The Virtuous Ward - By Karla Darcy Page 0,61

spray.

"Cheeky wench," Max muttered, wiping his face with his sleeve.

"You can scarcely laugh at me, you gudgeon, looking as you do."

He eyed his cream-colored trousers which were soaked and streaked with mud. The lace at his wrists drooped over his hands and his once crisp cravat snaked down his chest like something long dead. Imagining Wilberforce's horrified expression, he began to chuckle anew. He squished across the grass to retrieve his jacket and placed it over Amity's shoulders with a flourish.

"Your cloak, madam," he said, making her an elegant leg.

She raised her dripping skirts and bobbed a curtsy. Then she flipped a strand of hair over her shoulder and repositioned her hat on her head. The brim flopped in front of her eyes and hearing Max's choked laughter she giggled and removed the offending object.

"Just wait until Lady Grassmere sees what I've done to my new bonnet," she mumbled.

"I fear Cousin Hester will go into spasms if she sees either of us," he said, rolling his eyes and wiggling his eyebrows. "And all for the sake of a cat."

"The cat!" Amity shrieked, dropping down beside the cask in order to free the poor animal. Max knelt beside her, prying open the top. The cat sprang out of the barrel in a burst of hissing and clawing.

In the bright afternoon sunlight the cat was a far from prepossessing sight. She was fat with a face that looked too sly to be pleasing. Her ginger-colored fur was wet and stood up in spiky patches along her back. Her grey-brown eyes narrowed as she lunged out at the person nearest to her.

"Steady on, you beast," Max snapped as the infuriated ball of sodden fur swiped at him.

Amity chuckled at his insulted tone. "She does not know you are a true hero," she apologized.

"Ungrateful hussy," he sneered. "I shall have none of her either."

He pushed himself to his feet and helped Amity up, pulling her hand through his arm. He started back down the lane, trying to ignore the squelching sounds his boots made at every step. "We shall pretend that nothing is amiss and then we should be able to pass quite unnoticed."

Amity stared at him open-mouthed, but as he peered at her out of the corner of his eye, she once more started to giggle. "For a moment there, I almost believed you."

"Ah, well, I suspect we are in for a dreadful scold, so I see little to be gained by worrying about it."

They both agreed and continued on their way, chatting amiably until they arrived at the carriage and Lewis, gape-mouthed in astonishment.

"So much for your theory," Amity said. "You can explain while I get the cat. Come here, Ginger."

"Don't tell me that miserable excuse for a feline has followed us," Max burst out in exasperation. He glared down at the matted fur of the ginger cat, hardening his heart at the woebegone look on its feline face. "I much preferred it in the barrel."

Amity dropped to the ground, scooping up the bedraggled cat and cuddling against her damp bosom. "Oh, Max, I suspect that it's just hungry and alone."

"Don't say it," he warned. "I don't care if it needs a good home." Then at the appeal in her eyes, he threw up his hands in resignation. "All right, but only if you promise to keep it in the storeroom."

"It'll chase the chickens!" she argued.

"What chickens?" he shouted. "Devil take it, you baggage! Just keep it out of my sight." For a moment his eyes narrowed as he caught the glint of smugness on the cat's face but he shook his head at his own fancy.

Lewis, his eyes shifting back and forth between the brangling couple, was hard pressed to keep from laughing. Suspecting his master's humor might be strained to the edge, he held his tongue all the way back to town.

Max took a circuitous route through the city, avoiding the better sections where they were least likely to run into someone they knew. Instead of pulling up in front of the townhouse, he brought the curricle into the mews. He ignored the stares of the servants as he removed the cat from Amity's lap and presented it to Lewis with orders to see to its care. Then with unhurried formality, he handed Amity to the ground, leading her through the garden to the kitchen entrance. There, unfortunately, their luck ran out.

"Miss Amity!" Betta gasped, knocking over her tea in her haste to rise.

"Your lordship!" Wilberforce chimed in, followed by