'Lady Danbury,' Elizabeth scolded, 'you know that cat is too fat.'
'Nonsense.'
Elizabeth shook her head. Malcolm weighed at least a stone, although a good portion of that was fur. She spent the better part of every evening after she returned home defurring her clothing.
Which was really quite remarkable, since the snobby beast hadn't deigned to let her hold him in five years.
'Good kitty,' Lady D said, holding out her arms.
'Stupid cat,' Elizabeth muttered as the ecru-colored feline stopped, stared at her, then went on his way.
'You're such a sweet thing.' Lady D rubbed her hand against his furry belly. 'Such a sweet thing.'
The cat stretched out on Lady Danbury's lap, laying on his back with his paws hanging over his head.
'That isn't a cat,' Elizabeth said. 'It's a poor excuse for a rug.'
Lady D raised a brow. 'I know you don't mean that, Lizzie Hotchkiss.'
'Yes, I do.'
'Nonsense. You love Malcolm.'
'Like I love Attila the Hun.'
'Well, Malcolm loves you.'
The cat lifted his head, and Elizabeth would swear he stuck his tongue out at her.
Elizabeth stood, letting out an indignant squeak. “That cat is a menace. I'm going to the library.'
'Good idea. Go find me a new book.'
Elizabeth headed for the door.
'And nothing with 'begat'!'
Elizabeth laughed in spite of herself and headed across the hall to the library. The clicking sound of her footsteps disappeared as she stepped onto the carpet, and she sighed. Good heavens, there were a lot of books here. Where on earth to start?
She selected a few novels, then pulled down a collection of Shakespeare's comedies. A slim volume of romantic poetry joined the pile, and then, just as she was about to cross the hall back to Lady D's drawing room, another book caught her eye.
It was very small, and bound in quite the brightest red leather Elizabeth had ever seen. But what was most odd about the book was that it was sitting sideways on a shelf in a library that gave new meaning to the word 'order.' Dust wouldn't dare settle on these shelves, and certainly no book would ever lie sideways.
Elizabeth set down her pile and picked up the little red book. It was upside down, so she had to flip it over to read the title.
HOW TO MARRY A MARQUIS
She dropped the book, half expecting lightning to strike her, right there in the library. Surely this had to be some kind of joke. She'd only decided that afternoon that she had to marry, and well.
'Susan?' she called out. 'Lucas? Jane?'
She shook her head. She was being ridiculous. Her siblings, cheeky as they may be, would not sneak into Lady Danbury's house and deposit a fake book, and-
Well, actually, she thought, turning the slim red volume over in her hand, when it came right down to it, the book didn't really look fake. The binding looked sturdy, and the leather on the cover appeared to be of high quality. She glanced around to make sure that no one was watching-although she wasn't quite certain why she should feel so embarrassed-and carefully opened it to the first page.
The author was a Mrs. Seeton, and the book had been printed in 1792, the year of Elizabeth's birth. A funny little coincidence, Elizabeth decided, but she wasn't a superstitious sort of person. And she certainly didn't need a little book to tell her how to live her life.
Besides, when it came right down to it, what did this Mrs. Seeton really know? After all, if she had married a marquis, wouldn't she be Lady Seeton?
Elizabeth slammed the book shut decisively and returned it to its spot on the shelf, making certain that it laid sideways, just the way she had found it. She didn't want anyone to think she'd actually been looking at the silly thing.
She picked up her stack of books and crossed back to the drawing room, where Lady Danbury was still sitting in her chair, stroking her cat and staring out the window as if she were waiting for someone.
'I found some books,' Elizabeth called out. 'I don't think you'll find many 'begats' in these, although perhaps in the Shakespeare-'
'Not tragedies, I hope.'
'No, I thought that in your current frame of mind, you'd find the comedies more entertaining.'
'Good girl,' Lady Danbury said approvingly. 'Anything else?'
Elizabeth blinked and looked back down at the books in her arms. 'A couple of novels, and some poetry.'
'Burn the poetry.'
'I beg your pardon?'
“Well, don't burn it; the books are certainly more valuable than firewood. But I certainly don't want to hear it. My late husband must have bought that. Such a dreamer.'
'I see,' Elizabeth said, mostly because she thought she was expected to say something.
With a sudden movement, Lady Danbury cleared her throat and waved her hand in the air. 'Why don't you go home early today?'
Elizabeth's mouth dropped open. Lady Danbury never dismissed her early.
'I have to deal with that blasted estate manager, and I certainly don't need you here for that. Besides, if he's an eye for pretty young girls, I'll never get him to pay attention to me with you around.'
'Lady Danbury, I hardly think-'
“Nonsense. You're quite an attractive thing. Men love blond hair. I should know. Mine used to be as fair as yours.'
Elizabeth smiled. 'It still is fair.'
'It's white, is what it is,' Lady Danbury said with a laugh. 'You're a sweet thing. You shouldn't be here with me, you should be out finding a husband.'
'I… ah…' What to say to that?
'Very noble of you to devote yourself to your siblings, but you have to live as well.'
Elizabeth just stared at her employer, horrified by the tears pooling in her eyes. She'd served Lady Danbury for five years, and never had they spoken of such matters. 'I'll-I'll be off, then, since you say I might leave early.'
Lady Danbury nodded, looking oddly disappointed. Had she been hoping Elizabeth would pursue the topic further? 'Just put that book of poetry back before you go,' she instructed. 'I'm sure I won't look at it, and I can't trust the servants to keep my books in order.'
'I will.' Elizabeth set the rest of the books down on an end table, gathered her things, and said her farewells. As she was walking out of the room, Malcolm jumped off of Lady Danbury's lap and followed her.
'See?' Lady D crowed. 'I told you he loved you.'
Elizabeth eyed the cat suspiciously as she headed out into the hall. 'What do you want, Malcolm?'
He flicked his tail, bared his teeth, and hissed.
'Oh!' Elizabeth exclaimed, dropping the poetry book. 'You beast. Following me out here just to hiss-'
'Did you throw a book at my cat?' Lady D hollered.
Elizabeth decided to ignore the question, instead jabbing her finger in Malcolm's direction as she snatched up her book. 'Go back to Lady Danbury, you awful creature.'
Malcolm stuck his tail in the air and stalked away.
Elizabeth let out a long breath and walked into the library. She headed toward the poetry section, scrupulously keeping her back to that little red book. She didn't want to think about it, she didn't want to look at it-
Drat, but that thing was practically giving off heat. Never in her life had Elizabeth been so aware of an inanimate object.
She reshelved the volume of poetry and stomped to the door, starting to get really annoyed with herself. That silly little book shouldn't affect her one way or another. By avoiding it like the plague, she was actually giving it power it didn't deserve, and-
'Oh, for heavens sake!' she finally burst out.
'Did you say something?' Lady Danbury called out from the next room.
