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“Oh, so now you’re best friends, are you?” Alice asked.
“I told you there was nothing to worry about.”
“But how can you be certain? She’s a wild beast.”
“Have you ever visited Tombwell’s Menagerie? They were pitting her against dogs who savaged her cruelly. They took away her claws and she only has a few teeth left, and no fight to speak of. You saw how terrified she was of Kali.”
Alice smiled. “Kali’s very brave.”
And so was his new bride.
A brave, independent lady who went chasing after lions and who would chase her dreams to India.
A fellow had to admire that much spirit in a woman.
It almost made him sorry that she couldn’t have found a more worthy opponent with which to spar.
Instead she’d pledged herself to him. A man who would most likely go insane one day and forget not only their wedding ceremony but her name... her very existence. His father rarely remembered he was married. His forgetfulness and delusions were periodic, but this latest bout had lasted so long that Nick feared he would never regain his grasp on reality.
“Your parents are distraught,” Nick commented. “We should rejoin them.”
Sir Alfred was fanning his wife with her bonnet.
Alice lifted Kali from the ground and they walked together back to her parents.
“This won’t do, Hatherly,” Sir Alfred sputtered as they approached. “I won’t have my daughter’s life endangered. If I had my hunting guns I’d shoot that lion dead.”
“Is it gone?” Lady Tombs asked, her shoulders trembling.
“All’s clear, my dear,” said the baronet.
Lady Tombs raised her head. “Alice. My dear child. You cannot live with a lion.”
“Lioness, Mother. And she’s harmless. Old and feeble with all her teeth and claws filed to bluntness. Why, she was frightened of little Kali.” Alice placed her cat back in its basket and fastened the lid more securely.
Sir Alfred cleared his throat. “Is that true, Hatherly?”
“All true. I rescued her from a traveling menagerie. She’s very old, and very feeble. I can’t believe she escaped from her enclosure. I’ll make sure it’s repaired today.”
“See that you do,” grumbled Sir Alfred.
“Oh,” moaned Lady Tombs. “My nerves. I’m all aquiver.”
“Lady Tombs,” Nick said smoothly, “a small brandy, perhaps? It would have a calming effect.”
She drew herself up regally. “I never imbibe spirits, my lord, and neither does Alice.”
March, Nick’s footman, emerged from the house. “Oh, you’re still here?” He glared at Alice and her parents.
“Found them skulking about the door,” March whispered to Nick, his mouth turned down. “Highly suspicious. We must be vigilant, what with Mr. Stubbs turning traitor, and all.” He waved in Alice’s direction. “Says she’s your wife, but I know you haven’t got a wife.”
“I am his wife,” Alice said.
He had a wife.
It was still an entirely foreign concept to Nick.
A temporary wife, he reminded himself.
