Still Life (sort of) with Cat

Kitty bottoms must be kept warm and can’t be allowed to rest on cold marble of window sills. Hence the white towel-covered pillow on the window sill in the dining area. 🙂 (When Jago first became ill in May 2007, I started to keep the cat pillows covered with old white towels and old white pillow cases as these can be boiled if necessary.)

And so here is a picture of my dining table with the mid-day sun falling in through the windows. The yellow of the walls is a bit darker and warmer in reality, and sunlight makes it positively glow.

One of the books I bought during the 60% rebates on everything offer at Fictionwise, is this anthology:

I bought it because of the Lisa Kleypas story, of course. (Yup, still glomming Kleypas.) Nevertheless, I started with Loretta Chase’s “The Mad Earl’s Bride” and LOVED it! The ending is, perhaps, a bit abrupt, but who cares? It’s a lovely story, with a no-nonsense heroine and a tormented hero (who’s actually got a good reason for being tormented!). And adorable Bertie Trent! 🙂

Favourite passages include:

“It’s only Gwen,” Bertie was saying, misconstruing the issues, as usual. “She ain’t half bad, for a girl. Not like Jess—but I shouldn’t wish m’sister on anybody, especially you, even though you’d be m’brother then, because I can’t think of anything worse than a fellow having to listen to her the livelong day. Not but what Dain can manage her—but he’s bigger than you, and even so, I daresay he’s got his hands full. Still, they’re already shackled, so you’re safe from her, and Gwen ain’t like her at all. When Abonville told us you was wanting to get married, and he was thinking Gwen would suit, I said—”

“Bertie, I wasn’t wanting to get married,” Dorian broke in. “It is a ridiculous mistake.”


Dorian laughed. “Dain was still at Eton when Bertie first came,” he explained. “About once a fortnight, Bertie would fall down the stairs or trip over something or otherwise contrive to stumble into His Lordship’s path. Fortunately, I was on the spot the first time and hustled Bertie away before Dain could dispose of him by more violent means. After that, whenever your cousin strayed into the Satanic presence, His Lordship would summon me. ‘Camoys,’ he would say, as cool as you please. ‘It’s back. Make it go away.’ And so I would make Bertie disappear.”

“I can see Dain doing it. And you, too.” She patted his arm. “It is your protective streak.”

“It was my instinct for self-preservation,” Dorian indignantly informed her. “I was scarcely twelve, and Dain, even at sixteen, was as big as a house. He had but to set one huge hand on my head to squash me like a bug.” He grinned. “Still, I admired him tremendously. I should have given anything to get away with what he did.”

Further favourite passages are unquotable because they contain spoilers (and kisses! and other stuff *g*) .