Something distracted the dog, for he looked worriedly off to the left.
“Alexander,” Will said again, more firmly. “Sit.”
Alexander—if it was Alexander—turned in a circle, then lay down.
“A right genius,” Ash observed. “Cam’s dog to the life.”
Will tossed the dog a treat. “Good boy, Alexander.” The dog’s training had probably been haphazard in the March household, so a reward for paying attention—for trying—was in order. “Sycamore, do not think of getting out that leash. If the last time Alexander was leashed, he was also beaten, injured, and dragged from his home, then a leash is the last—”
Alexander got up, his gaze going to the undergrowth. A rabbit, perhaps, and this dog could not afford to be indifferent to rabbits.
Will tossed three pieces of cheese at the dog’s feet. “You’d have to work to bring down the rabbit, while the cheese is yours for the asking.”
“Will is spouting courtship analogies,” Cam said. “Or something.”
“Will speaks dog, while you speak only nonsense,” Ash retorted. “It’s getting dark, in case either of you failed to remark the obvious. We need to either capture that dog, or live to befriend him another day.”
“Ash wants to pant at Lady Della’s delicate feet again tonight,” Cam said. “I’m not leaving without my puppy.”
Will worked steadily closer to the dog, the whole time talking to him, tossing out treats, and trying to establish a rapport. Alexander’s owner had been a woman, while his trust had been abused by men, so progress was slow.
“There’s a lad,” Will said, taking two steps closer. “You’re in need of sustenance, my boy. You’d best eat all the cheese I toss at you, because on Cam’s allowance, you won’t enjoy many feasts.”
“What allowance?” Ash asked. “Cam owes every penny of it to you, me, or the corner pub.”
Will extended a gloved hand a few inches toward the dog. The gash above the left eye ought to have been stitched, but appeared to be healing cleanly. The scar would disfigure an otherwise handsome countenance.
“Shall we be friends?” Will asked, scanning the undergrowth. “Casual acquaintances will do, provided you let me take you back to my stables. A few meals, a few sessions with the hand signals and the treats, and you’ll be—damn.”
The deerhound had come into the clearing, and Alexander’s response was to look away, fleetingly at Will, then up the path.
The deerhound growled, and Alexander, being a sensible soul, loped off at a smart clip.
“Willow, you let him get away!” Cam yelled, coming off the bench. “You let that poor, injured, helpless dog simply run off. And, you”—he turned to the deerhound—“you’re no help at all. Don’t expect any treats from me, you great lout. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, acting the bullyboy to a fellow who’s down on his luck.”
The deerhound cocked its head, as if Cam were some incomprehensible creature that fit into neither predator nor prey categories. In the next instant, the dog was off through the undergrowth, running in the opposite direction Alexander had gone.
“And you,” Will said, shoving the cheese at his brother, “ensured neither dog will come back for a good long while. Thank you for making the outing not only a complete loss, Cam, but a setback. Alexander might be fifty yards away, but he can hear you, and hear your threatening tone of voice. Badly done of you.”
“I behold a miracle,” Ash said, sauntering over from the bench. “Sycamore Dorning is silent, which happens occasionally when he sleeps, and—Willow, you are my witness—he’s holding food without consuming it. Signs and wonders on every hand. Shall we be off, gentlemen? Casriel might be hiding at his little card party, but I intend to go dancing tonight with a dark-haired lady. She owes me a waltz, and I always collect my debts.”
Susannah would expect a report on the evening’s outing, and Will purely wanted to see her.
“The Breadalbane ball is tonight,” Will said, though maybe it was the Henningtons’. “Cam, you’ll doubtless want to pay homage to the punch bowl.”
“Right,” Cam said, tossing a bit of cheese into the air, then catching it in his mouth. “Punch bowls and I get along famously. Alexander and I will get on famously too, starting tomorrow night.”
While Will and Susannah were getting on…reasonably well, when she expected the impossible of him, and he knew not how to refuse her.
*
“What do you mean, you ran into a slight difficulty?” Effington asked, stroking a hand over Yorick’s bony head. “All I asked you to do was put a green garter in a location above stairs where it would be easily found, then remark upon it, and point out the similarity to Lady Della’s dress.”