'No obstacle is too great,' Thomas said as he eased both his wife and Miss Crittenden down, 'for a true racing cat to surmount.'
Madeleine yelled out, 'The soon-to-be legendary prize for the winner of the quarter-of-a-mile race, is a magnificent set of collars, handmade by none other than the other dowager countess of Lancaster.'
More cheering.
Libby bowed and walked sedately to where Meggie had finally gotten herself together and was holding a more composed Miss Crittenden in her arms.
Jenny was standing beside her, holding Jubilee, who looked disgruntled, occasionally spitting toward Miss Crittenden, a very natural thing, Meggie assured her even as she was grinning like a fool. William was patting Jenny's head in commiseration, in much the same way as he patted his new wife's growing belly in pleasure.
'Very easy for you to say since you're the winner,' Jenny said. 'That damned dog just about scared Jubilee out of her fur.'
Brutus sat on his haunches, his tail a steady metronome, fluffing up dirt, Thomas holding him firmly. He was eyeing the cat collar as Meggie fastened it around Miss Crittenden's neck. There were small emeralds sewn into the collar, as green as Ireland's hills after a summer rain.
It was a beautiful day on the coast of southwestern Ireland, the first day a cat race had ever been run there. It wouldn't be the last.
And luckily, there had actually been a winner.
Catherine Coulter
Catherine Coulter is the bestselling author of numerous historical romances as well as several highly acclaimed contemporary novels. She lives in Northern California with her husband, Anton, and her cat, Gilley.
