He'd wanted to call upon her first thing, but no, both Caroline and Blake had insisted that he give her a little time. She was overwrought, they'd said. Better to wait until her emotions weren't running quite so high.
So he'd waited. Against his better judgment, and, more importantly as pertained to his temper, against his natural instinct, he'd waited. And then, when he'd finally gone to the Ravenscrofts' room to ask them if they thought he'd waited long enough, he'd found a note from Caroline to Blake, explaining that she'd gone out to the Hotchkiss cottage.
And then he'd found a note from Blake to himself, saying much the same thing.
And then, to add insult to injury, as he'd dashed through Danbury House's great hall, the butler had stopped him to mention that the countess had gone out to the Hotchkiss cottage.
The only damned creature who hadn't made the mile-long journey was the blasted cat.
'Elizabeth!' James bellowed, pounding his fist against the surprisingly well-made and sturdy door. 'Let me in this instant or I swear I'll-'
The door abruptly swung open. James looked out into nothingness, then redirected his gaze several inches down. Little Jane Hotchkiss was standing in the doorway, beaming up at him. 'Good day, Mr. Siddons,' she chirped, extending her hand. 'I'm learning to waltz.'
James reluctantly faced the fact that he couldn't barrel past a nine-year-old girl and live with his conscience. 'Miss Jane,' he replied. 'It's fine to see you again.'
She wiggled her fingers.
He blinked.
She wiggled them again.
'Oh, right,' he said quickly, leaning down to kiss her hand. Apparently once you'd kissed a little girl's hand, you were obligated to repeat the gesture for the rest of her childhood.
'It's a fine day, don't you think?' Jane asked, affecting her most grown-up accent.
'Yes, I…' His words trailed off as he glanced past her shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever was causing such a commotion in the sitting room. His aunt was bellowing about something, Lucas was yelling something else, and then Susan came tearing out, scooting across the hall and into the kitchen.
'I found him!' Susan yelled.
Then, much to James's astonishment, an obese ball of fur trotted out of the kitchen, crossed the hall, and sauntered into the sitting room.
Damn. Even the bloody cat had managed to get here before he had.
'Jane,' he said with what he thought was a heroic measure of patience, 'I really need to speak with your sister.'
'Elizabeth?'
No, Susan. 'Yes, Elizabeth,' he said slowly.
'Oh. She's in the sitting room. But I should warn you'-Jane cocked her head flirtatiously-'she's very busy. We've had a lot of guests this afternoon.'
'I know,' James muttered, waiting for Jane to move so that he wouldn't run her over on his way to the sitting room.
'Maw!'
'That cat is not very well-behaved,' Jane said primly, showing no signs of moving now that she had a new topic of conversation. 'He has been whining like that all day.'
James noticed that his hands had balled into impatient fists. 'Really?' he asked, as politely as he was able. If he used a tone of voice that reflected how he was really feeling, the little girl would probably run screaming in the other direction.
And the path to Elizabeth's heart definitely did not include reducing her younger sister to tears.
Jane nodded. 'He is a terrible cat.'
'Jane,' James said, squatting down to her level, “could I speak with Elizabeth now?''
The little girl swept aside. 'Of course. You should have asked.'
James resisted the urge to comment further. Instead, he thanked Jane, kissed her hand again for good measure, and then strode off to the sitting room, where, much to his great surprise and slight amusement, he found Elizabeth on her hands and knees.
'Malcolm,' Elizabeth hissed, 'you get out from under that cabinet right now.'
Malcolm sniffed.
'Right now, you miserable little kitty.'
'Do not refer to my cat as a miserable little kitty,' Lady Danbury boomed.
Elizabeth reached out and tried to grab the recalcitrant furball. The recalcitrant furball replied with a claw-filled swipe of his paw.
'Lady Danbury,' Elizabeth announced without lifting her head, 'this cat is a monster.'
'Don't be ridiculous. Malcolm is nature's perfect kitty, and you know it.'
'Malcolm,' Elizabeth muttered, 'is the spawn of the devil.'
'Elizabeth Hotchkiss!'
'It's true.'
'Just last week you said he was a wonderful cat.'
'Last week he was being nice to me. If I recall, you called him a traitor.'
Lady Danbury sniffed as she watched Elizabeth try to grab the cat again. 'He is clearly overset because those beastly children were chasing him around the house.'
That was it! Elizabeth hauled herself to her feet, fixed a deadly stare in Lady Danbury's direction, and growled, 'No one calls Lucas and Jane beasts but me!'
What ensued wasn't quite utter silence. Blake was audibly laughing under his hand, and Lady Danbury was sputtering about, making strange gurgling noises, and blinking so hard that Elizabeth would swear she could hear her eyelids clamp shut.
But nothing would have prepared her for the sound of slow clapping coming from behind her. Elizabeth turned slowly around, twisting to face the doorway.
James. Standing there with an impressed half-smile and an arched eyebrow. He cocked his head at his aunt, saying, “I can't remember the last tune I heard anyone speak to you that way, Aunt.'
'Except you!' Lady D retorted. Then, realizing he'd just called her 'aunt,' she started sputtering anew, jerking her head in Elizabeth's direction.
'It's all right,' James said. 'She knows everything.'
'Since when?'
'Since last night.'
Lady Danbury turned to Elizabeth and snapped, “And you didn't tell me?'
'You didn't ask!' Then Elizabeth turned back to James and growled, 'How long have you been standing there?'
'I saw you crawling under the cabinet, if that's what you're asking.'
Elizabeth fought an inner groan. She'd managed to grab hold of Jane and beg her to stall James, and she'd been hoping that Jane would have kept him in the hall at least until she'd managed to return the blooming cat to Lady Danbury.
She hadn't really wanted James's first view of her after last night's debacle to be of her swishing behind.
When she got her hands on that cat…
'Why,' Lady Danbury shrilled, 'did no one inform me of the change in James's public identity?'
'Blake,' Caroline said, tugging on her husband's arm, 'this might be our cue to leave.'
He shook his head. 'I wouldn't miss this for the world.'
'Well, you're going to have to,' James said forcefully. He crossed the room and grabbed hold of Elizabeth's hand. 'You are all welcome to stay and enjoy your tea, but Elizabeth and I are leaving.'
'Wait a moment,' she protested, making an unsuccessful attempt to retrieve her hand. 'You can't do this.'
