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“What do you want?”
The cat shrugged. Elizabeth hadn’t known that a cat could shrug, but then again, she hadn’t thought she’d ever find herself sitting in Danbury House’s great hall, talking to her feline nemesis.
“You think I’m ridiculous, don’t you?”
Malcolm yawned.
“I’ve agreed to let Mr. Siddons train me to find a husband.”
The cat’s ears perked forward.
“Yes, I know you like him better than me. You like everyone better than me.”
The cat shrugged again, clearly unwilling to contradict her statement.
“You think I can’t do it, don’t you?”
Malcolm made a rolling motion with his tail. Elizabeth was at a complete loss to translate this, but given the cat’s well-documented distaste for her, she tended to believe it meant, “I have a better chance of finding a husband than you do.”
“Elizabeth?”
She turned beet-red and jerked her head to the side. James had poked his head through the library door and was regarding her quizzically.
“Are you talking to the cat?”
“No.”
“I could have sworn I heard you talking to the cat.”
“Well, I’m not.”
“Oh.”
“Why would I talk to the cat? He hates me.”
His lips twitched. “Yes. So you said.”
She tried to pretend she didn’t realize that her cheeks were burning. “Don’t you have something to do?”
“Ah, yes, the lesson plans. I shall see you a bit after half four.”
Elizabeth waited until she heard the library door click shut. “Dear God,” she breathed. “I have gone insane. Completely insane.”
Adding insult to injury, the cat nodded.
Chapter 10
James arrived at the front gate at a quarter past four, knowing he was ridiculously early, but somehow unable to stop his feet from carrying him to the appointed meeting site. He had felt restless all afternoon, constantly drumming his fingers on tables and pacing across rooms. He had tried to sit down and write out the lesson plan he had bragged about, but the words would not come.
He had no experience in training a young lady for society. The only young lady he really knew was the wife of his best friend, Blake Ravenscroft. And Caroline hadn’t precisely been trained for society herself. As for all of his other female acquaintances—they were just the sort Mrs. Seeton was trying to mold Elizabeth into. Just the sort that had prompted his overwhelming relief at leaving London.
What was it he wanted in a woman? His quest to help Elizabeth seemed to beg the question. What was it he wanted in a wife? He had to marry; there was no arguing fate in that respect. But it had been so damned hard to imagine spending the rest of his life with a shy flower who was afraid to express an opinion.
Or worse, a shy flower who didn’t even possess an opinion.
And the final twist of the bayonet was that those opinionless young ladies invariably came with extremely opinionated mothers.
He wasn’t being fair, he forced himself to concede. He’d met a few young ladies who were interesting. Not many, but a few. One or two of them he even could have married without fearing that he was ruining his life. It wouldn’t have been a love match, and there would have been no grand passion, but he could have been passably content.
