into a spot halfway through.
“Improving The Disposition.” That would do. ‘One teaspoon of oil of ginger, one of peppermint, one of lavender seeds,’ she muttered. ‘Add to boiling water, stir with a whisker of a cat. Stand overnight.’
It sounded simple. There was powdered ginger and peppermint essence in the larder, lavender seeds in a pomander in the dresser. A cat’s whisker …?Absently Ellie scratched Scruff’s chin. ‘You won’t mind donating a whisker in the quest for peace, will you Scruff?’
Scruff commandeered the chair she vacated and curled up in a fluffyball as she fetched the ingredients and dropped them into a mug. Her nose wrinkled when she added the boiling water. It smelled vile. How on earth would she persuade Patrick to drink it?’
Deciding to figure it out in the morning she headed for the comatose Scruff. Her finger and thumb closed around one of his whiskers and she gave a gentle tug.
‘Anyone would think I was trying to murder you!’ Nursing the scratch on her hands Ellie glared at the shelf above the range. Scruff glared back at her. Ears flattened and tail lashing back and forth, his yellow eyes were malevolent.
Ellie picked up the pieces of the jug he’d knocked to the floor and decided that discretion was the better part of valor. ‘You were a sweet fluffy kitten once, now you’re a flaming tiger,’ she muttered, bestowing a frown on her adversary. ‘If it hadn’t been for me you’d still be in the cat’s home. There’s gratitude for you.’
‘What the devil’s going on in here?’ Patrick’s nose twitched. ‘And what’s that disgusting smell?’ Trust him to turn up at exactly the wrong moment
‘A ... it’s a sleeping draught,’ she lied. ‘I couldn’t sleep.’
At least that much was true. And the reason she couldn’t sleep was standing right in front of her in a skimpy toweling shave coat, his hair all tousled up from contact with the pillow.
If Patrick hadn’t kissed her, she wouldn’t have spent the last three hours tossing and turning whilst her body tormented her with the fact that she was a woman without a mate.
‘I’m sorry you were woken up.’ Another lie, but she couldn’t very well tell him he’d deserved it. Opening her hands she exposed the shards of pottery and diverted the blame away from herself before depositing them in the bin. ‘Scruff knocked this off the shelf. That’s what woke you.’
‘I wasn’t asleep.’
Ellie’s eyes narrowed slightly as he subsided on to a chair. If Patrick couldn’t sleep here was the perfect opportunity. If she could get him to swallow the draught her troubles would be over. Did it really matter if it hadn’t been stirred with the whisker of a cat, or left overnight? Summoning up a friendly smile she indicated the cooling potion. ‘You can have some of that if you like.’
Suspicion came into his eyes. ‘It smells like boiled mothballs. You made it for yourself - you drink it.
* * * *
She should have known he’d be difficult. Feigning a yawn she sauntered casually towards the door. ‘I don’t think I need it. Actually, Patrick, I feel quite sleepy.’
The corner of her eye picked up the spell book lying open on the table. Momentarily she froze, then, heart banging like a drum, casually reached out for it.
‘Oh no you don’t, Eloise.’ Lightning fast, Patrick’s hand descended on hers and effectively immobilized it. ‘Let’s see what we have here.’
‘No!’ Realizing the futility of struggling against his superior strength, she relaxed. ‘It’s personal.’
‘You’re not kidding!’ The mockery in his eyes brought flaming colour to her face. ‘Who’s disposition are you trying to improve?’
‘Yours.’ Hating the chuckle he gave, and unable to hide her embarrassment, Ellie sighed. ‘You’re the most bad-tempered man I’ve ever met.’
‘And you want to turn me into a pussy cat.’
Automatically her glance flicked to Scruff. He was gazing at her
“Improving The Disposition.” That would do. ‘One teaspoon of oil of ginger, one of peppermint, one of lavender seeds,’ she muttered. ‘Add to boiling water, stir with a whisker of a cat. Stand overnight.’
It sounded simple. There was powdered ginger and peppermint essence in the larder, lavender seeds in a pomander in the dresser. A cat’s whisker …?Absently Ellie scratched Scruff’s chin. ‘You won’t mind donating a whisker in the quest for peace, will you Scruff?’
Scruff commandeered the chair she vacated and curled up in a fluffyball as she fetched the ingredients and dropped them into a mug. Her nose wrinkled when she added the boiling water. It smelled vile. How on earth would she persuade Patrick to drink it?’
Deciding to figure it out in the morning she headed for the comatose Scruff. Her finger and thumb closed around one of his whiskers and she gave a gentle tug.
‘Anyone would think I was trying to murder you!’ Nursing the scratch on her hands Ellie glared at the shelf above the range. Scruff glared back at her. Ears flattened and tail lashing back and forth, his yellow eyes were malevolent.
Ellie picked up the pieces of the jug he’d knocked to the floor and decided that discretion was the better part of valor. ‘You were a sweet fluffy kitten once, now you’re a flaming tiger,’ she muttered, bestowing a frown on her adversary. ‘If it hadn’t been for me you’d still be in the cat’s home. There’s gratitude for you.’
‘What the devil’s going on in here?’ Patrick’s nose twitched. ‘And what’s that disgusting smell?’ Trust him to turn up at exactly the wrong moment
‘A ... it’s a sleeping draught,’ she lied. ‘I couldn’t sleep.’
At least that much was true. And the reason she couldn’t sleep was standing right in front of her in a skimpy toweling shave coat, his hair all tousled up from contact with the pillow.
If Patrick hadn’t kissed her, she wouldn’t have spent the last three hours tossing and turning whilst her body tormented her with the fact that she was a woman without a mate.
‘I’m sorry you were woken up.’ Another lie, but she couldn’t very well tell him he’d deserved it. Opening her hands she exposed the shards of pottery and diverted the blame away from herself before depositing them in the bin. ‘Scruff knocked this off the shelf. That’s what woke you.’
‘I wasn’t asleep.’
Ellie’s eyes narrowed slightly as he subsided on to a chair. If Patrick couldn’t sleep here was the perfect opportunity. If she could get him to swallow the draught her troubles would be over. Did it really matter if it hadn’t been stirred with the whisker of a cat, or left overnight? Summoning up a friendly smile she indicated the cooling potion. ‘You can have some of that if you like.’
Suspicion came into his eyes. ‘It smells like boiled mothballs. You made it for yourself - you drink it.
* * * *
She should have known he’d be difficult. Feigning a yawn she sauntered casually towards the door. ‘I don’t think I need it. Actually, Patrick, I feel quite sleepy.’
The corner of her eye picked up the spell book lying open on the table. Momentarily she froze, then, heart banging like a drum, casually reached out for it.
‘Oh no you don’t, Eloise.’ Lightning fast, Patrick’s hand descended on hers and effectively immobilized it. ‘Let’s see what we have here.’
‘No!’ Realizing the futility of struggling against his superior strength, she relaxed. ‘It’s personal.’
‘You’re not kidding!’ The mockery in his eyes brought flaming colour to her face. ‘Who’s disposition are you trying to improve?’
‘Yours.’ Hating the chuckle he gave, and unable to hide her embarrassment, Ellie sighed. ‘You’re the most bad-tempered man I’ve ever met.’
‘And you want to turn me into a pussy cat.’
Automatically her glance flicked to Scruff. He was gazing at her
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