She had risen early and sat down directly after breakfast to make a list of all the things that must be done. But she had gotten no further than item one before breaking off to stare into space, the pen forgotten in lax fingers. “Do you think I am making a mistake?” she asked Prospero, who sat beside her. The cat had materialized in his mysterious fashion just as she was assembling her morning meal and urgently requested a share. He was now indulging in a postprandial wash on the sofa cushion. “Lord Alan has assured me that nothing of that sort will happen again,” Ariel told him. Prospero raised his head and met her gaze squarely with his great golden eyes. “Even though Bess said that is all men care about,” Ariel added. Prospero’s stare was unwavering. “Which of them do you think is right?” Prospero blinked, then he rolled over on his back, seeming to savor the softness of the sofa cushion.
