Roger gasped.
Zut, zut, zut.
That darn cat.
“Fannie, you know you aren’t supposed to bring him.” He rounded the table, reached out, and grabbed the creature by its backside.
“Careful—” The snicking sound of ripping silk rang through the air. Horror marred Miss Teres’s beautiful face as the cat’s claws shredded the front of her gown.
The table grew silent. Or almost.
“What’s happening?” the older Teres son whispered to the younger one.
“Lee’s dress got ripped,” his sibling explained.
“How?” the first asked.
“Cat,” the other returned.
His brother grimaced. “I hope they’re decent enough to fix matters. Or Lee’s going to be upset,” he added, his tone ominous.
Time to correct matters. Posthaste.
“I—” Roger moved toward Miss Teres, but she shrank away, staring at his hand. What—he glanced at the appendage. Oh, right, he was still holding the cat. He placed the little beast in Fannie’s outstretched arms.
“He was going to be lonely without me,” his daughter said with a pout returning to her seat.
“We shall discuss this later,” he told Fannie. He turned back to his hopefully still soon-to-be-betrothed. “I do apologize, Miss Teres.”
“It’s quite all right.” She pulled her arms around herself. “I’m just not particularly…” Miss Teres’s swallow was visible. “I just…” She glanced down at her gown. “I’m afraid I’m no longer properly attired.” Her nostrils flared, and she smoothed her skirts again and again, as if she was calming herself.
“We shall most certainly replace it,” Roger declared quickly. “We’re terribly sorry, aren’t we, Fannie?”
“Yes, very,” his daughter said. “And so is Rose,” she said, sticking the creature right in Miss Teres’s face. The girl squawked, jumping back, the stringy fabric of her ruined bodice bouncing.
“Fannie,” Roger admonished.Merde.This was getting out of hand. “Miss Teres, I—”
“Little beast,” Miss Teres screamed, her voice piercing the air. Anger marred her features as she turned toward Fannie. “Keep thatcreature away from me,” she snapped, loud enough that his daughter winced. If only for a moment. Then a familiar pugnacious look came into her eye.
Fuck.
“I’m sure she will in the future,” Roger reassured Miss Teres, stepping between the two.
Calmerai, calmeras, calmera, calmerons…
“I should hope so.” Miss Teres glared at the cat. “I presume it sleeps in the barn?” she asked with a derisive sniff.
“Rose sleeps with me,” Fannie retorted, squeezing the feline, who hissed in Miss Teres’s direction.
Roger glanced at his brother for help, but David was staring at the tableau, his face unreadable. No one else at the table even moved.
Useless. Absolutely useless.
“We shall see about that,” Miss Teres snapped.
“What did you say?” his daughter demanded, marching toward the woman, rage in her eyes.
“Fannie—” Roger grabbed the cat out of her hands so he could keep the thing secure for once.
