Dangerous Joy (21 page)

"Male pride," she said innocently. "I understand perfectly."

"As if you were lacking in pride."

They were smiling as they turned the corner where the stable lane joined the carriage path around the house. Smiling as they came face to face with Annie Monahan, glowering massively in a heavy mud-colored woolen cloak. Miles thought for a moment that she had a brindled cat in her arms, but then realized it was an enormous fur muff.

"Laughing," she accused, "and the poor dear creature in such distress!"

It took Miles a moment to realize what she meant. "I'm sorry about Gardeen."

"So I should think! You should have taken better care of her."

"True enough. But none of us came through unscathed."

Felicity chimed in, "It was my fault, Aunt."

"I have no doubt of it. You've always been a careless girl." She fished in the enormous fur muff, pulled out a smaller one, and gave it to Miles.

Then he realized it was warm, alive, black...

"Gardeen?" he asked. Then felt idiotic.

"And who else would it be?" Annie demanded acidly. "The poor creature staggered home

yesterday bedraggled and exhausted. You should have known she would try to follow you."

"But..." Miles looked at Felicity, and she put out a wondering hand to stroke the warm fur.

She answered his unspoken question. "I don't know."

"Take care of her this time," Annie barked. "You won't get another chance."

"I thought cats had nine lives," Miles said.

Annie's eyes narrowed. "And what makes you think any human is given more than one of them?" She turned and tramped off up the drive toward the house.

"Oh, dear, she is in a state," Felicity said.

"So am I. What the devil..." Miles raised the small cat to look into its silvery eyes. Unblinking cat's eyes stared back, but whether the message was Why did you abandon me? or Why did you let me get killed? he could not tell.

In silent accord, Miles and Felicity went to the herb garden, to the little mound marked by white stones. He noted that the dogs paid no homage, but snuffled around after intriguing smells.

"I buried a cat here," Miles said, aware of the black cat warm in his hands. He looked at Felicity.

"Oh, no!" she protested. "If you think I had time or inclination to be finding an identical little black cat...and why, for Erin's sake, would I want to?"

"I don't know. But I hardly studied the corpse. Perhaps it wasn't very like Gardeen at all."

Her face stilled with anger. "Miles Cavanagh, I'll tell you this once and once only. The cat in my pocket was the one that was killed, and the one whose body I gave to you. Perhaps we picked up a stray cat on the way and just assumed it was Gardeen."

"Perhaps." But Miles didn't believe it. He looked at the cat again, but Gardeen-or Gardeen II-just purred contentedly.

They returned to the house to find that Annie was staying for a few nights, though grumbling about missing her cats.

Aideen looked at the small black cat in Miles's arm and raised a brow. "I've never known you to be fond of the creatures before."

"I'm not sure if I'm fond of them now." But Miles's finger touched the silky fur of its own volition. "This one seems to have adopted me."

"It's very like that dead one, surely."

Miles shrugged. "This is Ireland. Perhaps we shouldn't ask too many questions." He went up to change for dinner, taking the cat with him.

Once in his room, Gardeen became active, roaming her new quarters, exploring all the corners.

"You won't find any mice here, little hunter." Miles rang for Hennigan, then started to strip off his clothes. "I wonder what you'd have done yesterday. Would you have stepped in to protect me? Or to protect Felicity. Just whose guardian are you?" He stopped in the middle of unbuttoning his shirt to frown at the cat, Wondering if he were running completely mad.

He was very tempted to dig up the corpse, but it would be pointless. That cat had definitely been dead. And that cat had been the one they'd brought from Foy, for when Felicity spoke like that she was always truthful.

He thought back to when they'd been leaving Foy, to the black cat which had chased after them. Perhaps it hadn't been Gardeen. Perhaps there had been two identical kittens in the litter.

Or perhaps this one wasn't Gardeen.

It shouldn't matter. But Miles suspected he was going to need a little guardian in the coming days.

Hennigan arrived with fresh hot water and looked down his thin nose at the black creature leaping and rolling on the silk damask bedcover.

"Yes, she's back," Miles said. "And around to stay. I hope."

When Miles went down to dinner, he left the cat in his room with a dish of milk and some morsels of fish and chicken. He thought he'd closed the door, but after dinner when the music began, Gardeen appeared, tail twitching in rhythm.

Miles picked her up and placed her on the top of the piano, but she immediately leaped, paws sliding on the glossy mahogany, off and onto his shoulder.

"My, but she does seem to be attached to you, Miles," his mother said.

"Scared to let the thatch-gallows out of her sight!" Annie declared, still simmering.

"Miss Monahan, I promise to take the greatest care of her from now on."

"You'd better," said Colum with apparent seriousness. "Things happen to people who are unkind to Annie's cats. I remember a lad tied a burning rag to the tail of one. Within weeks, he broke his leg."

"Indeed?" Miles met Annie's threatening eyes. "Do your worst." He knew it could be taken as referring to himself, but he meant it to refer to Dunsmore.

Annie's eyes narrowed. "Oh, I intend to, young man. All in my own good time."

"You know," said Colum, "it's a rare privilege to get one of Annie's cats. I never had one adopt me. Nor has Felicity."

"They go where they're needed," mumbled Annie round a mouthful of cake.

Miles squinted sideways at his guardian cat, who stared back complacently. But it curled its tail around his neck in a surprisingly sensuous, possessive gesture.

Miles looked over to where Felicity was playing the piano and wished the caress on his neck were from her. It wouldn't be, though. He'd caught her unawares once, but she wouldn't let it happen again.

What if, instead of waiting with his door ajar, he went to her room? He felt sure he could seduce, or tease, or coerce her into sex again. The more often they made love, the deeper the bond would be. And the more likely that she would get with child.

But that was what held her back.

Miles looked at the cat again. What would Gardeen do if he tried to coerce Felicity? The line of scabs on his hand gave him his answer.

His gaze was drawn back irresistibly to his tormenting ward. He longed to curl his hand around her elegant neck veiled softly by tendrils of dark hair escaping from her knot. He could almost feel her clever fingers dancing over his body instead of over the smooth hardness of ivory and ebony...

But at the moment, such matters were obviously far from her mind. She was lost in music and at ease, and he would not steal that from her. She so often lacked ease.

Annie had called her active and wayward.

The word, however, was troubled, even anguished, and in a very deep sense.

So what troubled Felicity Monahan, down deep, far deeper than the matter of caring for a neighbor's motherless child?

She looked up as if suddenly aware of his questions. Her fingers completed the piece too soon and she rose. "I think I'll see if Kieran is asleep yet. I'd like to read to him."

She was gone before anyone could comment, though no one but Miles seemed at all disturbed. He knew, however, that Kieran had progressed from just being a barrier between himself and Felicity to being a shield she could deliberately raise when needed.

Miles moved away from the company to look out the window, stroking Gardeen. It was shameful to be jealous of a child, but he was. Kieran was his main rival here, not Dunsmore.

Without Kieran, Felicity would melt into his arms tomorrow.

But how could anyone fight the allure of a charming four-year-old boy who needed love and protection?

Chapter Twelve

The next day-the third of Miles's week-of-grace-progressed much like the day before. Miles and Felicity spent the morning with Kieran. Miles had borrowed a small gray pony, and Kieran was thrilled to ride around the paddock on it. He was ambitious, though, and continually demanded to be allowed to ride Banshee.

Miles, leaning against the fence chewing a blade of grass, muttered a curse. "If I thought he'd survive, I'd put him up there just to teach him a lesson. Has he no sense?"

"Shush. He's stubborn sometimes."

"Like someone else I know." He took the grass out of his mouth and tickled her nose with it.

She swatted it away, but smiled.

"You haven't come to my room the last two nights."

"I never will." But extra color touched her cheeks.

"Never? That's a long time."

"True enough. On both counts."

He teased the pale skin under her chin with the grass. "If I promised you'd be in no danger of getting with child, would you come?"

"I would not." But her blush intensified and she didn't brush the grass away.

"We only have a few more days of truce, a muirnin. `Tis a great shame to waste them."

Her lips parted slightly. "I'm not wasting them."

He drew the frond of the grass over her red cheek to brush those tempting lips. "Do you not lie awake at night, thinking?

She turned to him, swatting the grass away. "Thinking of what?"

"Of balls and rods...of billiards."

She choked on a laugh. After a moment she said, "I don't believe you lie awake over me."

"Don't you?" He brushed the grass across his own lips and saw her dark eyes follow it. "Then why not test me out? Come to my room this night. If you find me asleep, you'll know you're right. If you find me awake..."

"Yes?" "

"Then you'll have to stay awhile."

She licked her lips, and it was almost more than he could do not to kiss her. "Maybe," she whispered before running off to lift Kieran from the pony.

The evening, too, went much as the night before, with Felicity going off to read to Kieran and not returning to the company. Miles, desperately anxious for the real part of the night to begin, was forced by courtesy to spend two long hours playing whist with his mother,

his stepfather, and Annie Monahan.

He rather feared Annie was staying to keep an eye on him and Gardeen and hoped she wasn't taking up permanent residence. Gardeen was watcher enough. She lay curled in front of the fire, but whenever Miles looked over, the cat's silver eyes were upon him as if she didn't trust him not to disappear.

He still hadn't worked out a rational explanation for the cat's existence, never mind deciding whether it had a part to play in his affairs. He fervently hoped Gardeen wasn't going to interfere in whatever happened tonight, though.

He thought the game might drag on until midnight, but eventually Annie announced that she was going to bed since she must return to Foy the next day. She pushed away from the table. "The poor cats will already be distressed."

"I'm sure they will," said Aideen as everyone rose politely. Miles tried hard not to show his relief.

"I must say," added Aideen, "that having Gardeen around almost inclines me to having a house cat."

"An excellent idea." Then Annie fixed Miles with a look. "But you had better not be careless with yours again or I will not be accountable."

He raised his hand in a fencing gesture. "I promise."

She nodded and trundled out.

Aideen gathered the cards. "She certainly grows quite ferocious on the subject."

"A truer word was never spoken," declared Colum, sinking back into his chair. "Miles, my boy, if you value your skin, don't let harm come to that little creature."

Miles sat, too, studying his stepfather with a frown. "Very well, Colum, let's hear your opinion about Gardeen and the cat that was buried."

"Opinion?" Colum's eyes widened. "Faith, you want an opinion on such matters? I suppose I would have to say that cats have nine lives."

Miles knew there was more to it than that. "But according to Annie, a person only gets to share one of them."

"Sure and that could be true. After all, there do always seem to be those cats that just appear. But cats are just cats."

"That isn't what you said a moment ago."

"I was saying that cats are not just cats to Annie."

For once, though, Colum seemed almost agitated. Interesting. Very interesting.

Miles snapped his fingers. He wasn't at all sure the cat would respond, but after just enough hesitation to preserve her dignity, Gardeen pranced over and leapt elegantly onto his lap.