Georgette growled again, and the stray sat. Not a growl, not a bark—and not a retreat to the undergrowth either. Susannah approved of this dog, though she couldn’t fault Georgette’s protectiveness.
“I’ll be along in a moment,” Susannah said. “My new friend and I will pass the time while Georgette and Samson take the air.”
Will did not want to leave, Susannah knew that, but she couldn’t control Georgette if Will’s pet turned up headstrong; therefore, Will must be the one to remove Georgette and Samson.
“Don’t approach him, Susannah,” Will said, leading the dogs to the path. “Don’t pet him, don’t make friends with him. He seems healthy enough, but if he’s rabid, even his saliva on your skin could mean your death.”
The look in the dog’s eye was entirely sane. Sad, bewildered, and tired—Susannah knew exactly how that felt—but sane.
“I won’t lay a hand on him,” Susannah said. “Tell Georgette not to growl. She’s setting a bad example for Samson.”
Will led the dogs off, but of course he didn’t chide Georgette. Mastiffs were protective by nature, as apparently was Susannah.
She wanted to pet the injured dog, wanted to promise him that if he gave her an ounce of trust, she’d make sure he had a cozy stable to sleep in and a juicy bone to gnaw on.
“You haven’t done anything to deserve this rough patch,” Susannah said as more cheese met its fate. “I’m sorry for that. Della hasn’t done anything to deserve such a difficult start to her come-out, either. If you and I meet again, I’ll do what I can to make matters come right for you.”
The dog sat, as if somebody had instructed him that treats were only dispensed to canine gentlemen. Susannah did as Will instructed, and threw several bites at once, then sprinkled a few more in the grass nearer where she stood.
“He’s ravenous,” Susannah said, when she’d rejoined Will. “I strongly suspect that is Lady March’s missing dog. His name was Alexander, if I recall correctly.” A great warrior who’d died much too young.
“Yes, Alexander,” Will said, blinking as a drop of rain hit the side of his nose. Susannah wiped the raindrop away with her fingers, for there wasn’t another soul in sight. “I will remind Cam of the dog’s name, in case you’re right, my lady. Now, all I want to do is get you, my dogs, and myself home.”
Will was being polite, straining at the leash of good manners. Susannah suspected he’d rather lecture her about repairing leases, stray dogs, and Effington’s shortcomings.
About which, Susannah would think later.
“The temperature has dropped,” she said. “I hate to think of that poor dog out in the storm, lost and hungry.”
“Hold this,” Will said, passing Susannah a leash and taking the treat bag from her. He passed her the second leash, and told both dogs to stay. “We can at least make sure he won’t be hungry, if that’s Alexander. I’ll be but a moment.”
Susannah waited, both dogs panting gently against her skirts, and more raindrops speckling the path at her feet. She’d become fond of her old straw hat, and a downpour would ruin it, but Susannah’s mood had improved for meeting Will in the park.
She wanted to prove to Lord Effington that she’d become a dog fancier, and Willow Dorning, trainer of the Regent’s spaniels, had just entrusted her with two of his most beloved canines.
Surely even Will had to admit Susannah was ready to meet Effington’s challenge?
*
“Lady Susannah has taken it into her head that Effington must offer for Lady Della,” Will fumed as he walked along with his younger brothers. “Somebody else has decided that Lady Della’s chances of a match must be thoroughly blighted, and thus my chances of a match with Lady Susannah, while not blighted, are certainly not uppermost in her mind. Where’s Casriel off to tonight?”
A look passed between Cam and Ash, one that spoke to the novelty of Will asking them about anything to do with the earl, when Will had the job of keeping Casriel organized.
“Casriel is playing cards at the home of that Scottish earl, MacHugh,” Ash said. “An excuse to dodge the matchmakers under the guise of gentlemanly bonhomie.”
“Playing for farthing points, then,” Will said as they crossed into the park. The fashionable hour had ended, and soon the park would become the playground of pickpockets, streetwalkers, and footpads, but light yet remained in the sky, and Cam and Ash were insurance against petty thieves.
“Have you offered for Lady Susannah?” Ash asked, ever so casually.
“I have not,” Will replied. “Not that it’s any of your business. My prospects are limited, and she’s much taken with the idea of launching her younger sister first.”
Will could not afford to offer for Lady Susannah. Should he dismantle the lucrative scheme of some aristocratic dognapper, he’d be lucky to afford Georgette’s cheese snacks, and yet Susannah expected him to do just that.