Bridget wanted to toss her sister out of her room and let her deal with it, but she could not help but be roped in to assist. She would do anything for her sister, and she knew that Margaret would not be able to concentrate on the wedding preparations while her cat was missing.
“Let’s not tell anyone,” Bridget began. “We don’t need the entire household searching for your cat when there are other things to do. Go to the kitchens and have them give you some fish. Place that in your room to see if it tempts him back, but only for a short while, or it will start to smell. We will both look for him, but only as we do the other things that need to be done. He will return, Margaret. I am sure of it.”
Perhaps it was the idea to find him or just having someone to share her problem with, but Margaret calmed down.
“Yes, he will come home, won’t he?” she asked with a smile.
“He will. I will make sure of it,” Bridget assured her. “Now, go and get some fish, and forget about it for an hour or two. Spend time with Lord Michael and ensure everything is going as planned for the wedding.”
“You will join me for that, won’t you?” Margaret asked.
“Yes, of course,” Bridget said. “As soon as I feel rested.”
Margaret nodded and then left the room.
As Bridget lay down on her bed again, she wondered who might knock next. She had fewer problems to deal with when she was out on the estate compared to when she was confined to her room.
She shook her head and smiled when a fourth knock sounded at her door. That smile soon turned into a grimace as the frustration came flooding back.
All I want is some time to myself!
“Well, come in!” she called a little too snarkily.
The door opened, and a flash of panic shot through her when she watched the Duke step into her room.
Bridget scrambled to stand up, and she would have ordered him to leave if she had not been rendered speechless.
“Don’t say a word,” the Duke ordered. “I have seen people going in and out of your room all day, and I assume you are still embarrassed about what you said to me on the beach. You need not be, but it is understandable. You wish to be alone for a while, and you have not had that here. I have had your horse saddled, and the beast is waiting for you to ride it. If your ankle is feeling up to it, you should take the chance before someone else knocks on your door. I promise you will get to ride alone with no interruptions. Go now and don’t look back.”
Bridget quickly found her feet, and she rushed toward the door. She was about to pass the Duke when an invisible hand pulled her back. She looked up into his green eyes, seeing strength and resilience in them. She held his gaze for a moment more.
“Thank you,” she whispered, before taking off toward the stables.
CHAPTER17
Late Night Searching
Bridget woke from her slumber. It was dark outside, and only the faint glow from the oil lamp on the chest of drawers on the other side of the room provided any illumination. It had been a small mercy that she had finally fallen asleep with so many problems being piled on her.
And now, she was awake again.
Bridget stared up at the ceiling, and she heard what had woken her: a faint mewling sound.
She would have thought nothing of it if her sister had not visited her earlier that day. No, in the darkness of the night, she was determined to find that naughty cat and let Margaret get on with planning her wedding. She got out of bed and fetched her long robe and bonnet, before retrieving the oil lamp.
Bridget crept out of the room and delved into the silence of the night. She walked quietly, avoiding putting too much of her weight on the floorboards and causing them to creak. She was not so much worried about waking someone as she was about scaring Mr. Peaches away.
She heard mewling again, and she stopped. She listened and heard the cat call out again and headed in that direction. She reached the back of the house and quietly stepped outside onto the veranda.
It was tranquil, with only the sounds of the lapping waves in the distance. She would have been afraid to be out alone if she were in London, but they were on the coast before the holiday season. There was no one in the surrounding houses, and it was not the sort of area that people stumbled upon.
When she heard Mr. Peaches meow again, she knew she was getting close and ventured toward the sound. She was ready to scold Mr. Peaches for sneaking out and being so naughty, but she knew the cat would not understand.
Bridget turned up the oil lamp to better see the way in the darkness. The moon was up there somewhere, but it was obscured by clouds.
“Mr. Peaches,” she whispered. “I have a treat for you. Pss, pss, pss, pss, pss.”
There was no meow or purr in return.
