Appetites & Vices--A Jewish Victorian Historical Romance by Felicia Grossman

Author:Felicia Grossman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Carina Press
Published: 2018-11-13T17:29:10+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

Something cold invaded Jay’s face, cold and wet. He blinked. When his eyes adjusted to the dim light streaming through the drapes he stared into large green eyes surrounded by white fluff. Not the Nunes he’d have wanted, but after the previous afternoon, a man could dream.

Arte yawned and the scent of rotting meat and fish wafted over him.

Disgusting.

This was why he hated animals.

“Why don’t you go back and bother her for your breakfast?” The cat didn’t answer. Arte instead jumped a second time on Jay’s chest, sinking her claws into the head of his dragon. Ridiculous beast. “I don’t care if it takes her two hours to put on all her undergarments, that’s just the way of things. It’s certainly not my fault. You belong to her, not me.”

He stroked the silky white fur despite himself.

Arte closed her eyes and nuzzled his hand. What was wrong with the creature? Couldn’t she take a hint? He sighed.

“I know, I know. Any attention right now will do.” He scratched her ears. “Just so you know, if it was up to me she’d not wear anything under her dresses, or at all and would already be ready to feed you.”

Now that was an image. He placed a hand behind his back ready to indulge just a little, but Arte had other ideas. She stretched her claws again. He was surprised she didn’t draw blood. “Fine. I’ll get up. You know there’s a full staff? Why aren’t you bothering any of them?”

Still grumbling, he rose to pull on his trousers. He stumbled to the window and pushed open the shutters. A mistake.

The air floating in was already beyond warm. If only they could all go naked. With deep regret, he buttoned his shirt. He stared at his frock coat but couldn’t quite muster the energy or desire to even attempt it. Same with the necktie. Half undone was better than fully, wasn’t it?

He wrinkled his nose at his stockings. Ah, to be able to go barefoot. Not possible. The servants would think him mad, or worse suspect things.

Presentable...ish, he strolled down the hall, Arte in tow. When they reached the stairs, the cat yowled like a banshee.

Jay sucked in a breath. Just like her owner, always had to get her way. He bent down, and the creature leapt into his arms in a flurry of stray hairs. At least his shirt was white.

“You’re a real bother, you know that?” he told Arte as they descended.

The cat nuzzled his tie. Before he could scold her, the front door creaked. Jay started as Urs’ uncle stepped through the threshold, a manservant stumbling behind with a case. He met Jay’s eye and frowned.

Jay’d interacted with the man only once, the day after he arrived, when he’d been shoved into the office to sign some sort of Jewish document regarding his betrothal to Urs in front of the butler and another man. The thing was in Hebrew or some similar language. Levy hadn’t even greeted him or shook his hand during the entire event.

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