm. "But you should not, Thorne. People can be such fools sometimes."

"But it is my fault, my treasure. My past behavior enabled the gossips to fabricate a tale that delights those who have nothing better to do with their time. I am truly sorry." He bowed his head.

"It will give their other targets a rest from being chattered about for a while." Blessing leaned over to peer down at the cats, then turned and smiled up at him. "You treated me to a show of stars and rescued a mother cat and her kittens. There may be hope for your soul yet, my lord."

"It is not my soul that worries me," he said softly. "It is my heart." Even by the pale light of the moon and the golden glow of the street lamps, he made out the most delightful blush rushing across her cheeks. "You are the most beautiful woman I have ever known."

She ducked her head and returned to trying to convince the mother cat to allow her to stroke her head. While the feline remained close to her kittens, she leaned away from Blessing's hand each time. "She doesn't seem to mind being near us but does not wish to be touched."

"Perhaps she simply needs more time to trust us even more than she already does." Thorne appreciated the lesson the cat and her attitude offered him. Even though Blessing had warmed to him considerably, she still needed more time to fully trust him because of his past behavior with other women. That was fine by him. He would gladly spend the rest of his life proving he was a changed man, not only because of her but for her.

As they neared his home in Mayfair, he decided, for his mother's sake, to warn the ladies about her difficulty in hearing clearly. He didn't wish his mother pitied, but nor did he wish her embarrassed or caught off guard.

"Ladies…" He stopped himself, uncertain what to say. The three Broadmere sisters eyed him expectantly. He rolled his shoulders, then scrubbed a hand across his mouth. "I need your assistance in a very delicate matter."

Fortuity leaned forward, curious as the cat riding between their feet. Blessing tipped her head, her lovely lips barely parted as she waited for him to continue. But the ever-dubious Serendipity narrowed her eyes.

There was naught to be done but to say it. "I fear my mother's hearing has started to fail, and this malady of age wounds her pride immeasurably. Whenever you speak around her, please ensure she can see your face because she has become quite adept at reading lips. If you could do that for her, it would spare her feelings so very much."

"How terrible for her," Blessing said. "Would it help if we spoke louder?"

He hurried to shake his head. "No. Then she would know I said something to you and would be most embarrassed. It's not so much that she cannot hear but more that what she hears is garbled. She describes higher-pitched voices, such as women's voices, as somehow tangled and unclear. But if you take care to face her whenever speaking, she will follow the conversation with ease and be none the wiser that I revealed the weakness over which she has no control."

"You have our word that she will never know we know," Blessing assured him before turning to her sisters. "Agreed?"

"Agreed," Serendipity and Fortuity echoed in unison.

"Thank you, ladies. That means a great deal to me. There are some in Society who have not been so kind to her."

Filled with more optimism and hope than he had felt in a very long time, Thorne hurried to descend from the carriage as soon they rolled to a stop. He helped the ladies down, Serendipity and Fortuity first, then took his time and savored helping Blessing step down to the walkway beside him.

She glanced back into the carriage, fixing a worried look on the cat. "What about madame?"

"Surely if I carry the kittens, she will follow us as before." But when he reached for the litter nested in his greatcoat, the mother cat hissed and laid back her ears.

"It appears her opinion of you has changed." Blessing offered her hand to the cat, and the feline hissed again. "And she tolerates me even less than before."

"If I might make a suggestion, my lord," Thompson said from his perch. "Once I unhitch in the stables and leave her be, she'll more than likely move her wee ones into one of the empty stalls in the back. I'll send Donnelly to fetch her some scraps for her supper. Cook knows Lady Knightwood would want the sleek little lady fed."

"That would do nicely, except at some point, we shall need to see these lovely ladies' home," Thorne said with a glance at the Broadmere sisters.

Thompson frowned for a brief moment, then said, "I can switch the team to the barouche. Would that do, my lord?"

"Indeed, it will. Thank you, Thompson." Thorne offered his arm to Blessing, then motioned for Fortuity and Serendipity to lead the way to the door. "Now that we have the feline issue settled, come, dear ladies. I know Mother will be delighted to receive you."

Cadwick swung the front door open wide before they even reached it. Reticent as ever, he waited until all had entered, then quietly closed the door and held out his hand. "Might I relieve you of your cloaks, ladies?"

"Why yes, thank you." Blessing swept hers from her shoulders, and her sisters followed suit.

The butler gave Thorne a cursory glance, then twitched a brow. "Shall I have your greatcoat fetched from the landau, my lord?"

"Not yet, Cadwick." Thorne grinned, knowing the butler's dislike of cats. "It currently serves as a bed for five kittens, and we must wait for the mother cat to move them into a more suitable home within the stable."

The servant stared at him for a long moment but revealed no opinion or change in expression whatsoever. "Very good, my lord. Her ladyship is currently visiting with her charges in your office."

"Excellent!" Thorne turned to Blessing and her sisters. "Not only will you get to meet Mother, but it appears that Hera and her offspring are holding court as well."

"Hera had her kittens in your office?" Amused disbelief danced in Blessing's lovely eyes as she took his arm.

"She did. Pushed aside one of the bottom panels of the window seat and made herself quite at home." He couldn't resist a sheepish grin. "Once I realized she was in search of a place to bring forth her little ones, I had to add a blanket or two." He cleared his throat. "Of course, I did it for Mother's sake."

"Of course," Blessing said with a soft laugh.

"You are quite the riddle, Lord Knightwood," Fortuity said as she and Serendipity followed along behind them.

"How so?" Thorne tossed a grin back at the two ladies, thrilled with the turn the evening had taken.

"You are a renowned rake, appear to possess quite a fierce temper, from what we witnessed at Lady Burrastone's affair, and yet you rescue strays, allow cats to take over your office, and are devoted to your mother." Serendipity narrowed her eyes at him yet again, but this time, her glare seemed more impressed than filled with suspicion. She turned to Fortuity. "Is that what you were about to say, Tutie?"

"You stole the words from my tongue."

"Forgive me," Serendipity said without sounding the least bit sorry.

"And here we are." Thorne eased open his office door, a warm, happy glow filling him as he revealed his mother sitting on a low footstool in front of the window box murmuring to the furry occupants within. With his next step, he purposely landed hard on his bootheel, knowing if she didn't hear the loud thump on the hardwood floor, she would at least feel the vibration.

Already smiling when she turned his way, her face lit up with delight when she saw their guests. "My goodness, dear ladies!" she said as she sprang up from the stool. "What must you think, finding me whispering into a window seat?"

"That you are a delightful lady who adores her kitties," Blessing told her as she swept forward without waiting for Thorne's introduction. "I am Blessing Abarough, one of the Duke of Broadmere's sisters, and I have always longed for a kitten of my own but could never have one because of my sister's hounds."

"Oh, my dear, come closer." Lady Roslynn excitedly motioned her forward as if they were the only two in the room. "You must meet Hera and her darlings."

"Apparently we do not exist," Thorne told the other two Broadmere sisters. "Mother?" he said somewhat louder and in a deeper voice.

"Forgive me." His mother dipped a hurried curtsy their way. "Of course, you know that I am Lady Knightwood—but do call me Lady Roslynn. Which of the duke's sisters are the two of you? We met in passing at Lady Atterley's ball, but I fear I have forgotten all the names."

"Well, there are quite of few of us to remember," Serendipity said with a laugh before curtsying. "I am Serendipity, the eldest daughter, and this is Fortuity—she is next in line after Blessing."

Lady Roslynn waved for them both to come closer as she turned and beamed at Blessing peering down at the cats. "Come meet Hera. She adores guests and is quite proud of her little ones."

"They are so very precious," Blessing said, almost squeaking with happiness. "Oh my goodness, how do you not spend every waking moment in here watching these sweet babies?"

"Thorne indulges me, my dear, but I daresay he would draw the line at that." Lady Roslynn chortled like a happily nesting hen. "And Hera needs privacy now and then—to get her rest and offer the very best of care to her children."

Blessing looked to him with such a thrilled expression that Thorne couldn't help but laugh. "Tell Lady Roslynn of our evening, my lord."

" Your evening?" Mother arched a brow, but Thorne knew what those shadows in her eyes truly meant. She feared he had done something improper regarding Lady Blessing. The look hurt his heart, but he did not resent it. After all, his past behavior—and that of his father—had rooted those fears in his mother's mind.

"While in the park, a mother cat chose us to rescue her and her five kittens," he told her.

When his mother visibly exhaled in relief, he bowed his head, silently damning himself for putting so much doubt into the minds of the women who mattered most to him.

"I am proud of you, my son," she said ever so softly, then coughed as though struggling to clear her throat. "And where are these new guests of ours?"

"Currently bedded down in my greatcoat on the floor of the landau."

She hurried to him and stretched on tiptoe while pulling him down to kiss his cheek. Tears gleamed in her eyes. Patting his face with both hands, she gave him a happy shake of her head. "You are such a good boy."

"Mother." Even though his heart soared at her praise, he was a man in the presence of his future wife. Future wife. Gads, if anyone had told him he would ever love the sound of those two words in regard to himself, he would have told them they were mad.

Lady Roslynn laughed. "Oh dear. I know that tone. Forgive me for embarrassing you, dear boy." She hurried back to the opened window seat and started pointing out the kittens. "Hera and I haven't chosen names yet," she told the sisters. "We are waiting to learn everyone's personality."

"Wise decision." Blessing crouched closer and smiled down at the mother cat and her brood.

"My lord," Cadwick intoned quietly from the doorway.

Something in the butler's voice made the hairs on Thorne's nape stand on end. He turned and arched a brow at the butler so as not to alert the ladies.

Cadwick retreated a step into the hallway. A sure sign that he wished to speak in private.

Thorne followed. "What is it?"

"Two gentlemen from Bow Street, my lord. I placed them in the smaller parlor."

"Did they say what they wanted?" Thorne had an inkling of what it was probably about but preferred not to be caught unaware.

Cadwick glanced up and down the hallway, then lowered his voice even more. "The investigation of Lord Myrtlebourne's death. They did not use the word murder but insinuated as much with their manner."

Thorne nodded. "Thank you, Cadwick. Please stay here, and if the ladies ask, tell them I shall return shortly after speaking with a messenger."

"Yes, my lord."

Thorne hurried to the smaller parlor at the front of the house, determined to deal with the Bow Street Runners and send them on their way before Blessing or her sisters were any the wiser. He strode into the room to discover both the men ambling about, examining the décor while keeping their hands shoved in their pockets. "Gentlemen?"

"Lord Knightwood." The older gentleman with a coat made of finer fabric than the other man's stepped forward. "I am Franklin Pettigrew, and this is my associate, James Rathbun. I am sure your man informed you of our business here."

"Something about a recent death?" Thorne knew better than to lie or volunteer any extra information—nor did he volunteer his cooperation. "Is this not a peculiar hour for you gentlemen to be about asking questions?"

Mr. Pettigrew nodded. "At times, we must make our inquiries in haste, my lord—no matter the hour. You are aware the Earl of Myrtlebourne died not long ago after returning from his travels?"

"I am aware of the man's passing."

"Are you also aware, my lord, of the rumors circulating that it was your liaison with the Lady Myrtlebourne that caused the earl to expire?"

"The ton is rife with rumor and innuendo." Thorne resettled his stance. "Do the Bow Street Runners make it a habit of considering such things as fact to solve their cases more expeditiously?"

The already ruddy-faced Mr. Rathbun gave a disgruntled huff. "We consider everything pertinent to the case, my lord. Very often, a kernel of truth hides within a lie."

"What do you require of me, gentlemen?" It was time for the runners to get to the point and leave before Blessing and her sisters realized they were there.

"We are also aware that your association with Lady Myrtlebourne ended several months ago—well before the earl's return to London. In fact, we have it on good authority from several reliable sources that it was you who ended the affair at that time. Would you care to comment?" Mr. Pettigrew flared his broad nostrils like an old bull trying to decide whether or not to charge.

"Your sources are indeed correct on that count." Thorne would confirm that much but no more, unless forced to step into the witness box in court. "Will there be anything else, gentlemen? As I am sure you are aware, I have guests and do not wish to keep them waiting."

Pettigrew frowned at him for a long moment before eventually nodding. "Yes, my lord. That will be all for now. Thank you for your time."

"Then I bid you good evening, gentlemen. My man will see you out."

Each of the runners gave him a curt tip of their head before allowing Cadwick to usher them to the door. Thorne stared at the parlor doorway long after the men had left. A sense of doom settled in the pit of his stomach and soured in his mouth. Why would the Bow Street Runners waste their time investigating a man found dead of a presumed heart attack? Unless there was reasonable evidence to suggest otherwise?

Thorne admitted that he had found the explanation of the earl's passing a bit hard to believe. Even though Myrtlebourne was getting on in years, the old bull had always seemed quite fit and struck Thorne as the sort of man who would delight in pummeling the daylights out of his wife's illicit lovers rather than keel over from the shock of it. Perhaps that was Myrtlebourne's brother's feeling as well.

Whatever the reason, Thorne should be safe from any accusations of murder. He hadn't returned to the Myrtlebourne residence since he had ended it with Constance—a solid three or four months before Lord Bull returned home.

Laughter echoing from his office and spilling down the hallway eased the turmoil in his heart and relaxed the tensed muscles of his shoulders. Apparently, all the ladies were getting along well. Thank heavens for that. One less worry. He shoved the gnawing uncertainty of the investigators' visit to the back of his mind and hurried to resume one of the most pleasant evenings he had enjoyed in quite a while.