The Christmas Kittens by Lynn Collum Page B

this dark comedy, appeared at first relieved to see her daughter was accompanied, then curious. “What are you and Anthea doing here?”
    Marsden watched as Karis nervously ran hands down the front of the apron she wore, brushing bits of flour loose while she tried to explain.
    “Well, since Dorinda did not need me . . . That is, Anthea and I . . .”
    Seeing the glowering look on Miss Westerly's pretty countenance, the marquess suspected that Miss Lockhart had risked much by foiling her cousin's little ploy. He would not abandon her to the conniving beauty's wrath. “I invited your niece to bring her sister, Miss Anthea, for the day to play with my daughter, Lady Rosalind. I hope you don't mind, Lady Westerly.”
    “Not in the least, my lord,” the baroness replied.
    That mystery cleared, the lady realized the greater question was why her own daughter was here. The girl was supposed to be home in bed resting. Lady Westerly was suddenly interested in getting Dory alone to find out what plot she was engaged in. Her greatest fear was that the headstrong child would ruin her chances at a good match by doing something outrageous.
    When the baroness remain quiet, the marquess wisely continued his efforts for Karis. “I fear my daughter and I have taken advantage of Miss Lockhart's kind nature and artistic talents. She and the girls have been quite busy all morning making Christmas decorations for the Great Hall while I was away handling matters for the estate.”
    Dorinda laughed. What a great fool her cousin was. She'd spent her time with the most handsome man to come to Warwickshire in ages acting like a nursemaid and servant. `Twas no wonder he'd gone off on business. In a sweet voice edged with sarcasm, she remarked, “My cousin does so love getting her hands dirty.”
    Karis's cheeks warmed, but she merely pulled a pair of scissors from her pocket which she'd been using to cut the red ribbons. “Shall we find needle and thread to repair that tear in your gown, cousin?”
    The baroness had failed to note the torn sleeve. “Dorinda Westerly, that dress was new and you have practically ruined it. When I think what I paid that modiste--well never mind. Come with me at once, only Jane has the skill to repair such a fine garment.”
    “But Mama, what about Karis? We cannot leave her . . . alone with a gentleman.”
    As the baroness eyed her niece thoughtfully, the sounds of children's laughter echoed in the Great Hall. The girls came down the stairs calling for Karis. The marquess stepped to the door, signaling them to come to the library.
    Lady Rosalind entered carrying two kittens. She ignored the unknown ladies, going straight to Karis. “We are done painting the cones. When can we finish the decorations?”
    Anthea trailed in behind Lady Rosalind. She also carried a kitten, but halted warily at the sight of her aunt and cousin. A defiant look settled in her hazel eyes. “Good afternoon, Aunt Flora. What brings you and Dorinda to Whiteoaks?”
    Suddenly reminded of her purpose, the baroness fumbled in her reticule for a few minutes before pulling out a card. “I almost forgot. Lord Marsden, we are having a dinner on Christmas Eve and you are most cordially invited. `Tis nothing grand, but I thought you might enjoy meeting your closest neighbors.”
    Under normal circumstances, Marsden would have refused. He'd come to Warwickshire to repair the house, not to socialize, but just now he knew he should stay in the baroness's good graces to try to protect Miss Lockhart as best he could from any reprisals from her cousin. “I should be delighted to attend.”
    Lady Westerly beamed. “Excellent, my lord. My daughter and I will take our leave. We look forward to seeing you then. We must be off, Dory.”
    Dorinda wanted to stamp her foot in frustration. She was being forced to return home while her mousy cousin might remain. She must leave the gentleman with a lasting impression of her. Her gaze came to rest on the rather