by Splendid You
She slipped inside the room, through a space too narrow for anything but a cat. They had left the far door slightly ajar. An-ket eased back onto her hind legs and hooked a forepaw around (he door, pulling it open just enough to insinuate herself through. It was strange to be able to compress and lengthen one’s body at need.
The house smelled stale, as though it had been sealed as tightly as a tomb for a long time. To a human, the darkness of the hall would have required outstretched arms and tentative fingertips brushing along a wall for guidance. To An-ket, slit pupils opened wide, all was clear and easy. She twitched an ear toward the scrabbling sound of mice in the walls. Her cat instincts went on alert, as her hollow stomach informed her that this chance of a meal was too good to miss.
But An-ket ignored her small body’s needs as she halted. The two young people stood at the foot of the stairs—strange to notice how little stairs had changed— still talking. Above them, a single globe glowed with light, so that their faces were illuminated, while their feet were in shadow. An-ket could come very close to them without either person being aware of her.
“Will you return home to Yorkshire at once?” Simon asked. “If not, I would be honored to show you the exhibition as I had promised.”
“Thank you. I don’t think I will go home for a little while yet. Tomorrow I will find some servants ... do you happen to know of a good employment bureau?”
“Mother probably will be able to give you some name or other, but surely you can’t mean to set up a household in London without some decent woman to give you her companionship?”
Before she could answer, he held up his hand and said, “I know ... I know. You will do what you think is best, no doubt.”
“Yes, but at the same time, you are right. I should have someone if only to prevent my neighbors from shunning me. Do you have a maiden aunt by any chance who would care to come have a holiday in London at my expense?”
An-ket rolled her eyes toward heaven. At this rate, they’d still be standing there when the Great God of the Sun drove his chariot into the sky! Out came An-ket’s claws.
“Aagh!” Simon exclaimed sharply, staggering forward.
Surprised, Julia moved back hastily, only to trip over the fleeing cat. Without a second’s hesitation, Simon grabbed her, keeping her from falling by pulling her into his arms. Though he’d acted on instinct to save her from harm, his body reacted as though his need was to kiss her. His hands were filled with her warmth, while the perfume of her hair flooded him. Slowly he brought her upright, his eyes fixed on hers, as he realized that kissing Julia was a very good idea indeed.
Julia had always preferred to keep her feet on solid ground, but being off-balance in Simon Archer’s arms was deliciously exciting. Such excitement was dangerous. It made her head swim so that she could no longer keep sight of what was important.
Though she’d rather cold-bloodedly plotted to marry him, she’d never thought beyond the realization of her dream of a career. Now she realized there was more to Simon than science.
Looking up into his eyes, she saw his intellectual gifts change their focus. A new kind of curiosity increased the blue intensity of his eyes as they studied her mouth. With what seemed to be calculated slowness, he raised one hand and drew the back of his forefinger down the slope of her cheek. His touch was feather-light, as if he handled some fragile treasure newly exposed to the day.
She couldn’t speak or move away. Her limbs felt heavy and without will. A raving need to know more of his touch had taken possession of her, but she could not form the words to ask for what she wanted. She could only hope that he knew more than she.
With each touch melding into the next, he traced the swell of her lower lip with the tips of his fingers. Julia gripped his forearms, afraid to fall if he failed to hold her. It was there she first knew that he intended to kiss her, when the muscles of his arms tightened under her hands.
He moved his hand under the heavy mass of her hair, to thrust his fingers into the cool, entangling mass of curls.
“Julia,” he said, and his voice rasped as though he were engaged in a ruthless struggle.
She curled her fingers into his shoulders, closing what little space still remained between them. Along with nervous qualms, she felt an impatience with his deliberate speed. Wondering why she had hesitated to act, she lifted her face toward his. Then the light that fell around them increased as someone on the landing above turned up the gaslight. Instantly Simon stepped back, releasing her so quickly he might as well have thrown her.
Julia looked up, blinking, as dazed as an owl in daylight. She saw Mrs. Archer looking down at them, her thin brows raised. “Whatever are you doing down there so late? Simon? It’s after four!”
“I had not meant to wake you, Mother. Miss Hanson was hungry, and so was I.”
“Hungry?”
“We had overlooked dinner. We are going to bed....” He coughed as though the words had caught in his throat. “That is, Miss Hanson is very tired.”
“Yes, I am,” Julia said clearly, placing her foot on the bottom step. Looking back at Simon, she asked, “What time tomorrow shall we go to the museum?”
“Sleep as late as you care to. Everything is ready and if I go in early, I’ll just fuss about.”
Mrs. Archer said, “You don’t know what a compliment that is, Miss Hanson. Usually Simon is waiting outside his precious museum before it even opens.”
To her surprise, Mrs. Archer seemed much less hostile than she had earlier. Julia wondered what had caused so sudden a change.
On reaching the landing, Julia said, “I’m not certain that I thanked you properly for allowing me to stay in your home overnight, Mrs. Archer. Tomorrow I shall open my house in Carderock Square, provided I can find some servants.”
Simon, climbing toward them, said, “Yes, Mother. Can you recommend a good employment bureau?”
“I wish that I could, but they are usually dreadful! A really good servant shouldn’t require the use of such a place!” Mrs. Archer looked askance at Julia’s ankles. “You must be cold, my dear. Hurry back to bed. Don’t worry about tomorrow. I shall have my maid bring you breakfast in bed at whatever hour you ring.”
Her new cordiality was so marked that even Simon noticed it. One fair brow rose in surprise as he glanced between the two women. “You’d better go back to bed yourself, Mother, or you’ll be fit for nothing in the morning. I’ll make sure Miss Hanson reaches her room safely.”
Julia smiled at them both with equal warmth. “It’s only a step. Good night—again!”
As she turned to leave them, she idly glanced down the stairs. There, at the edge of the pool of light, she saw the cat walking, hardly more solid than a shadow. She found herself divided between a hope that An-ket would visit her again, and a nearly overwhelming need for sleep. Her long day had been followed by a tiring night, and she wanted nothing more now than to rest her head on a pillow. Though if Simon Archer looked at her again with that vivid light in his eyes, she felt somehow that her tiredness would vanish in a heartbeat.
Behind her, Mrs. Archer caught her breath so sharply that Julia spun about, staring. The older woman lifted a shaking hand to point down the stairs. “C-c-cat!” she stuttered, the word rising into a shriek.
“Now, Mother. , .” Simon said, without effect.
Mrs. Archer shrank back, the back of her hand against her mouth, her wide eyes rolling wildly. “Chase it away! What is it doing in here? Chase it away!”
An-ket had seated herself in the center of the pool of light and gazed upwards, as still as a cat carved of ebony. Only the flickering glow in her amber eyes showed as a sign of life. To hear Mrs. Archer, however, one would have thought the small alley cat was a ferocious tiger stalking her.
“My mother dislikes cats,” Simon said in explanation as he slipped his arm about Mrs. Archer’s waist. His mother began sobbing on his shoulder.
“Dislikes? She sounds terrified!”
“That, yes.”
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All but simultaneously, three doors on the landing swung open, disgorging three young ladies into the hallway. Two were enveloped in flowery wrappers, the third was fully dressed except for her shoes. They all had long hair flowing down their backs, straight, sleek, and elegant even in dishabille. If for no other reason, Julia could envy the Archer sisters for their hair.
The smallest, and roundest, of the three stepped close to her mother, looking with worried eyes at Simon. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s a cat in the house. Mother saw it.”
“A cat!” exclaimed the one that was fully dressed, peering about her. “Where?”
“Come, Mother,” said the smallest sister. “Come with me.”
“Oh, yes, Jane. Lock the door so it can’t get in.”
“Lucy,” Simon said. “Please go down and chase it out of here. I’ll help Jane tend to Mother.”
“Come on,” said the third sister, Amanda. “We’ll have better luck if we both look.”
Julia said, “I’ll help too, shall I?”
The two sisters just looked at her in surprise. They were remarkably pretty girls, fair like their brother and with similarly blue eyes. But where Simon’s eyes were stern and piercing, the girls’ wore a milder expression. Amanda’s were half-hidden behind a pair of silver-framed glasses riding atop a small nose. She smiled at Julia, both quizzical and amiable.
Lucy seemed to droop where she stood. She was fairly tall for a woman, though her bent shoulders took an inch or so off what should be her natural height. In repose, the corners of her mouth turned down. Looking at her, Julia’s hands itched. She wanted to grab the girl and give her a good shaking—but that would never do.
“Why, who are you?” Amanda asked.
“My name is Julia Hanson. I am an acquaintance of your brother’s.”
Even Lucy’s lackluster eyes widened at this. “You’re Simon’s mysterious Miss Hanson?”
“I seem to be.”
“But you’re not ninety!” Amanda blurted.
“Amanda!” her sister said, putting her hand against the other’s arm. “Don’t be so gauche! Please excuse her, Miss Hanson. My brother has not said a great deal about you.”
“He’s been as quiet as a clam,” Amanda added, irrepressibly.
Lucy said, “I’m sorry none of us were here to welcome you when you arrived. Simon must have forgotten to tell us you would be staying with us. I’m so very pleased you are here.”
“I hardly knew I would be staying myself. Mr. Archer persuaded me that I would not be putting anyone out by coming.”
“Oh, definitely not!” Lucy was indeed much improved by vivacity. When lost in her own thoughts, the other two eclipsed her. Drawn out of herself by even so minor a conversation, she held her head up and her cheeks brightened. Of the three girls, she had the greatest potential for beauty. Her face was a piquant heart shape, her skin as flawless as peach velvet.
Jane opened her mother’s door an inch or two. “Have you put it out yet?”
“No,” Amanda called. “Not yet.”
“Well, hurry! Mother will never calm herself until you tell her it’s quite gone.”
‘Then tell her it is,” Julia said.
“Oh, no!” Lucy looked horrified. “We never lie to Mother.”
“But if it will ease her ... oh, very well. Let us go find the cat.”
Since Julia felt certain An-ket would come to her when she called, it surprised her when, after a few minutes calling “hi, puss, puss” the cat came purring up to Lucy. The girl bent and lifted the seemingly boneless body into her arms. She cuddled the cat against her bosom. “There, now.”
“You like cats,” Julia said, stating an evident fact.
“Yes, I adore them. Old maids are supposed to, aren’t they?” Her voice was sharp with bitterness. Cuddling the cat under one arm, she approached the front door.
“Wait,” Julia said, not wanting to lose her chance to speak again with An-ket. She wanted to ask her to pay a visit to Simon, to convince him, for both their sakes, that what Julia said was true. “Why not give the cat to me? It can stay in my room and then in the morning, it can leave with me.”
“No. Mother would find out and she truly is terrified of cats. It’s beyond reason.”
Amanda hurried, in response to a glance, to unlock the door and throw it open. “Poor old thing,” Lucy said, bending down to put the cat onto the stone threshold. “I wish we could ...”
She held the position, cat still in her hands, and stared across the street. Behind her, Julia looked to see what had so engaged the other girl’s attention. Judging by her rigidity and appalled expression, Julia expected to see nothing less than a sheeted spectre.
She saw nothing more portentous than a black carriage pulled up in front of a similar town house. A man was in the act of descending. He was tall, graceful, and the light spilling from the Archer home reflected from the gold braid decorating his shoulders, sleeves, and breast. Despite the lateness of the hour, he showed not a trace of weariness.
Then he, too, looked about him and saw the three young ladies posed in the doorway. He already carried his uniform hat under his arm so he could not sweep it off, yet he made a profound bow. Julia couldn’t help smiling, any more than she could help noticing that the other two girls seemed stricken with paralysis. Holding up the pride of womanhood, Julia dipped a curtsey.
The cat, seeming to lose its docility, wrenched free of Lucy’s grip with a wide-mouthed hiss. Lucy seemed to shake off her inertia and stepped quickly back, shutting the door with an emphatic bang.
“Did you hear ... bells?” Amanda asked.
“I don’t believe so,” Julia said. “Who was that very nice-looking young man?”
With a sideways glance at her silent sister, Amanda said, “Our neighbor’s son, Major Robert Winslow. He’s attached to the court, you know, and always attending the most elegant parties.” She giggled faintly. “His name is forever appearing in the Court Circular. I think the prince is quite fond of him.”
She nodded toward Lucy as though to say that Prince Albert was not the only one fond of Robert Winslow. Julia thought this an interesting piece of news. She wondered if Simon knew of it.
Suddenly, she was caught unawares by a huge yawn. “Oh! I beg your pardon. Perhaps we should tell your mother that the cat is out... and then I’m going to retire.”
At the door to her room, Julia was startled when Amanda kissed her cheek, as fleeting as a butterfly landing on a wind-waving flower. “My sisters and I are so very, very glad that you have come!”
“You are?”
“Oh, yes. We dearly love our brother, you know. He can be stern ...” She shook her head slightly. “Well, never mind that! What I mean to say is, any friend of Simon is our friend too. Isn’t that right, Lucy?”
The solemn girl inclined her head graciously as she entered her own room. Amanda gave vent to her soft giggle once more. “Never mind her. She’s blighted, you know. It’s very sad.”
Knowing she’d regret it, Julia asked, “How is she blighted?”
“Love,” Amanda whispered, then shrugged. “I intend to avoid it, myself. It seems to cause nothing but complications!”
Closing her door at last, Julia could only echo that sentiment. Thinking of the look in Simon’s eyes when he’d almost... what? Had he intended to kiss her? She certainly had been planning to do just that.
One more instant and she would have been part of an irrevocable act that would have changed them both forever. So much safer not to kiss him. So much wiser not to give in to such an unreserved emotion. Keeping a cool head was so important for a girl.
Yet, as she lay down on her pillow, she wondered what wonderful thing might have happened if they had been given just that one more instant of time?
Chapter Ten
Across the way, Robert Winslow stooped to cat-stealing. It was not the action of an officer or a gentleman, but of a man desperately in love. Had it really been two years s
ince he’d last spoken to Lucy Archer? The lost time had telescoped into an instant when he descended from his father’s carriage to see her at the door of her house. He had believed himself to be over her. He now knew he’d been deceiving himself.
The cat waited until the carriage had driven off before running as if on tiptoe across the gleaming street. It stepped lightly between the iron railings that separated the front steps of one house from the one next to it. Robert carefully noted the place, then entered his own home.
There were bound to be scraps from dinner. If he could just entice the cat into range ...
He carried a plate of chosen morsels outside, carefully keeping the grease from soiling his dress uniform. Making what he hoped were alluring sounds, he laid the plate down on the concrete walk and stepped back.
The cat had no qualms about being bribed. It choked down the food with such rapidity that Robert said, “Here now. Be careful.”
Capturing the creature was surprisingly easy. When its pink tongue had given the plate a final polish, Robert simply picked up the plate. The cat stood below him, looking up. It shifted on its paws as if hoping against hope.
“Come on, then.”
The cat trotted along behind, its attention riveted to the plate Robert bore away. Robert kept chatting to it, promising it all sorts of delicious viands and beverages if it would only follow him into the house. Even then, he was not sure what he was about. He had some idea that Lucy would come looking for her cat and in that way, he could again be admitted to her friendship.
“Robert?” his father called.
“Sir? I’m sorry I woke you.”
“I wasn’t asleep.” Tying his robe about his waist, General Winslow came limping down the staircase. “I was working on my memoirs.”
“How goes it, sir?”
“Well enough, well enough. What’s that?”
Robert looked down to where the cat was twining itself around his ankles, no doubt making a hairy mess of his uniform trousers. “It’s a cat.”