"Malcolm," Lady Danbury cooed, "come to Mama."

Malcolm ignored her.

"I have a treat for you."

The cat yawned, recognized Lady D as his primary source of food, and hopped down.

"Lady Danbury," Elizabeth scolded, "you know that cat is too fat."

"Nonsense."

Elizabeth shook her head. Malcolm weighed at least a stone, although a good portion of that was fur. She spent the better part of every evening after she returned home defurring her clothing.

Which was really quite remarkable, since the snobby beast hadn't deigned to let her hold him in five years.

"Good kitty," Lady D said, holding out her arms.

"Stupid cat," Elizabeth muttered as the ecru-colored feline stopped, stared at her, then went on his way.

"You're such a sweet thing." Lady D rubbed her hand against his furry belly. "Such a sweet thing."

The cat stretched out on Lady Danbury's lap, laying on his back with his paws hanging over his head.

"That isn't a cat," Elizabeth said. "It's a poor excuse for a rug."

Lady D raised a brow. "I know you don't mean that, Lizzie Hotchkiss."

"Yes, I do."

"Nonsense. You love Malcolm."

"Like I love Attila the Hun."

"Well, Malcolm loves you."

The cat lifted his head, and Elizabeth would swear he stuck his tongue out at her.

Elizabeth stood, letting out an indignant squeak. “That cat is a menace. I'm going to the library."

"Good idea. Go find me a new book."

Elizabeth headed for the door.

"And nothing with 'begat'!"

Elizabeth laughed in spite of herself and headed across the hall to the library. The clicking sound of her footsteps disappeared as she stepped onto the carpet, and she sighed. Good heavens, there were a lot of books here. Where on earth to start?

She selected a few novels, then pulled down a collection of Shakespeare's comedies. A slim volume of romantic poetry joined the pile, and then, just as she was about to cross the hall back to Lady D's drawing room, another book caught her eye.