Synopsis: Francesca Hartwell adores cats of every kind. Lions, leopards, tigers. And they all love her. Good thing she gets to see them every day, since her father is their caregiver in the Tower of London’s Royal Menagerie. She’d love to find a man with whom she could share her love of animals, but so far, no one has stolen her heart. And there’s the added snag that whoever she marries must not have anything to do with nobility, as her mother had left her and her father for an earl.
John Fairgate has three rules given to him by his uncle. Inherit the title of baron upon his uncle’s death. Give up ornithology. And marry a childhood acquaintance. The first two, John will abide by, but won’t like. But the third, marrying a shrew who makes his skin crawl, he simply cannot do. Meeting Miss Francesca Hartwell at the zoo, however, has given him other ideas for a wife. But she’s not titled or wealthy. How will he be able to convince his uncle that she’s the woman of his heart?
This man’s dress marked him as someone with means. Perhaps he was a person of consequence, someone who would contribute to the cause of the zoo? Something which could only help her father retain his position. It might behoove her to be kind to him, since they’d now introduced themselves.
His gesture of kissing her hand had caused uneasiness and discomfort, and yet… Why did her stomach quiver as if filled with tiny fluttering birds flapping their wings to escape? The back of her hand tingled, even though his lips hadn’t actually made contact. But his breath had warmed her skin, radiating up her arm, to her chest, neck, and face, like sunshine on a July day.
Mr. Fairgate’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “Now that we’ve been properly introduced, I’ll proceed to the intended purpose for my visit. I must say, I’ve quite been looking forward to seeing what’s new here.”
She swept her arm toward the cages. “If you’re here to see some of the wild cats, perhaps I can be of assistance.”
“Oh?” He raised his eyebrows. “Do you work here?”
“No. My father is chief caretaker of all of the different large cats. So I spend much of my time here. I know quite a bit about them, if you have any questions.” What was she doing? She sounded prideful. He must think her—
“That would be splendid. I have always admired cats, big or small, so any information you can supply would be most appreciated.”
A sigh of relief escaped her lips. Even if he did think her forward, he seemed not to mind. If her father had heard her just now, he would be displeased. Again. Wasn’t he always chiding her for being too outspoken for a woman? Too forward? Too opinionated?
She pointed toward the leopard’s cage. “This is Belle, the Tower’s newest leopard.”
“Such a gorgeous animal. And quite… large. I had not expected a leopard to be such.”
“Yes, she is large. Partly due to expecting a litter.” Her face warmed. Why did I let those words slip from my mouth? While she easily discussed anything having to do with the cats’ care with her father, she was embarrassed to speak of such a delicate matter as giving birth to a stranger.
Especially this stranger.
He lifted the corners of his mouth, forming deep dimples. “Ah. How marvelous. Very soon the world will have several more cats to admire.”
What a wonderful thought. Her father would only grumble that it would cause more work for him. The workers would complain that they would have to make sure the mother had extra shares of food so she could nurse her cubs. But Mr. Fairgate seemed to appreciate them. Their beauty. As she did.
“I agree. Most likely, she’ll have anywhere from one to four in the litter.” She sighed. “Leopard cubs are delightful.”
He tilted his head toward the cage. “I shall have to return after the cubs are here. I should so love to see them.”
“Indeed, once she has them, I daresay her cage will be most popular with visitors for awhile. Perhaps people will take time to watch them instead of the smelly bear around the corner.”
Mr. Fairgate laughed. This time, it bothered Francesca not a whit. On the contrary, it sparked something within her, bringing every sight and sound around her into sharper focus. Brighter. Louder. More vivid. As if she’d never fully experienced life until this moment. Until meeting him. But why?
“A smelly bear. That sounds not in the least appealing. But cats of any sort, I’ve always had a fondness for. As a boy, I’d often play with them when others might ignore them or be cruel. I’d sneak them into the house until found out, and reluctantly return them to the out-of-doors.”
She smiled. How alike they seemed in that manner. “Oh, I agree. More often than not, I would rather have spent time with my house cats than with most people.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “And you are not alone in sneaking your cats inside. Just the thought of mine toiling outside in the wind and rain of winter or in summer’s heat had me in tears many a night.”
“How pleasant it might have been had we been acquainted as children, to have the same fondness for our pets.”
Blushing, Francesca nodded. Never had she met someone as fond of cats as she was. And never had she spoken so with a man, especially not with a man so appealing. She swallowed hard, glancing behind her. But what would Papa say if he saw her right then?
“I’ve been away due to my position as an ornithologist. It has been too long of a time since I’ve visited the zoo. Especially now.” He tilted his head toward the cage. “As the leopard shall soon have her cubs. That is an event I would hate to miss.”
“Perhaps you will be fortunate enough to visit when it… occurs.” References to the physical act of giving birth still refused to slide easily from her lips.
He placed his hand on one of the bars of the cage’s gate and nodded. “You know, I— Ahhh!” He widened his eyes as the gate creaked and opened beneath his grip.
Francesca gasped. Saul must not have fastened the latch when he’d hurried away from Belle! She grabbed for Mr. Fairgate’s arm, but touched only air. He stumbled as the gate creaked open. Tripping, he fell into Belle’s pen, landing with a thud.
Belle crouched low, lashing her long tail. She bared her teeth, growling much as she’d done to Saul. But this time was different. This time Mr. Fairgate was not in a position to run. He had fallen and was now at the mercy of the angry, expectant cat.
Rushing forward into the cage, Francesca positioned herself beside Mr. Fairgate. “Shhh, Belle, it’s fine. No need to be afraid.”
Mr. Fairgate whipped his gaze away from the cat to her. “She’s afraid? I daresay she cannot feel the terror running through her veins as I do in mine!” He trained his gaze back toward Belle and scampered back, his boots scraping through the dirt. But he crashed into the stone wall and could go no further. He swallowed hard, his face draining of color.
Francesca took slow steps, reaching out her hand toward Belle. Keeping her voice barely above a whisper, she spoke to the cat. “There now, Belle. Mr. Fairgate is an acquaintance of mine. He’ll not hurt you. You have no need to put up such a fuss.”
“Miss Hartwell—” Mr. Fairgate’s voice was a hoarse whisper.
Francesca bent down, now on eye level with the cat. “Belle, I know you aren’t feeling well right now, but we must be nice to our visitors.” She peeked over her shoulder.
Mr. Fairgate opened his mouth, but no words escaped. He clamped his teeth together, and swallowed. “Miss Hartwell, what are you doing? You’ll be killed!”
“Nonsense. Belle and I are friends, aren’t we, girl?” Francesca angled back toward the cat. Belle’s whiskers twitched as she yawned, exposing long, sharp teeth. She lowered her head and lay down on her belly, her chin resting on her paws. Francesca reached out her hand, wiggling her fingers. Belle closed her eyes partway and sniffed Francesca’s hand.
“But—” Mr. Fairgate shuffled in the dirt behind her. A small cloud of dust filtered throughout the cage.
Francesca stayed still, letting Belle continue to sniff her hand, fingers and nails. Once finished, Belle turned away and groomed her paws, her rough, pink tongue wetting her spotted fur. The cat, content to see to her own toilette, seemed no longer concerned with people in her midst.
“See? It’s all fine.” Francesca turned around and reached out her hand to Mr. Fairgate, much as she’d done to Belle. He eyed the leopard for several more seconds before peering up at Francesca. Eyes locked on her outstretched hand, he grasped it, allowing her to help him stand. Once he regained his balance and seemed not likely to faint, she released his hand.
Ruth Hartman
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