Page 21 of A Much Maligned Miss

“I did. I won them in a hand of poker.”

Caroline lowered her teacup. “You won them?”

“I did. From an ostler called Ezekiel. I will make you a present of one of them, if you like.” He ran a finger over one tiny head. “The spotted one is called Remus and the striped, Romulus.”

“Really?” She sat up in her chair. Before he could reply, she said quickly, “Not that I could possibly accept such a gift. I do not yet know how I will support myself, let alone provide for another. But just in theory, if I were to take you up on your generous offer, which one would be mine?”

“Perhaps Romulus,” he mused, scooping the stripy cat up. “I believe I like Remus’s spots far too much to part with him.”

She frowned, setting her cup down on a side table. “You should not speak of separating them, my lord. Not after giving them such names. They are named after the twins from antiquity, are they not?”

“They are,” he agreed, watching the spotted kitten roll over onto its back and stretch out its little paws.

“Were they not suckled by a she-wolf? And did not one of them found the city of Rome?”

Remus’s mouth opened in a soundless meow. “Yes, those are the ones,” Gervaise confirmed.

“Well, there you have it, then,” Caroline insisted, stripping off her blanket. He noticed she was fully dressed beneath it. The question was, had she fled the bed in the middle of the night, overtaken with maidenly fears, or had she simply woken and dressed betimes?

She approached the bed and sat down on the edge, reaching over to stroke Romulus. Gervaise suffered a strange and momentary disappointment. For an instant, he had thought she had been reaching for him. He watched her pet the cat through his lashes for a long moment before clearing his throat. “Can you take the twins? I need to get up and wash.”

“There isn’t any water I’m afraid—” she began when a knock on the door startled them both. “Ah, this must be it now,” she said, scooping up both cats, one under each arm, and retreating to the other side of the bedchamber.

“Mornin’,” the maid greeted them, eyes downcast as she carried a large jug of steaming water into the room. “Mrs. Dawkins said as to inform you your breakfast will be served in the same parlor as last night’s supper.”

“Thank you,” Gervaise responded as she placed the jug on the washstand.

“Good morning,” Caroline said a trifle shyly. She angled her body to try to keep the cats out of view but from the maid’s checked step and carefully blank expression, Gervaise deduced she had spotted them all the same.

As soon as the door closed behind her, Gervaise climbed out of the bed and made his way to the washstand to begin his shave. Caroline gave a discreet cough. “I shall venture downstairs and give you room to dress, my lord,” she said helpfully. “Shall I leave the kittens with you?”

“You had better take one of them with you,” he said over his shoulder. “I will bring down the other anon.”

She crossed the room and placed one small cat back on the bed and then tucked the other into the crook of her arm. “I shall take Romulus, then,” she said, “leaving Remus to you. Which parlor is yours?”

“Ours,” he corrected her. “We’re married, remember? Don’t act too surprised when they address you as your ladyship.”

Looking rather appalled by this communication, she gulped and nodded. “We shall see you belowstairs,” she managed to gasp out, then fled.

Interesting, thought Gervaise. Perhaps the lady was not so calm and unruffled as she would have him believe. When he joined her in their parlor twenty minutes later, he found her eating toast and marmalade whilst surreptitiously feeding bits of flaky fish to Romulus, who lay in her lap under the table.

Seeing such signs of favor, Remus started struggling in Gervaise’s arms, emitting faint meows and attempting to make a leap for the table. “You will have to take him,” he said, dropping the squirming fluffball into her lap. “He is outraged by your blatant favoritism.”

“My favoritism?” she queried as the kittens rearranged themselves in her lap. “I have no favorites here, I assure you. Here, Remus,” she crooned soothingly. “There’s plenty for you too.”

Gervaise took his seat opposite her and poured himself a cup of coffee. Caroline, he noticed, was already halfway through another cup of tea. He lifted the first of the dish covers to reveal thick sliced ham and scrambled eggs. After helping himself liberally to both, he peered under the second cloche and found baked haddock topped with poached eggs. Grimacing, he pushed this away and reached for toast instead.

“You do not care for fish?” Caroline said, spooning more of it onto a side plate.

“Not before midday.”

“I shall not feel guilty, then, for feeding it to the twins.” She placed her dish on the floor at her feet and set the cats down beside it. Leaning her elbow on the table, she arranged herself so that she could watch over them.

“You are finished eating already?” he asked. “Is that all you’ve had? Toast and marmalade?”

“I only ever eat toast and fruit for breakfast,” she answered, reaching again for the teapot and topping up her cup. “Tell me, how many miles will we cover today?”

“Just under eighty. The aim is to reach Bath tonight.”