Free Eyes of the Cat by Mimi Riser

business has only begun.”
    Taking her by the shoulders when she refused to budge, he gently turned her around and propelled her toward the keep with a not so gentle swat on the bustle.
    “Why, you—” She whirled back, intent on some serious swatting of her own.
    “Later.” He chuckled, catching her hand in mid-flight and kissing it before she could jerk free. “Now to bed with you. But on your way there, I’ve a question for you to ponder.”
    “ Yesss ?” she hissed, glaring murder at him.
    “I want you to decide who you’re really afraid of. Me?… Or yourself.” The chuckle deepened into a full laugh at the fury on her face. “Now you’d best leave. Before I decide to ignore the mud.”
    Almost strangling on her own tongue, Tabitha snatched up her skirts and beat a beeline to the keep, his laughter burning in her ears the whole way.
     
     
     
     
    Chapter 3
     
    “I should have scattered a trail of bread crumbs after myself when I left, so I could find my way back. I think I’m just going around in circles. Everything is starting to look the same,” Tabitha grumbled as she padded down what seemed the hundredth winding passageway she’d tried since reentering the keep. She’d found another lit candle, but it wasn’t helping much. “Honestly, this place is laid out like an unfinished jigsaw puzzle. I’ll never reach my room at this rate.”
    She sighed when the passage ended abruptly in a semicircular alcove. The area was bare, save for a few stools off to one side and a large, three-section Oriental screen standing near the back, looking rather incongruous. How curious. What could it be there for?
    “ Aahoooeeeeahhh …”
    The sudden screech rattled overwrought nerves. Tabitha’s hair stood on end.
    “ Death… Death… Leave before it’s too late !” a banshee voice wailed. “ Ahooeeeooahh …”
    Uh-huh.
    Silently, Tabitha crept toward the screen, like a cat stalking a mouse. With a single quick move, she grabbed the nearest panel and snapped it back. The screen wobbled, overbalanced and tipped over, landing on the wood floor with a heavy thud.
    “Oh! Now see what you’ve done!” A tall, willowy young woman with extravagant red hair, piercing blue eyes, and an almost blinding canary yellow negligee stood staring at the screen in dismay. She stamped her foot. “If it’s been damaged, Uncle Angus will hang me by my thumbs and then have me hurled into the moat! That screen belonged to his mother.”
    She glanced at Tabitha, her brows suddenly pulled together with thought. “Or, maybe it was his grandmother’s. I can’t remember. Anyway”—she heaved a dramatic sigh—“he’s very fond of it. Here, help me set it right. I’m Mary MacAllister, by the way. But I detest being called Mary—it’s too mundane—so I’ve changed my name to Esmeralda,” she chattered as the screen was lifted back into position. “What do you think?”
    Tabitha was studying the ornate panels as best she could by the light of her candle. “It looks all right to me.”
    Mary-Esmeralda gave a disgusted snort. “I didn’t mean the screen! Who cares about that silly old thing?” She gave it a kick that almost toppled it again. “I want to know how you like my name . Don’t you think Esmeralda has the wildest, most romantic sound to it?” She closed her eyes in ecstasy.
    “Why, yes,” Tabitha said in the voice she reserved for small children and fussy lapdogs. “It makes you sound like a Spanish flamenco dancer.”
    The blue eyes snapped open. “Oh, no! That will never do. I can’t sound like a flamenco dancer. They make far too much noise. All that heel clicking and those castanets—they sound like a herd of stampeding crickets!” She angled away, her brow furrowed with furious thinking. “I know! I’ll call myself Ophelia,” she exclaimed, spinning triumphantly back to face Tabitha. “What do you think of Ophelia? Or… Wait!” She flung out an arm for attention. “Flavia! Or maybe