CHAPTER 20
Isla was busy most of her time.
It was a lovely estate, there was no denying that. And the household, although small for a place of this size, was committed and friendly and endlessly curious about her.
She brought in flowers most days from the garden, just a few to brighten up the estate. Then she would enjoy rides after breaking her fast. By then, Oliver would be up and dressed, so she could give Anne some time to rest while she played with the lad.
“Careful!” She called, laughing when he scrambled backwards down the long stairs. Her hands held up the long skirts of her gown to follow after him. If she wasn’t making up a game for them, he was finding one as well. “Not too fast!”
“Fast! Fast! Fast!” He chanted.
It was impossible not to love the boy. Isla’s heart warmed whenever he smiled at her. Which was often. He wanted for nothing, always desiring the simplest little things. And the way he learned everything so quickly… Isla tried to remember how she had helped raise Lacey. Her sister was just as energetic as Oliver was. Half the time, Isla felt she needed a break herself while with him.
“Your Grace?” Hobbes appeared at the bottom of the stairs, putting a hand on Oliver’s shoulder before the boy could run. “You’ll want to stay for this, lad. You’ve a treat in store.”
“Treats! I want treats.”
Lifting an eyebrow, Isla reached the bottom step. “And what sort of treat do we have in store for us?”
Hobbes glanced at her, then Oliver, then toward the side hall. “A most… interesting delivery. By the door. We can deliver it to the barn if you like.”
“The barn?” Isla wasn’t certain she understood. “You have me intrigued. Oliver, shall we go see?” She scooped up his hand before he could run off, keeping him from discovering what was going on before her.
The butler trailed behind them. Hobbes was a funny sort of fellow who amused her most of the time. He had been here longer than most of the staff, she had learned. He was also closer to Ronan than anyone else where. On the occasion she could findher husband, Hobbes was the one person who she ever found in his presence.
But I won’t be jealous. Not of the butler. No, if Ronan wants to keep to himself, that is his decision. Only… a few meals a week shouldn’t be too much to task for. I don’t like feeling as though I’m sitting beside a stranger when we attend church.
All thoughts dissipated when she found a familiar basket sitting by the door. Her heart picked up.
“They didn’t,” she whispered.
Hobbes cleared his throat. “I believe they did?”
“Who?” Oliver asked.
“Stay here,” she instructed, leaving him a few feet away. Getting down on her knees, she tugged a small card off the basket. Only a few words were confirmed by her mother saying they had no use or time for a cat, no matter what Margaret and Lacey said. It was, after all, Isla’s pet. “Very well, Mother. Hector, is that you, darling?”
A loud and rather upset meow escaped the basket. Oliver gasped and hurried forward. He leaned over her shoulder. She smelled the cinnamon from his morning pastry on his breath as she carefully unlatched the basket.
There he was in his fat orange glory. Hector gave a baleful meow before jumping free of the basket.
“Cat!” Oliver made a grab for him.
Isla wrapped her arms around him just in time, pulling him securely into her lap. The cat remained free as he started to look around in disdain at what would be his new home. “Careful, please,” Isla whispered to the boy. “That is a cat, you’re very right. He’s not too happy right now, I’m afraid. He came on a long journey to be here with us.”
“He’s a sad kitty?”
“Yes, that’s right. This is a very strange place to him since he has never been here. Let’s give him some grace to explore, shall we? You can stay close, but don’t touch him until he comes to you,” Isla instructed him.
There was no pulling the lad away after that. Even when Anne came to collect him, Oliver couldn’t be bribed away from following Hector around on his hands and knees.
Three hours later, she was watching him watching Hector sleep in the window when Ronan came to her.
He glanced at the cat in mild surprise and then tilted his head toward Oliver. “What is he doing?
“Watching.”
“Very well.” He stood there for a moment and then said, “We have an appointment tomorrow afternoon. The Earl and Countess of Duneve live in the next township, and they have invited us to a garden party.”
