Chapter 21
twenty-one
Tristan winced as Effie pressed a cloth on the bleeding slashes on his hand. Another day, another cut she had to take care of. The only thing that changed was the location. Now they were in his drawing room.
Apparently, grabbing Kettle was the worst thing he could have ever done.
When he’d started to gather the cat in his arms to take him downstairs, the feline had reacted with speed in his limbs and murder in his mind.
It’d taken but a moment for his sharp claws to leave a clear message on Tristan’s hand.
“I’m so sorry.” Effie applied more disinfectant to the cuts. “Kettle was stressed and tired, and he doesn’t know you. You scared him.”
“Another creature scared of me. Great.”
“Well, Kettle isn’t usually sweet,” Lady Vaughan said, facing the window.
“Thank you, Jane.” Effie glowered at her.
At least Pepper and Turi were sympathetic. As Tristan sat on an armchair, the dogs were curled on the floor while Rowan had the wild panther half-asleep on his lap. Kettle was the picture of innocence, purring softly as Rowan gently stroked his fur.
“Kettle seems to like Rowan.” Tristan flexed his fingers. They were a bit stiff after his last session.
“Kettle isn’t afraid of Lord Rowan.” She bandaged his hand. “Cats have their favourite people, and there’s nothing we can do about that.”
Rowan smiled. It wasn’t the carefree, boyish smile he’d shown before the incident, but it was better than nothing.
“Thank you for bringing Turi, Pepper, and Kettle here,” Rowan said. “It was fun—” He fell silent, and the weak smile vanished. “I didn’t mean to make fun of you, Tristan.”
“I didn’t think you were.”
And just like that, Rowan returned sad.
Tristan exchanged a glance with Effie, wanting her to notice how quickly Rowan’s mood changed when he was around.
“You’re welcome,” she said. “The most difficult part is taking Kettle home in the carrier. You can turn around, Jane. I’ve finished with the bandage.”
“Please.” Lady Vaughan let out an exaggerated breath. “Can’t we leave him here? He certainly knows the house.”
“I’m afraid it’s not possible. Kettle would try to return home on his own, and I don’t want him to wander the streets for hours.”
Tristan was concerned when Effie lifted Kettle to wrestle him in the carrier. If he tried to put his hands on Kettle, he would get hurt again.
Somehow, she slid the furry fury into the carrier with surprising dexterity, and the following loud feline wails sent goose pimples all over his skin.
As usual, he escorted her to the carriage. Turi jumped inside quickly and sat on the squab as if wanting to demonstrate how proper pets should behave. Pepper required his help, not managing to leap, and Kettle was inconsolable.
“Thank you for everything you do for us,” he said once they were all inside the carriage.
“My pleasure.”
Despite the noise coming from the carrier, he stood there. He hadn’t finished his marriage proposal. “Can I see you tomorrow in private?” he asked as Kettle meowed at the top of his lungs.
“What did you say?” She tilted her head.
“I asked if I could see you tomorrow in private!” he shouted, but Kettle chose exactly that moment to fall silent. Cursed feline.
The entire city must have heard him.
The footman and the coachman turned towards him. Lady Vaughan’s stunned expression would have been comical if he weren’t utterly embarrassed. Then everyone gazed at Effie.
She cleared her throat. “Of course. I won’t have Kettle with me.” She laughed nervously.
“Thank you.”
The wailing started again. That cat hated him.
He stepped back from the carriage and signalled for the coachman to go.
She waved at him as Kettle kept protesting about his imprisonment.
He returned inside with a heavy heart, despite the laughter he’d shared with her.
Usually, when he made a decision, he didn’t go back to it.
He only went forwards. But with Effie, he kept wondering what he had to offer aside from his title and fortune, which she didn’t seem to care about.
He wanted her to be his wife, but he wasn’t sure he was the right husband for her.
But then again, he didn’t want to live with the doubt of what could have been between them. There was also the possibility that she would run for the hills the moment she learnt his supposed mistress was a dirty, illegal boxing ring.
The warmth of the blazing log fire welcomed him when he stepped into the drawing room. Rowan tottered on his good foot, almost losing his balance as he stood in front of the flames.
“Careful.” Tristan steadied him, taking his arm.
“Thank you.” Rowan slid his arm out of Tristan’s grip and leant on the crutches.
“Are you going upstairs?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll help you.”
“There’s no need.”
“Rowan.” He regretted the commanding tone. “Why are you frightened of me?” He’d asked that question a few times, but he would keep asking it until his brother answered.
“I’m not.” Rowan walked towards the door, using both crutches.
“Then what is it?” He followed him.
“I’m tired.”
He followed him up the stairs in silence, just to make sure his brother didn’t fall. And that pretty much was the only thing he could think of to help his brother.
He held the door open for him. “I think we need to talk.”
Rowan sat on the bed. “Why now? Because I might not walk ever again?”
“Because you could have died, and I was bloody scared.”
Rowan lifted his gaze to him, his mouth hanging open. “You were scared?”
“To death. I thought I’d lost you.” His voice cracked, and for the first time in his life, he didn’t hide his fear.
“You barely know me,” Rowan whispered.
That was true. And it was his fault.
“You’re my brother. We can spend some time together and get to know each other better.” He stretched out his arm towards Rowan.
“Do you really mean that? Or do you just pity me?”
That was something he would say. The similarity with Rowan didn’t please him in the least. His darkness was contagious.
“I mean it with all my heart, and it’s not pity, but compassion.” He’d learnt something from sweet Effie.
For a moment, he thought Rowan wasn’t going to shake his hand, but then he slipped his hand into Tristan’s and sealed the deal.
He couldn’t stop a smile. “I’ll let you rest now. You had a busy afternoon.”
Rowan nodded. “Thank you.”
When Tristan closed the door, he realised that interaction with Rowan had been the first one he hadn’t treated like a business deal.