She waved, causing the chiffon of her gown to flutter about. “No need. It’s easy climbing.” Then she started making cute little kissing noises. “Mittens.”
He tried to relax the tight knot that had formed in his chest. As a baron he’d spent some time in the company of virtuous ladies. Mostly he just glared and they gave up attempting to speak with him.
It wasn’t that he disliked them, he just preferred the company of women who didn’t need to talk. He did his best work when no words were required. Which was probably why he was dreaming of kissing a trail up that shapely little calf, higher under her skirts.
“Oh. I’ve found the cat,” she called down and then almost immediately. “Drat.”
“Drat?” he repeated, grabbing the branch next to him. “What’s wrong?”
“It isn’t Mittens.” Not two seconds later, a cat came streaking from the tree, landing lightly on the ground and sprinted across the square.
“Drat,” she said again.
“Drat?” he repeated because he didn’t know what else to say.
“Yes. Drat.” He heard her sigh, a high, sweet sound that vibrated across his ear. “I seem to be stuck.”