Page 35 of Whiskers and Wiles

“It is,” Waldorf agreed.

They stood where they were, staring at each other for several, long moments. Kat felt so battered and bruised on the inside that she was surprised it had not yet manifested in blood seeping from her pores to show how wounded she truly was.

Waldorf looked defeated as well. His shoulders sagged, and even though he was attempting to keep a brave face, Kat saw the younger, more open, wounded man beneath his aged exterior.

She would always see the young, passionate man Waldorf had been, the man she had loved like no other. There would never be another Waldorf in her life.

“Very well, then,” Waldorf said, nodding. “We part ways now. Good evening, madam.” He bowed slightly. “It has been…fascinating knowing you.”

“And you, sir.” Kat returned his nod.

Again, they stood staring at each other for several, long seconds. Waldorf did not look as though he would move, so Kat took it upon herself to take the first step. Hands clenched over her stomach, she propelled herself toward the doorway.

Waldorf followed, but before either of them could get more than halfway across the room, a tall, stately gentleman dressed completely in black, including his neckcloth, stepped into the doorway, blocking their path.

Dread instantly sizzled across Kat’s skin. She’d never seen the man before, but she knew the look of an executioner when she saw one.

“What is the meaning of this?” Waldorf demanded, though by his hoarse tone, it was clear that he, too, knew the man could not represent anything good.

“I have been sent to fetch you,” the man said, his voice as deep as the grave.

“By whom?” Kat asked.

The man stared at her unblinkingly for a moment, then repeated, “I have been sent to fetch you.”

Kat swallowed. She glanced nervously to Waldorf as she tried to force herself to breathe and face the consequences of her actions bravely. “Please feed Napoleon for me,” she asked Waldorf in a broken voice, then stepped forward.

Waldorf nodded, but before Kat could take her second step, the black-clad man said, “I have been sent to fetchbothof you.”

Kat froze, then glanced back to Waldorf. The color was swiftly draining from Waldorf’s face as he stared back at the man in black.

For a moment, Waldorf’s jaw worked, as if he were scrambling for something to say. It was as likely as not that he wished to ask the same question Kat had attempted to ask, or more along those lines. He seemed to know he would not get an answer, however.

Finally, he blew out a short breath then stepped forward, joining Kat. “Very well,” he said in a small voice. “Lead on.”

The black-clad man nodded once, then gestured to the two of them. “You will follow me,” he said, then turned and walked out into the hallway.

Kat spared a single glance for Waldorf as she started forward. The black-clad man led them away from the ballroom and farther down the corridor until he reached a discreet, closed door. Waldorf glanced back at her, his expression telling her to be strong.

The black-clad man opened the door, but instead of it leading to another parlor, it opened into a tight, spiral staircase. The only way to go was up, so with both Waldorf and the man in black following, almost pushing her along, Kat began her journey to what felt like the end of everything.

Eleven

He would protectKat at all costs. Even though he was so furious with her that he was nearly beyond speech. Even though she had destroyed years of work and likely set the cause of unity back by a decade. Even though it might cost him his own life in the process. He would protect Kat, because the idea of failing to stand by her side in the moment when she needed him most was an even greater crime than anything she had committed.

But he was going to make her pay for her foolishness.

That is, if they were still alive come morning.

Part of him wanted to ask where they were being taken as they walked up the cold, winding staircase tucked away in Ryman House. The stone steps were worn from what was probably generations of servants or sinners being led to their doom or away from the mischief they’d caused. The tight space was lit with only small, flickering lamps that made it seem as though ghosts were laughing at them from the uneven stone walls as they continued up.

The staircase had probably been there as part of whatever, much older building Ryman House had been built on, and it hadlikely seen much worse than his and Kat’s walk of shame, but that didn’t stop Waldorf from feeling as though everything in his life was about to come to a head.

“There’s a door,” Kat’s tremulous voice said from just above him.

“It is where your superior awaits,” the man in black said behind him.

Waldorf swore he could see Kat’s throat constrict as she swallowed sickly, then said, “Should…should I knock?”

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