Chapter Twenty-Three

Eliot adjusted his tunic and smoothed back his hastily tied hair as he all but ran down the stairs. He still felt stiff after his unexpected sleep on the floor. Without meaning to, he’d fallen asleep by the cat and had been woken by a surprised Perrin in the early hours.

Knowing the family were already sat at breakfast, he paused to compose himself before entering the dining room. He strode in, and Climence paused in her speaking, her expression sour as she threw him a glance.

As Eliot went to the side table to help himself to cold ham and cheese, he met Marcelin’s twinkling gaze and smiled sheepishly. Taking his seat next to a grinning Lina, his attempt at disinterest failed and he hitched up his shoulders.

Climence resumed talking to Marcelin. “Just once, can’t you bring yourself to accompany me to Deandra’s gathering?”

“Why? You know most everyone who usually attends.”

“Because I want you there with me. Is that so much to ask?”

Marcelin didn’t answer immediately as she reached for another roll.

Eliot suspected he knew the real reason Climence wanted Marcelin to go. To stop himself accusing her, he lifted his fork with a larger than usual piece of ham and cheese and thrust it into his mouth.

“These gatherings don’t interest me,” said Marcelin, spreading butter on the roll. “They haven’t done so in a long time.” She turned to look Climence in the eye. “I don’t understand why you’d wish me to go when I’d only be uncomfortable the entire evening. I don’t know these people.”

“You know me and Garlon.” Climence abruptly dropped her gaze.

Eliot pressed his lips together, a gate against the angry words poised to leap out.

As Marcelin began to reply, Climence made a production of reaching for the teapot. “I can’t quite reach it. Marcelin, do be a dear and fill my cup.”

Shaking her head slightly, Marcelin did so.

“What are you going to do with the cat?” asked Lina, replacing her empty teacup on the saucer. “It’s been in the cage for more than a day.”

Eliot could have hugged his sister, asking the very question on the tip of his tongue.

“I don’t know yet.” Climence bit into the slice of cake then dabbed at the edge of her mouth with her napkin.

“It can’t stay in the cage.” Lina frowned at her grandmother.

“I wish to care for it,” said Eliot, dropping a spoonful of strawberry preserve on his roll.

A loud laugh burst from Climence, drowning out Lina’s gasp; Marcelin stared at him.

“Have you finally taken leave of your senses?” Climence sat back, her amusement evident. “You saw its behaviour yesterday. You wish to be torn to pieces?”

“I sat with the cat last night, nothing terrible happened. It even allowed me to stroke its paw.” A puffed-up feeling spread over him, and Eliot struggled not to smirk, enjoying the rare moment of robbing Climence of speech.

She stared at him, open-mouthed.

Out the corner of his eye, he could see Marcelin duck her head, her napkin over her mouth.

Lina, on the other hand, failed to stop herself snorting.

“It’s settled then, I’ll take the cat.”

Immediately after breakfast, Eliot decided to take the cat out into the garden.

The two servants carrying the cat in its cage looked as if they were about to drop it and flee. But the animal remained on its belly, its head resting on its front paws, seemingly disinterested in them and its surroundings.

Eliot preceded them, leading the way to the fragile-looking, wrought-iron gate leading to the secluded part of the garden. Hearing his name, he glanced back to see Lina hurrying towards him from the garden room.

“I thought you were going to take the cat to your room.”

He nodded. “I then thought it might like to be out-of-doors for a while.”

“The look on Grandmother’s face when you said the cat had allowed you to touch it, I thought I’d burst from trying not to laugh.”

Eliot chuckled. “It barely ever happens, but it is satisfying to leave her speechless.”

As they neared the gate, Lina said, “Did you mean to sleep on the floor by the cat?”

“No,” he said with a rueful smile. “I couldn’t sleep so thought to keep it company. Next thing, Perrin was waking me.” Rolling his shoulders, he continued, “I wouldn’t recommend it. I have never felt so stiff.”

As they walked through the gate, a voice hailed him and Lina.

They turned as Renard approached.

“This is a nice surprise,” said Lina, smiling.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about the cat and wanted to see what had been decided about it.” He leaned down and kissed her lightly on the cheek. “I stopped by to see if Minette wanted to come, she couldn’t stop talking about it yesterday when I escorted her home.”

Lina raised her brows. “At this hour?”

Rubbing the back of his neck, he wrinkled his nose. “Her mother did make a pointed remark about it only being mid-morning. Minette wanted to come, but her family are off to Mariosha for the day, visiting relatives.”

“Poor Minette.” Lina’s mouth briefly turned down as she followed Eliot into the garden surrounded by high hedges.

Renard glanced back at the men with the cage. “Your grandmother has allowed you to take the cat?”

Before Eliot could reply, Lina told Renard about Eliot and the cat.

Eliot stopped the servants as they were about to set the cage down on one of the stone seats. “Not there. Set it down there first.” He pointed towards the far end.

“Why over there?” said Lina.

Not taking his eyes off the men as they did his bidding, he answered, “It might want to relieve itself. Hopefully it’ll do so when it feels the grass.”

After the cat was done, Eliot instructed the men to place the cage on the grass by the stone seats.

Lina failed to stifle her chuckle as the two sturdily built men scurried away without waiting for Eliot to dismiss them, slamming the gate shut on their way out.

“Who would have thought a cat would have such an effect on grown men?” Renard sniggered, lowering himself on the seat, his left leg stretched out before him.

The day was overcast, but the sun could still be seen, a ghostly orb behind the clouds.

“I wish I could let it out,” said Eliot, making himself comfortable on the grass next to the cage as Lina sat next to Renard.

“What if it runs away?” said Lina.

Eliot sighed. “I don’t know which is worse, leaving it in the cage where in a manner of speaking, its safe or releasing it. If I could be sure it knew how to find its way home.” He left the sentence unfinished.

“It’ll probably be hunted,” said Renard, “by that brute, Garlon, no doubt.”

Lina chuckled then shook her head when Eliot frowned at her. “I’m not laughing about the cat being hunted, but Garlon’s reaction when the cat tore his trousers.”

Their loud merriment caused the cat to look up.

“It was a struggle, trying not to laugh,” said Renard.

“From the strange sounds she kept making, I think Minette was holding her breath,” said Lina, still grinning.

As their laughter died down, Eliot said, “Did you notice Garlon’s expression when Climence asked if he wanted to take the cat?”

Lina shook her head, but Renard nodded slowly as he said, “He looked angry.”

“And that seemed to make her flustered,” said Eliot. “I wonder if Garlon knows the tall-folk they’ve targeted. If there’s something about this cat he’s not revealing.”

“It is strange,” said Lina. “He and Grandmother came up with this plan, yet he didn’t tell her that Jack would be stealing the cat and not the harp.”

Eliot looked up at Renard. “You told Uncle Bertran that Jack has stolen again?”

“He was furious. He said he’ll discuss matters with the captain again, see if they can come up with a better plan.”

As they lapsed into silence, Eliot extended his fingers into the cage and rubbed the side of the cat’s face. It nudged his hand with the top of its head. He moved to stroke it on the head, and it seemed to relax.

“It likes you,” said Lina, smiling.

“I have to admit, I’m fast becoming fond of it.”

“Who wouldn’t?” said Renard. “It’s a beautiful animal.”

Nodding, Eliot’s chest tightened at the thought of the tall-folk worrying over the missing cat.

The clouds began to thin, drifting apart to let shafts of sunlight spear through. The cat lifted its head and looked around. Its gaze more focussed, it stretched its front legs and shuffled forward to paw at the grass.

Lina got off the seat and, arranging her skirt under her, sat next to Eliot. “Do you think it would let me touch it?”

“I don’t see why not if it let me.”

“Do it slowly,” said Renard. “Let it smell you first like we do with the dogs.”

Still, she hesitated.

“Here.” Eliot held her hand, let the cat smell the top of his before turning his hand so hers was on top.

The cat laid its ears flat against its head then pricked them up again.

Trembling, Lina stroked its paw with her finger.

“You can breathe, you know,” said Eliot softly.

“It’s so soft.” Her voice shook slightly.

“Are you going to keep it with you, in your room?”

Eliot met Renard’s gaze and nodded. “I’m hoping if I let it out in the bedchamber, it’ll feel comfortable enough and not try to get out.”