Page 13 of To Defy a Highland Duke

That realization shouldn’t have produced the satisfaction it did.

“Mama?” The youngest lass pointed a wee finger to the entrance.

Her daughters had remained so quiet and obedient that he’d almost forgotten their presence.

Ah, I see ye took my advice about teaching them proper comportment.

These lasses’ polite behavior stemmed from years of instruction and practice. Something akin to shame clawed Keane’s conscience for his contemptuous remark earlier.

Christ on the blessed cross. I’m a bloody cod pated arse.

“What are they?” Cora whispered, her voice a combination of fascination and fear.

Marjorie turned to look to where her daughter pointed.

“Giant kitties.” Elana gasped and surged forward, but her mother seized her arm while tossing a frantic glance over her shoulder to Keane.

Grinning, he cocked an eyebrow. “Miss Cora and Miss Elana, would ye like to meet Chimera and Sphynx?” He winked and whispered sotto voce, “They’re Scottish wildcats I rescued as kittens.”

“Are they friendly?” Looking markedly uncertain, Marjorie bit her lower lip.

Hell and damn. How he longed to suck that plump pillow into his mouth and worship the tender sweetness the way it deserved.

Clearing his throat, he tamped down his lust. For God’s sake, mon. Her daughters stood but inches away, and he lusted after Marjorie as if he were a callow youth.

“I’m not sure…” Again, she sent him a questioning glance.

He couldn’t fault her for her caution. He’d already learned she’d take on anyone and anything to safeguard her daughters.

“Aye, quite gentle.” He winked once more. For her, this time.

Her pretty brown eyes rounded in surprise, and fetching pink tinted her porcelain cheeks.

The cats sat on their haunches, their keen citrine eyes taking in the intruders to their domicile with bored disinterest. To the inexperienced eye, the rangy, thick-coated felines appeared like overgrown tabbies. Immensely overgrown tabby cats.

Chimera caught sight of the lasses first. Ears twitching, she nonchalantly padded across the floor, her long tail swishing lazily in her wake. Several guests warily eyed the lithe feline. Four feet from the tips of their black noses to the tips of their bushy ebony tails, the cats frequently gave newcomers quite a start the first time they saw them.

Not to be outdone by her sister, Sphynx yawned, exposing impressive canines before she too sauntered toward the girls.

Her distrustful gaze trained on the feline sisters, Marjorie emitted a little worried sound in her throat and drew her daughters closer.

Keane stepped forward and touched her arm. “I’ve raised them since before their eyes opened. I give ye my word, Marjorie, they’re gentle as kittens.”

He was mindful not to say harmless, for he’d seen what they could do if angered.

A former stable hand had despised cats and, unbeknownst to Keane, teased and taunted the pair unmercifully. One day, Chimera had had enough and pinned the scunner to the floor, her mouth upon his throat but not breaking the skin. Had she wished to do so, she could have ended his life in an instant.

He’d fled that day and never returned. Good thing too, because Keane would’ve dismissed him after giving him a well-deserved thrashing.

Eyes half-shut, the cats rubbed their heads against Keane’s calves, marking their territory. He squatted and scratched behind their ears. “Ye want to meet the lassies, do ye?” He brushed a hand over each of their big heads. “Sit.”

One of the few tricks he’d taught them.

Both promptly sat, gazing at him expectantly, yet looking appropriately bored and put upon as cats were wont to do. The cats hissed every time Lady Constance, Uncle Bothan, or Lorne came near.

Smart animals. They knew offal when they saw it.

He held out a hand to Elana. “Come here. ’Tis all right, I promise ye.”