“My father raises dogs,” he told her, grabbing two pewter goblets of wine from a maid passing by with a tray. “Big, mean ones who would eat your cat for breakfast.”
She laughed. “Surely not.”
He smiled at both her and the purring cat. “He adores you.”
“Beatrix is female, actually.” The feline began hiccuping in a decidedly unladylike fashion. “What made you think she was male?”
“You’re a beautiful woman…all males would adore you,” he said and bit into a strawberry.
She looked away, hoping he wouldn’t notice her choking on a bite of tart. Ford was coming out of the house, leading another little group around to see the pipes to the river.
Swallowing the cinnamony apples and custard, she turned back to Rand. “Thank you, but being nice is much more important than being attractive. Although Rose is very attractive,” she added as an afterthought. “Don’t you think so, my lord?”
“Rand,” he reminded her. “And yes, Rose is quite attractive and being nice is much more important. But you’re both attractive and nice.”
What on earth was she supposed to say to that?
He was impossible.
Her fingers went to trace the scars on the back of her left hand before she realized what she was doing and hid it beneath the table. Rose would love this sort of attention. The two were quite definitely suited.
A sparrow landed on their table, providing a welcome distraction. “Hello, Lady,” she murmured and fed it some crumbs from her plate.
Watching her, Rand absently rubbed the ends of his magnificent mane between two fingers. “Are you still hoping to build a home for stray animals?”
After all this time, he remembered her dream. “Very much so,” she said, both startled and pleased, but also wondering if he thought her goal childish. She’d been a child when she’d chosen it, after all.
But he seemed to be taking her seriously. “Have you made plans?”
“Of sorts. I’ll come into my inheritance next year. I’m planning a simple building so as to have funds left to staff it for a number of years. I’m hoping to obtain donations as well. Eventually enough to keep running it once my money is depleted. And perhaps even build others.”
“A solid strategy. Have you thought of having the building donated?”
“I’d prefer it built specifically for my purpose. To convert a house or other building could cost as much as starting from scratch.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “Perhaps an architect would donate his services.” His eyes twinkled, looking silver in the afternoon sun. “I happen to know one—”
“Uncle Ford!” Jewel came bounding out of the house, her pink skirts flying. “Uncle Ford! Something’s happened with…”
Her words faded as she disappeared around the corner.
Rowan flew through the door next and darted after her, pink-cheeked to match her skirts, his mouth hanging open in something akin to horror.
Lily jumped to her feet. “They’ve done something,” she exclaimed as Ford appeared at a run and dashed into the house, shouldering his way past all the guests hurrying out. “I knew it!”
FIVE
“I SWEAR, UNCLE Ford, we did nothing.” Jewel held her skirts up off the floor while she turned in a slow circle, assessing the destruction. “Oh,” she wailed, “look at my chamber!”
Rand gestured at his luggage sitting on the four-poster bed—as opposed to the floor, where it had been earlier. “I thought this was my chamber.”
“Uncle Ford had it painted green because that’s my favorite color. I sleep here when I visit. And now it’s all ruined.”
Ford poked his head out of the little room in the corner where he was examining his invention. “At least it’s clean water,” he pointed out defensively.
New water stains on Rand’s luggage were the least of the damage.
The oak floor was sopping. The wet went up the walls, the water having apparently been deeper before escaping the chamber and making its way down the corridor and stairs. Most of the ground floor had flooded as well, including all of the beautiful, expensive carpeting that Violet had had specially woven.
But this room, where the disaster had originated, was by far the worst. The pale green bedclothes dripped, the air held a chill, the carpet felt soggy beneath their feet, and Lily suspected that mildew was setting in already.
“We did nothing,” Rowan repeated. “We just came up to look, and when we opened the door—”
“Now, Rowan,” Lily began, knowing her brother all too well. Especially when he was with Jewel. The girl’s father was infamous for playing practical jokes, and she’d taught Rowan every trick the man had taught her. “Do you expect us to believe—”
“He’s right,” Ford broke in, apparently having finished his investigation. “It was the fault of my design—a problem with the tank mechanism.” Looking rather pained to admit that, he ran a hand back through his long brown hair. “I expect it began flooding the moment I turned my back. I never considered…it never occurred to me…”
“Never say never,” Rand interjected dryly.
Jewel went to the window. “Everyone else has gone outside.”
“Of course, you goose.” Rowan snorted. “The floor is wet all over the house.”
“The women wouldn’t want to ruin their fashionable satin slippers,” Rand added, glancing down at the water-stained shoes on Lily’s feet, visible since she was holding up her skirts.
“There are more important things than shoes,” she pointed out. “Like Violet’s carpeting. She’s going to be furious.”
“No, I’m not,” Violet said, walking in with a squish-squash sound. She went on her toes to grace her husband with a light kiss. “I’m used to catastrophes,” she declared with an exaggerated sigh. “Part and parcel of my marriage. Besides, we must only remove the carpets and spread them outside to dry. A few rain-free days and they’ll be good as new.”
“Are you sure?” Jewel asked dubiously.
“About it not raining? No,” Violet said in her practical way. “But they will eventually dry. I’m afraid, though, that this room will be
