“And I need to take Elisa to her appointment,” Elowen chimed in.
“We’d be delighted to take you girls in the carriage, if you don’t mind squeezing in three to your seat. I’m afraid we’ll quite fill our side!” Mr. Hobbson chuckled as he patted the girth of his belly.
“Sorry, Blanche,” said Mrs. Hobbson, without sounding very sorry. “I’m afraid that the carriage won’t fit any more.”
“Oh, not to worry,” Blanche said, with a little smirk toward Poppy. “Last night, Mr. de la Guerra and I made plans to travel together. We’ll use the gig.”
Poppy had a vision of Carlos and Blanche cuddled up together in the two-person seat, and had to look down at her tea to hide the scowl. So, he’d cooked up that plan last night, had he? It must have happened after he sent her off to her room like a spoiled child!
“Please excuse me,” Poppy said, not wanting to see Blanche’s self-satisfied expression just then. “I have a letter to get into the post, and I left it upstairs.”
She left the breakfast room, intending to write a letter to Mrs. Bloomfield as well, but didn’t get as far as her bedroom, because she was distracted by something outside on the terrace.
As a kitten, Miss Mist had been a tiny ball of fluff, with big innocent eyes that looked out onto the world with the sort of expression that said “I know absolutely nothing and that’s fine.” But now, as a full-grown cat, she’d become sleek, slinky, and deadly. Still grey, but there was nothing fluffy or innocent about her. She stalked her environs with all the confidence of a tiger, and she inspired fear in all rodents. She was also rather picky about who she chose to associate with.
Thus, Poppy was annoyed to discover the cat was now out on the terrace wall…accepting ear scratches from Carlos.
Beyond the lawn, the water sparkled blue, so unlike the dark water last night. It seemed to be a different place altogether. Poppy failed to appreciate it. She charged out to the terrace and demanded, “What are you doing? Miss Mist doesn’t like people.”
“She likes me,” Carlos countered, looking up at Poppy as if there were nothing odd about him sitting there, sipping coffee, with her cat. “And she ought to, considering that I rescued her out of a tree last year.”
“Your finest hour,” Poppy muttered, trying not to picture the scene. It was difficult, because it had been a very fine hour. Carlos, who she’d met only moments prior, had clambered up the tree to retrieve the kitten without hesitation…and also without a shirt, since he’d removed it to avoid getting snagged on a branch. Until that morning, Poppy had never seen a man naked from the waist up.
It was, of course, completely scandalous that he’d done that. But how could she complain when he was handing her a tiny creature he’d just rescued at some personal risk? (Not to mention that Poppy couldn’t complain anyway, being struck speechless by the sight of him.)
And now Miss Mist was purring up a storm, delighted with his attention. Traitor!
“I hear you’re taking Blanche Ainsworth into Treversey,” Poppy said.
“She practically insisted on it,” he agreed blandly. “And since I want to go speak to the magistrate anyway, it won’t be going out of my way.”
Poppy asked, “Does the magistrate have authority to arrest the smugglers?”
“If we knew who they were, yes. But I think the really important issue is to let him know that opium is involved.”
“Maybe I can go to the harbor and look for that ship from last night,” Poppy offered.
Carlos frowned, pausing in his ministrations to the cat. “I’d prefer for you to not get involved.”
“Too late. I’ve already sacrificed a pair of slippers, a gown, and a hair ribbon to the cause. Looking for a ship won’t be too difficult.”
“Let’s meet somewhere and look together,” he suggested. “The thought of you wandering Treversey alone is enough to give me chills. With your luck, you’ll stumble upon the gang and take over operations by dinner time.”
“Or I could seize a ship and become a lady pirate. Like Princess Judith.”
“Who?”
“Oh, it’s an old tale. There’s this princess who gets jilted on her wedding day, and she ends up on a pirate ship, but then she takes over the ship and builds up a crew of all ladies to sail with her, and they win all sorts of sea battles and they rescue a prince from a pirate attack…it was one of my favorite bedtime stories.”
“Yes, I could see that,” he muttered. “Poppy the pirate.”
Just then, Elisa wandered out of the house. When she saw Poppy and Carlos, she smiled and headed toward them.
“Good morning,” she said, sitting down on a chair next to Carlos. Miss Mist promptly abandoned him and strolled over to Elisa, who immediately set the cat in her lap.
“What are you doing today?” Poppy asked, sinking down beside her. (She was not in the least surprised that the cat liked Elisa. Who wouldn’t?)
“I have to go visit Dr. Drake again later. But until we leave, I’m going to watch for birds.”
