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Lord Darkdown walked into the drawing room with the air of one who is master of all they surveyed - true enough, Philip supposed. He'd heard of ladies getting quite attached to their pets, but going by his friends's reaction to Amanda's recently acquired pets, gentlemen were equally susceptible.
After a quick survey of the room, Lord Darkdown deigned to let Philip scratch his chin, which Philip dutifully (and, it must be said, happily) did. His reward consisted of some light purring.
"That animal is utterly perverse," Corvin said.
Thus far, for reasons Philip could not even begin to guess at, Corvin was the one exception to Lord Darkdown's benevolent tyranny; the cat avoided Corvin like the plague.
For the first week or so, Corvin had taken it as a challenge - to the amusement of the rest of them. An opportunity to see Corvin chase after someone's affections without any success was rare indeed, and the someone involved being a cat made the matter entertaining rather than painful.
"Perhaps he takes after his namesake." Philip grinned. The sensation over The Secret of Darkdown was beginning to die down, but he dared say that in another five years, Lord Darkdown might still rejoice in people recognizing his name.
"I'm far more generous with my affections," Corvin said, giving the cat a long look which it utterly ignored. "And better-looking. And far more charming, intelligent and - I don't know, what's another one of my many vices cum virtues? The list is rather long."
"Jealous without much real cause?" Philip offered good-naturedly.
"I'd rather be jealous without much real cause than ignoring someone with no cause whatsoever."
Philip sighed. "You could always ask Amanda for tips, if the matter bothers you that much."
"It doesn't," said Corvin.
Lord Darkdown purred a little louder.
"It doesn't," Corvin repeated, scowling.
"Of course not. That would be ridiculous, and we both know you are never ridiculous," said Philip.
"You and the others, on the other hand, are making perfect fools of yourselves over that animal," Corvin said, seemingly determined to prove Philip wrong. "I hear John's even consider drawing it."
Philip tried not to grin then gave up and laughed outright.
Corvin looked sour. "Yes, yes, I know. It's John, and I shouldn't take everything that comes out of his mouth as gospel truth."
"You're usually the one provoking him, rather than the other way around," said Philip, opting not to comment on Corvin's choice of expression.
"Well, he's hardly going to pull my hair because he's the one saying outrageous things, is he?"
Philip leaned forward a little and slowly, deliberately reached out his free hand to tug at Corvin's hair. "If there's something you want, you know all you need to do is ask."
"You call that hair-pulling?" said Corvin, unmoved.
"I can hardly get up and offer you a more substantial form of comfort while I'm busy petting the cat, can I?" Philip replied. "Assuming it's comfort you're after, that is."
Corvin looked at him with narrowed eyes.
Philip grinned.
"If comfort means I'll be getting you away from that animal's corrupting influence, I'll take it," said Corvin. "But don't think this is over."
"Never," said Philip.
"I was talking to the cat."
"I don't think he understands English," said Philip, rising as he grasped Corvin's hand.
Lord Darkdown stared at them both for a few seconds, before turning and walking away, head and tail held high, every inch of his furry body suggesting he had washed his hands of them.
"You were saying?" said Corvin, with a hint of a smirk.