meantime, you can tell me all about yourself. Rafe says your mother was an actress.”
Two weeks later, Anthony Black stepped down from his coach, glad to be free of the vehicle’s confines after long days of travel. The mid-March afternoon was brisk but sunny, the kind that lured people to defy the lingering chill in order to savor a long, invigorating draft of new spring air.
“Good day, Your Grace, and welcome,” greeted the Pendragons’ butler as he and a pair of footmen hurried forward to assist with Tony’s arrival. “How was your journey? Uneventful, I hope.”
“Too uneventful, Martin,” Tony replied. “Downright tedious, in sections, especially given the mud that plagued us from Hertfordshire on north. But I am here now and fully prepared to enjoy the celebration. What of the others? Has anyone else made it past the morass?”
The butler smiled. “Only one other. Mrs. Mayhew, her ladyship’s cousin, arrived yesterday and immediately took to her bed with a case of rheumatism. We are hopeful she will be feeling well enough to take dinner with company this evening. All the other guests are expected either today or tomorrow.”
Tony nodded, then glanced around. “So where are Lord and Lady Pendragon?” Usually Rafe and Julianna came out to greet him when he arrived for a visit.
“His lordship is meeting in his study with a pair of investors who drove over from Leeds this morning. And I believe her ladyship is out taking Master Campbell for a stroll in the garden. Allow me to inform them you are here.”
“No, don’t trouble yourself,” Tony said, waving aside the offer. “I’ll just slip around back and announce myself. I know the way.”
Martin inclined his gray-haired head. “As you prefer, Your Grace.”
With a grin, Tony set off, hands tucked inside the pockets of his many-caped greatcoat, his boots sinking comfortably into the soft, cold ground beneath him as he walked. Birds chattered in the trees and bushes, one of them with lively yellow feathers pausing on a branch to complain about Tony’s proximity, the bird’s throat warbling as he sent his urgent call to the others of his flock. Amused, Tony watched for a moment, then continued on, the vast grounds of the garden stretching out before him. With the exception of a few rows of drowsy-headed white snowdrops and a handful of yellow daffodils brave enough to dare the weather, the flower beds stood dormant, green life waiting to burst forth at the faintest hint of steady spring warmth.
The garden appeared deserted—no sign of Julianna and her rambunctious two-year-old son. Moving onward, he continued his search, suddenly spying her dressed in a lovely dark green wool pelisse that blended into her surroundings like summer leaves against grass. Drawing to a halt, he stared, momentarily amazed by the sight of her most unusual position. Kneeling on the ground, her distinctly feminine posterior was pointed toward the sky, her head and shoulders stuck under an evergreen bush. Of all the situations in which he might have expected to discover Julianna Pendragon, this one would never have entered his mind.
“You may find this an impertinent question, your ladyship,” he drawled, “but what are you doing down there?”
She jerked, a muffled murmur following before she began backing out from underneath the bush.
By sheer force of will, he resisted the urge to laugh. “I certainly hope Rafe doesn’t know you’re doing this. He wouldn’t approve of finding his wife scuttling around on the cold ground on her hands and knees.” He broke off as another thought suddenly occurred. “Cam’s not under there, I hope.”
“No,” she stated in a voice that didn’t sound at all like her own. Moments later her head popped out from beneath the bush, and she sat up on her knees. “I’m trying to rescue a litter of kittens. They’re huddled under there and I don’t want them to freeze.”
Abruptly, his amusement turned to surprise as
Two weeks later, Anthony Black stepped down from his coach, glad to be free of the vehicle’s confines after long days of travel. The mid-March afternoon was brisk but sunny, the kind that lured people to defy the lingering chill in order to savor a long, invigorating draft of new spring air.
“Good day, Your Grace, and welcome,” greeted the Pendragons’ butler as he and a pair of footmen hurried forward to assist with Tony’s arrival. “How was your journey? Uneventful, I hope.”
“Too uneventful, Martin,” Tony replied. “Downright tedious, in sections, especially given the mud that plagued us from Hertfordshire on north. But I am here now and fully prepared to enjoy the celebration. What of the others? Has anyone else made it past the morass?”
The butler smiled. “Only one other. Mrs. Mayhew, her ladyship’s cousin, arrived yesterday and immediately took to her bed with a case of rheumatism. We are hopeful she will be feeling well enough to take dinner with company this evening. All the other guests are expected either today or tomorrow.”
Tony nodded, then glanced around. “So where are Lord and Lady Pendragon?” Usually Rafe and Julianna came out to greet him when he arrived for a visit.
“His lordship is meeting in his study with a pair of investors who drove over from Leeds this morning. And I believe her ladyship is out taking Master Campbell for a stroll in the garden. Allow me to inform them you are here.”
“No, don’t trouble yourself,” Tony said, waving aside the offer. “I’ll just slip around back and announce myself. I know the way.”
Martin inclined his gray-haired head. “As you prefer, Your Grace.”
With a grin, Tony set off, hands tucked inside the pockets of his many-caped greatcoat, his boots sinking comfortably into the soft, cold ground beneath him as he walked. Birds chattered in the trees and bushes, one of them with lively yellow feathers pausing on a branch to complain about Tony’s proximity, the bird’s throat warbling as he sent his urgent call to the others of his flock. Amused, Tony watched for a moment, then continued on, the vast grounds of the garden stretching out before him. With the exception of a few rows of drowsy-headed white snowdrops and a handful of yellow daffodils brave enough to dare the weather, the flower beds stood dormant, green life waiting to burst forth at the faintest hint of steady spring warmth.
The garden appeared deserted—no sign of Julianna and her rambunctious two-year-old son. Moving onward, he continued his search, suddenly spying her dressed in a lovely dark green wool pelisse that blended into her surroundings like summer leaves against grass. Drawing to a halt, he stared, momentarily amazed by the sight of her most unusual position. Kneeling on the ground, her distinctly feminine posterior was pointed toward the sky, her head and shoulders stuck under an evergreen bush. Of all the situations in which he might have expected to discover Julianna Pendragon, this one would never have entered his mind.
“You may find this an impertinent question, your ladyship,” he drawled, “but what are you doing down there?”
She jerked, a muffled murmur following before she began backing out from underneath the bush.
By sheer force of will, he resisted the urge to laugh. “I certainly hope Rafe doesn’t know you’re doing this. He wouldn’t approve of finding his wife scuttling around on the cold ground on her hands and knees.” He broke off as another thought suddenly occurred. “Cam’s not under there, I hope.”
“No,” she stated in a voice that didn’t sound at all like her own. Moments later her head popped out from beneath the bush, and she sat up on her knees. “I’m trying to rescue a litter of kittens. They’re huddled under there and I don’t want them to freeze.”
Abruptly, his amusement turned to surprise as
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