“There you are.” A soft smile touched Jane’s lips, despite her best efforts to stifle it. She didn’t want to smile at this cat. She didn’t want to be responsible for it at all, really, rain or shine. She’d noticed the thing a fortnight ago when she’d come to the mews after a mount to ride in the park, and then she’d had the misfortune to go and discover that the cat had kittens of all things. She’d seen one of the furry little things peeking from behind a bush in the alley, obviously awaiting her mother’s return. A lone cat was one thing, but kittens were another matter entirely. Add to that the mama cat’s scrawniness and obvious hunger, and Jane couldn’t stop herself from making a trip to the kitchens to request a bowl of scraps.

Two weeks later and she and Mrs. Cat had a standing appointment here every morning. Today was the first time it had begun raining while Jane waited. She’d have to remember to leave her book inside next time.

Jane stooped and set the bowl near the wall, remaining in a crouched position. The cat licked her lips and charged toward it, hungrily plunging her face into the meal and gobbling.

“My, you’re a greedy one.” Jane shook her head slightly. “Reminds me of the manner in which I used to eat when I was a child.” She laughed. “I suppose I must continue to feed you so you can keep those babies healthy, but you certainly don’t make it easy for me by arriving late in the rain.”

She patted the cat’s head, ignoring her thoughts of fleas or worse. She’d promptly wipe her hands as soon as she returned to the comfort of the house.

“How are the kittens?” Jane asked, raindrops sliding down her nose.

The cat’s only answer was more hungry smacking.

“I imagine you’re quite busy,” Jane continued, readjusting her book under her arm. “I don’t envy you. Having to keep food on the, er, table for your children with nary a paw lifted from Mr. Cat, I presume.”

The cat continued to eat, steadfastly ignoring her provider.

Jane clucked her tongue. “I completely understand. Exactly why I intend to remain unattached and further the cause of women in Society, Mrs. Cat. Just like Mary Wollstonecraft.”

The cat paused and eyed her askance, her green eyes narrowed, as if she understood what Jane had said.

Jane hiked her eyebrows. “I know what you’re thinking. Mary Wollstonecraft was married. I know. Of course I know. But that doesn’t mean I have to be. I rather think I’ll accomplish much more for the cause if I’m not distracted by a man and his children.”

The cat looked up from her meal and blinked at her. Was that judgment in the cat’s eyes? Had this cat become acquainted with Jane’s mother? Jane swiped the rain from her spectacles.

“Speaking of marriage,” Jane continued, as the cat returned to concentrating on her breakfast. “My friend Cass is getting married and I am leaving today for the country to attend the wedding. I won’t be around for a bit.”