Free Daughter of Deceit by Patricia Sprinkle Page B

a little uneasy, too?
    Katharine was so accustomed to silence in the house that another voice was a pleasant change, but not all that she heard was pleasant. From the kitchen came the wails of an unhappy cat. She hurried to open the door and Phebe, the smaller of her two calicos, streaked across the hall and into Tom’s library.
    “Did you shut the cat in the kitchen?” she demanded at the door of the room.
    “Sure. You know I don’t want her in here.” He carried the squirming cat to the door and dumped her in Katharine’s arms.
    She carried the cat and followed him back into the library, stroking the irate little animal to calm her. Maybe it was the result of everything she’d been wanting to say to Posey about her driving and hadn’t, compounded by anger at the delivery company for dropping heavy, valuable boxes on her doorstep as if they were junk mail, further compounded by her worry that Tom would be angry, but for whatever reason, she opened her mouth and surprised them both.
    “If you lived here all the time, you could set boundaries where the cats are concerned, but since you are usually here two days a week and Phebe’s here seven, I think that gives her squatter’s rights, don’t you? She doesn’t hurt a thing, she’s fully house trained, and she doesn’t climb your shelves. She merely likes to sleep on the rug by your fireplace. I think she’s come to regard it as her own. So have I.”
    Katharine loosened her grip, and Phebe leaped from her arms. The cat stalked past Tom with a haughty tail in air and curled herself on the small Oriental.
    Tom looked from Katharine to the cat and back again with a startled expression. “I see.” He walked over to the shelf and chose a book, held it for a second with his back to her, then started for his desk. He paused by the rug on his way back to his briefcase. “Okay, Phebe, the rug is yours. May I keep rights to the desk?” He stroked her gently and gave Katharine a rueful grin.
    She was shocked by the unaccustomed taste of victory.
    In his job, Tom was famous for logical reasoning and working out compromises. He was also famous for never speaking without thinking first. Those were some of the things that made him excellent at what he did. At home, though, she had always catered to his preferences. She had believed it was what a good wife did. After all, he had enough conflict to deal with in his job, and was home too seldom to need hassles during the time he was there.
    This quick win opened up all sorts of possibilities.
    “How was your meeting?” he asked.
    She blinked, needing a second to remember where she had been. “Good. Ann Rose got a number of volunteers, including Posey.”
    “Posey? She went?”
    “She drove me—in a new red convertible Wrens bought yesterday for her birthday.”
    “Her birthday’s not until next month.”
    “I know. She hopes he’ll forget the car by then.”
    Tom looked her up and down. “And you came home in one piece? Amazing.”
    “There were a couple of times when I figured you’d have to order a coffin, but we survived.” Enough banter. “Are you going somewhere?”
    He hesitated. She knew that look. Tom hated to disappoint anybody, especially her. “Sorry, hon. I’ve got real good news and sorta bad news. Which do you want first?”
    “The good news isn’t anything like a terrific trip that means you are going to be out of town for our party, is it?” She couldn’t keep a tremor out of her voice.
    “I am committed to be here for the party. I promised. But that’s two weeks away. The bad news is that some senators are squabbling right now and we’re caught in the middle. I need to go up and sort things out. I’ll fly back Thursday night and take off Friday so we can have a long weekend to tie up loose ends. And I’ll come home the following Thursday, too. I promise. But I do have to go to Washington this week.” He went to the shelves to choose another book. Tom never went anywhere without