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To Katie, that helpless sound was like a rock hit-ting a window. It shattered something inside her the
hard and brittle armor of cynicism and detachment she had worn for most of her life, armor so
comfortable to her that she hadn t even known it was there until now, when she felt it falling around her in
pieces on the ground.
She stared at the kitten, looking into the round green eyes that peered at her from between Ethan s
fingers, and she felt herself coming apart.
Ethan did not appear to notice. He turned the kitten s face toward his own and studied it for a few
seconds.  I got her from my kitchen maid, he said nonchalantly.  If she turns out anything like her
mother, who is the destroyer of rats in my house-hold, she ll weigh a full stone or more, and she ll be as
big and fat as a Christmas ham.
No man had ever done anything thoughtful for her, at least not without the expectation of some-thing in
return, and she could not quite take it in. She stood there, staring stupidly at the animal cra-dled in his
hand, and she was unable to utter a word.
 I think she ll be able to dispatch any mice that dare to invade your larder, he told her, and turned the
animal back around so she could see its face.  Wouldn t you agree? I mean to say, who needs a tiger
from India when you have a fierce mouser such as this?
Katie started to laugh, but her laughter changed to a sob, and she found to her mortification that she was
doing something she had not done since she was a little girl. She was crying. She was standing in the
midst of a public street, with hordes of people all around her, with tears falling down her cheeks.
She reached for the kitten and took it from his hand. She buried her face against the soft fur to brush
away her tears, and though she struggled to regain control, she could not seem to manage it. The worst
part of it was that she could not even un-derstand why she was crying. She never cried. Never.
Ethan said nothing. He simply reached into an-other pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. He held it out
to her without a word, and when she took it, he turned away, giving her time to compose herself. He
pretended to study the newspapers stacked nearby, while Katie tucked the kitten into the warm shelter
of her cloak pocket and put his handkerchief to good use.
Once she had her emotions in check, she and Ethan continued their walk down the street as if nothing
had happened. Neither of them spoke. Ethan made no attempt to talk, and for that she was grateful. She
could not have managed conversation just now.
She had spent most of her life hardening herself against the world by caring for no one, protecting herself
from painful disappointments with a jaded mind and a jaundiced eye, always believing the worst and
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keeping fear at bay with a shell of brash self-confidence.
A lifetime of self-protection had been shattered in an instant. One man and his gift of a common
household kitten had stripped away all her protec-tive barriers and left her feeling raw, vulnerable, and
very much afraid. She was trying to harden her heart against him, and he was making it impossible. Damn
him, anyway.
Chapter Twelve
The London Bookstore was packed when Katie entered. Amid the array of books, telescopes,
wall-paper, and baskets available for sale, customers chatted with one another as they sipped steaming
cups of chicory coffee.
Mr. Henry Knox proved to be a plump, cherubic-faced young man, and he must have been expecting
her, for scarcely a minute after she entered the shop, he came bustling across the crowded room to greet
her.
 Mrs, Armstrong, he exclaimed as if they had already met.  I am delighted to see you again. You have
come for your book?
 I have, she answered, taking her cue from him.
 Excellent. I will wrap it up for you. In the meantime, feel free to browse as much as you like.
Their gazes met in understanding, before the bookseller departed in search of what Katie knew was
more than a copy of Shakespeare s complete works. Perhaps there were letters or secret papers inside,
but if so, she would have no opportunity to have a look at them, for when Knox returned, the package he
handed her was wrapped securely in brown paper and closed with sealing wax.
 Would you like it charged to your account? Knox asked her.
 Of course. Katie accepted the package from him and left the shop. She tucked the package under her
arm and her hands in the pockets of her cloak against the cold wind of early spring. One of her hands
closed around the warm, furry bundle in her pocket, and this time she didn t cry. Instead, she smiled. So
much for gold and diamonds.
She found the coffeehouse Ethan had described, and when she went inside, she found him waiting for
her at a table in the corner, surrounded by sev-eral other ladies and gentlemen, most of whom she had
met the night before. William Holbrook was among them, and he greeted Katie with a rather lecherous
wink that she found quite irritating. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]