“Good morning, Harriett, please excuse Eliza’s formality,” Peter said softly, making no attempt to approach her. Clearly she was uncomfortable with being presented with not only one male, but three in one go. Despite her unease, if they had any chance of getting her to leave with them, they all had to be at their charming best.
In deference to Jemima, he tried his level best to ease her wariness. “Please call me Peter.”
He pointed to Edward. “That’s Edward, and he’s Hugo. We don’t bother with formalities, so first names will do.” With that he moved to stand next to Jemima, openly placing her hand in his.
He caught the look of gratitude Jemima threw him, and gave her a quick wink in return.
“Good morning,” Harriett murmured, uncertain how to greet three strange men with aplomb while wearing a dress that had been shredded.
She jumped and rolled her eyes at the loud thump on the door leading to the front of the house.
As one, the men came to attention, all frowns and masculinity. Sensing their disquiet, Harriett looked at Jemima before turning back to the men.
“Don’t worry, that’s Harrold,” she hastened to reassure them. She wasn’t fearful for Harrold’s safety, but for theirs. If any of them went to open the door, they would get far more than they bargained for.
“He must be quite elderly now,” Jemima murmured, her brows arching as the door shook again.
“He is, but it doesn’t slow him down,” Harriett replied. She missed Eliza’s muttered, “Pity” and the sharp elbow she got from her sister for her rudeness.
Hugo went to the door and threw it open.
“Wait!” Harriett shouted, spinning on her heel toward him, her face a mask of horror.
Chaos ensued.
An exceedingly large ball of fur launched itself through the door in a streak of hissing fury.
Hugo briefly caught sight of feral yellow eyes glaring balefully at him through a cloud of black fur before the wretched beast latched onto his chest. His swore imaginatively as he jostled the animal, trying to unleash its claws from the tender flesh of his chest.
“Get this damned thing off me now!” he demanded, wondering frantically just how many legs the cat hat. It felt like thirty. In fact he was sure it was more like forty. He could feel every claw piercing his flesh. The pain was searing, as he spun, twisted and swore his way around the kitchen.
Harriett flapped around, gasping soothing nonsense at Harrold while trying to avoid being stood on.
Edward, rendered practically useless by laughter, made no attempt to help prise the animal off, and watched as Harriett grasped the creature around the body and began to tug, to Hugo’s consternation, who was still swearing and ordering her not to pull the bloody thing because it was still attached to him!
In the end, it was Peter who came to the rescue. Calmly easing Harriett to one side, he grasped the beast by the back of the neck and pulled it upwards.
Realising he was losing his grip, Harrold began to squirm and protest against being held so rudely by the neck, his hisses and yowls so loud that Jemima was certain half of Padstow could hear him.
“Where do you want him?” Peter asked Harriett, holding the scrapping beast aloft like a hunting trophy.
Harriett motioned toward the door, glaring at Hugo as she stomped past. Outraged at being attacked by her cat, Hugo merely glared back and began to dab the dots of blood on his chest.
“That damned thing should be shot,” he declared flatly, one lip curled in contempt as he glared at the cat hanging from Peter’s hand.
“He is my ‘damned thing’, as you put it,” Harriett cried, “and if anyone is to blame, it is you.”
“Me?” Hugo demanded, outraged. He had been the one who had been attacked by her damned thing. He should be angry. What was he thinking? He was angry.
“You let him out!” Harriett scolded, wagging a finger at him.
“There is no way that damned thing is coming with us,” he snarled, ignoring her to glare at each person in turn, daring them to object.
“Go where with you?” Harriett asked, her anger swiftly replaced by alarm. She turned to look at Jemima, who was looking uncomfortable, then at Eliza, who was studying her feet with far too much interest.
An awkward silence settled over the room until Jemima realised she had to be the one to broach the subject.
“Harriett, we need you to come with us,” Jemima stated carefully, aware of the dark frown that settled over her friend’s face. “You are in grave danger at the moment.”