But Daphne had not come this far only to go away empty-handed. She strained to keep her voice level. “I must contradict you, ma’am. This cat needs nursing, and I shall see to it in the kitchen. We shall not disturb you.”
Lord Ravenswood eyed the pair curiously. “Miss Oakswine, are you by way of an aunt or some other relation of Miss Kendall’s?”
Mr. Cuddlipp snickered.
Daphne felt her cheeks warming, and her temper slipping, at what must appear to his lordship as her inability to control a paid companion. The fact that this was somewhat the truth goaded her into addressing him tartly. “My lord, Miss Oakswine suffers sneezing fits around animals, and I have respected her feelings in the past. However, on this occasion, it cannot signify. The cat’s very existence depends upon me.”
Miss Oakswine appeared on die brink of apoplexy, until suddenly, a cunning look came into her eyes. “My lord, perhaps you could take the animal home with you. I am certain a gentleman of your rank commands a large staff that could easily care for one cat.”
To Daphne’s irritation, Lord Ravenswood paused and considered this statement. Once again he turned toward the cat, who immediately replied, “Grraow,” in seeming agreement to the plan.
The earl’s gaze returned to Daphne. She felt what could only be called a magnetic pull when he looked directly into her eyes. She managed to refrain from tapping her foot as he surveyed every aspect of her appearance, although she could not prevent the color from rising in her cheeks.
Miss Oakswine drove the final nail into the coffin. “I need not remind you, my lord, that it would be most improper, and would, indeed, set tongues wagging if it got about that Miss Kendall, as an unmarried lady, accepted a gift from you. Especially such an expensive one.”
Daphne drew in a quick breath at her companion’s audacity.
Lord Ravenswood’s expression turned grim. “Yes. The only thing is for the cat to return to Upper Brook Street with me.”
Before Daphne could voice any protest, his lordship raised a well-groomed hand. A strange-looking man promptly appeared at his side. Daphne realized he must have been standing close by, waiting for just such a signal.
He was not tall, but his height was enhanced by a large white turban that sat imperiously atop his head. In the center of the front of the turban was an enameled pin portraying a vibrant likeness of an eye.
The servant’s skin was nut-brown in contrast to his flowing white garments. He wore flat, gold-colored shoes from which red tassels dangled.
The look he bestowed on Miss Oakswine was nothing short of malevolent. However, he quietly produced the required sum of money and paid Mr. Cuddlipp for the cat.
“Eugene,” Lord Ravenswood directed his servant. “Remove the cat from that cage and let us be on our way.”
Eugene, whom Daphne guessed was a native of India, or perhaps Egypt, and nearing his sixtieth birthday, moved silently to obey the order.
Daphne watched as the cat was gently extracted from the cage, while Eugene spoke to it soothingly in a tongue she could not understand. The animal lay calm, like a sleeping infant, in the cradle of the older man’s arms.
Miss Oakswine twitched her long nose in satisfaction.
Mr. Cuddlipp took his money and began walking away with a jaunty step. He turned for a moment to call back, “The tiger’s name is Mihos.”
Eugene’s silver eyes widened, and a faraway expression came into them. He held the cat close to his chest.
Daphne looked regretfully at Mihos, who, she decided, really did look like a miniature tiger. Even his eyes were a golden amber color.
As if sensing her distress, Lord Ravenswood turned to address her. “Miss Kendall, after the animal is recovered, may I call on you? I shall bring Mihos with me, of course.”
“Yes, my lord, you are most kind.” Daphne looked into his dark brown eyes once more and felt the stirring of attraction. She curtsied to him, and he bowed, then moved away with Eugene a few steps behind.
It would not do, she told herself. Like all the others, he would find her Fatal Flaw. The one she herself did not know the exact nature of, but which eventually put off even the most ardent of her suitors.
After two Seasons full of admirers, who consistently balked at the point when they might have been expected to make a declaration, Daphne had lost hope of forming with any gentleman the kind of attachment her parents had enjoyed. Fortunately she had not had her heart broken, for her affections had not yet been engaged by any of the gentlemen. And, she reminded herself, she had long ago determined to marry only for love.
She was brought out of these depressing musings by the sight of a man in a brightly colored costume, who was leading an elephant out of the ring and toward the exit where Daphne and Miss Oakswine were standing.
Lord Ravenswood passed through the exit. Following the earl, Eugene held a sleeping Mihos. The servant paused at the portal, turned around, and stared at the elephant.
Daphne experienced an odd feeling that Eugene was somehow communicating with the elephant. She chided herself for being fanciful, but turned nevertheless to look at the large beast.
Miss Oakswine stood facing the opposite direction and did not see the elephant approaching. Daphne opened her mouth to voice a warning, but Miss Oakswine was full of her triumph in the matter with the cat and was saying, “In the future you will be guided by me, Daphne....”
In the next second the elephant came abreast of Miss Oakswine, raised its trunk high in the air, and bellowed a deafening cry.
Miss Oakswine’s eyes popped in her head. She clutched her chest, and with a strangled cry, fell to the ground.
Eugene had hastened after Lord Ravenswood and did not see what happened. Daphne could only stand in shock as a crowd gathered around.
A man stepped forward and leaned briefly over Miss Oakswine’s motionless body, pressing his fingers to her throat. Drawing back, he shook his head sadly. “Dead. She is quite dead.”
* * * *
A light sandalwood fragrance perfumed the air in Anthony, the Earl of Ravenswood’s, elegant London town house. It pleased him that his staff had so quickly come to know his tastes. After seven years on foreign soil, he had arrived home from Egypt a mere fortnight ago.
Home.
Home was not really this rented town house. It was his beloved estate in Surrey, Raven’s Hall. There he had grown from a boy into a young man who lived in constant conflict with his father’s shrewd and extravagant young bride, Isabella.
That reckless matron spent her time lavishly entertaining friends from London with extended house parties. Of course, costly clothes and jewels must be purchased to impress the numerous guests whom she indulged with all manner of luxuries.
Rather than watch Isabella destroy the estate, Anthony had finally made the decision to leave his home after yet another pointless argument with his father over Isabella’s spending. Her pretty tears always won the day with the old earl. He could deny her nothing and refused to see what was right in front of his eyes.
Anthony had left for London that bitter day. In less than two years, Isabella brought the estate to its knees. When there was nothing more to be gained, she abandoned her husband. The old earl had gone on a mad, drunken binge, which had cost him his life.
When Anthony had received word that he was the new earl, he began the long and difficult process of trying to maintain the estate in some order while deciding on how best to replenish its coffers. All the while, the question of what would have happened had he not left when he did plagued him. Would he eventually have been able to force his father to see the truth? Would he have been able to put a stop to Isabella’s selfishness? Would his father still be alive?
The new Lord Ravenswood was riddled with guilt and determined never to let any woman influence him beyond common sense.
It had taken seven years to build his fortune, but Anthony was a skilled and resourceful dealer in Egyptian artifacts. He had been successful beyond his expectations.
Anthony could not take all the credit, though. He had been fortunate to have Lord Montcross as his partner to teach and guide him. The wizened old man had been his best friend as well as his business partner, and Lord Montcross had seen Anthony through the pain of losing his father.
Of course, Lord Montcross had also saddled him with Eugene.
“Ah, Eugene, is the cat settled, then?”
The servant entered the hall and answered in a low tone. “He is warm and safe in the kitchens with a bellyful of chicken. We are lucky to have Mrs. Ware as cook. She will treat Mihos well.”
The earl flipped through numerous invitations and missives on the hall table. “Good. See that the animal is kept out of my way. You know how I feel about cats.”
The Egyptian servant stood deferentially with his hands clasped behind him. “In Egypt cats have been revered for centuries. When a feline member of the family died, everyone shaved off their eyebrows as a mark of respect.”
Lord Ravenswood paused over one of the notes in the rack. “Shaved off their eyebrows, eh? Deuced unattractive if you ask me.”
Eugene studied the earl carefully. “What was the name of your stepmother’s cat?”
Lord Ravenswood glanced up sharply and faced the servant. “Do you read minds, then, Eugene? Perhaps those cards with the pictures on them you are always fiddling with tell you things.”
Eugene shrugged enigmatically.
“Very well, yes, Isabella did have a cat. He was a large black cat called Brutus. Aptly named, I might add. Devilish sharp teeth and even sharper claws. Spent his life plotting ways to ambush me.”
Eugene slowly nodded his turbaned head. “Had your stepmother been a wise woman, she would have also kept a white cat, for balance. Then the black cat would have been content.”
The earl’s features hardened. “I shall not have that woman referred to once we return to Raven’s Hall. As for the level of Isabella’s intellect, I should say it was unusually high. My father was no fool, but she managed to dupe him nonetheless. His mistake was in letting a pretty face blind him to the fact that intelligence is not a trait to be desired in a woman.”
Eugene leaned forward and listened to this speech intently. “Why is it not a desirable trait?”
“Because clever women are dangerous,” the earl stated flatly.
“Yes, master,” Eugene replied, looking thoughtful.
Lord Ravenswood scowled. “I never liked you referring to me as ‘master’ while we were still in Egypt, and here in England it is even more bothersome. Lord Montcross asked me on his deathbed to see to your future. You are an excellent manservant, but I do not own you.”
Eugene’s face was a passive blank.
Having made his pronouncement, Lord Ravenswood turned back to the table. On the surface a large Chinese bowl sat in stately distinction. The earl put the correspondence aside and carefully raised the bowl to eye level. There, across the front, was a perfect likeness of Raven’s Hall. He had had the bowl commissioned while he was still in Egypt. It had served as a reminder of what he was working for.
The earl’s face softened as he studied the image of his beloved home. “My steward has sent word that the repairs to Raven’s Hall are running ahead of schedule. Before the Season is over, we shall be able to return home, and I shall personally oversee the estate.”
“Excellent news,” Eugene said quietly. “Now all that is needed to ensure the future of Raven’s Hall is an heir. Is that not so?”
His lordship’s mouth tightened. While in Egypt, he had often proclaimed he would never marry. Now, back in England, the need for the heir Eugene spoke of demanded his consideration.
“Indeed,” he replied absently as a picture sprang into his mind of a pair of almond-shaped, light green eyes. Of masses of hair in the richest shade of red imaginable. Of a small nose and full, pink lips. A body that belonged to a courtesan.
And, if her behavior earlier in the evening was any indication, a bright and alert personality that bespoke an astute mind.
No, regardless of how lovely she was. Miss Daphne Kendall could not be a candidate for his countess. He wondered at his own actions regarding her and the cat. He could not understand what had made him intervene on her behalf with Mr. Cuddlipp.
One minute, he recalled, he had been instructing Eugene as to the seating he desired at Astley’s, his gaze snagging momentarily on the odd pin ornamenting the folds of his manservant’s turban. The next minute, or so it seemed, he was ordering a ridiculous amount of blunt to be handed over for a scrawny feline. All for the sake of satisfying an extremely attractive lady he did not even know.
The earl’s grasp on the bowl tightened. Gammon! Was it possible that he could become as soft in the head for a female as his father?
Absolutely not. He would never allow that to happen.
Then he reasoned that being back on English soil had brought out the gentleman in him, whereas in Egypt he had been too busy with business affairs to entertain thoughts of any woman other than the occasional lightskirt. He had been born and bred an English gentleman who would no sooner turn his back on a lady in need than he would kick his own horse. Yes, that was it.
Well, he was obliged to call on Miss Kendall, and to bring Mihos, since he had said he would, and to be polite during the Season’s social functions, where he might encounter her, but that would be the end of any responsibility. Once done with his duty, he could be shot of her.
Neither Miss Kendall nor Mihos would pose a problem.
With this happy thought, his lordship dismissed lady and cat from his mind. He put the bowl down and reached for a particular letter. “I have a note here from Mr. William Bullock. Says he will be showing some of my Egyptian artifacts at his new Egyptian Hall over the next few weeks. I shall have to attend.”
“Yes, master. In the meantime you must call on Miss Kendall.”
“That necessity had already occurred to me, Eugene.” Lord Ravenswood pursed his lips briefly, but directed his attention to the note in his hand. He was surprised by the last few lines. “Good God! Bullock says the Egyptian officials are quite upset about a highly prized statue of Bastet that is missing. Seems they have been around to question him regarding his contacts with dealers. Ugly business. Wonder who could be behind the theft.”