And good boy, Comus, for charming the duchess.
“Can’t you simply explain the facts to Tresham?” Will asked. “He had to know of his father’s amorous tendencies, and now that I consider the matter, Tresham and Lady Della have similar coloring.”
Similar coloring, similar glowers, similar gestures. Will would not be the last to remark the similarities. Even Effington might notice a resemblance—God help them all.
“You and Tresham have similar coloring,” Quimbey scoffed.
“I have more muscle, I’m taller, and I have the Dorning eyes,” Will said. “Shall I warn Tresham away?”
The notion was no more burdensome than paying off Cam’s vowels, or having a word with the housemaid in Dorset who’d taken a fancy to Cam. Part of looking after a pack mate.
“One doesn’t want to unnecessarily shock the young people,” Quimbey said. “Couldn’t you intimate to Jonathan that Mr. Ash Dorning has an inheritance that will allow him to offer for a young lady in a year or two?”
“I’m not comfortable dissembling, Your Grace. What if Tresham confronted Ash about this nonexistent inheritance? The truth is usually the best choice.”
“Spoken like a man with a clear conscience,” His Grace muttered. Comus put his chin on the duke’s knee, Georgette sighed, and from the stables came a lone, melancholy bark.
“My conscience is mostly clear,” Will said, “and I’m happy to have a private conversation with Mr. Tresham, but I’d like your views on another delicate matter if you have a moment.” Only a moment, for this new development made it imperative that Will return to Susannah’s side.
“I can be discreet too, Mr. Dorning. One can’t help but notice that Lady Susannah has caught your eye.”
“When did one notice this?”
“She nearly knocked me from her path last night. Like her mama, Lady Susannah knows what she wants and goes after it—or after him. My brother had occasion to admire Lady Bellefonte’s determination.” And Quimbey didn’t judge a woman for being determined on an objective, even if that objective had been his fickle brother.
“I esteem Lady Susannah above all others,” Will said, “but matters have grown complicated.” Will explained his marital aspirations, his suspicions regarding Effington, and the need to find the dogs. “As soon as my brother Sycamore is awake and sentient, I’ll explain the situation to him, Ash, and Casriel too.”
Sycamore had reported no dogs answering to Caesar’s description at the bear garden as of last evening, which meant the missing dogs might be as close as Effington’s mews.
“Good fellows, your brothers,” Quimbey said, rising. “Though I’m sure the younger one, Sycamore, will give you some bad moments. Puts me in mind of myself as a lad. You’re off to scour London for missing mastiffs, then?”
As soon as Will called on Susannah. “I am, and if you have suggestions, I’m happy to hear them.”
“Suggestions. Here’s what I suggest, Mr. Dorning: find the dogs, the sooner the better. Effington was at the club last night, making bold proclamations about securing the succession and filling his nursery.”
Georgette, in the manner of dogs, unceremoniously deposited the contents of her belly at Will’s feet.
“I’ll also have a very quiet word with Tresham,” Will said. “Excuse Georgette, Your Grace. Her digestion becomes unsettled when she plays too hard.”
Quimbey fastened Comus’s leash to a handsome braided collar. “Georgette has the right of it. A man who cheats at cards and enlists the aid of an innocent dog in his chicanery ought not to have a chance to fill a nursery. Comus agrees with me. Come, Comus. We must pen the duchess a note thanking her for this morning’s hospitality.”
*
“I’m here to pass along something you should know,” Ash Dorning said as he stood beside Della, looking out over a back garden coming to its glory.
To Della, his eyes were his most interesting feature. Their color was intriguing, more purple than blue, between lilac and gentian, like the pansies growing in pots at the top of the terrace steps. Those beautiful eyes held Della’s attention, not for their hue, but for their sincerity.
“I know I like kissing you, Ash Dorning.”
“I more than like kissing you, but that was… I’m not here to kiss you, my lady.”
He at least sounded regretful, though he looked far too handsome in the midday sunshine. Susannah would join them any minute, and that would end even talk of kissing, so Della made her words count.
“I would like to kiss you again, sir, and then some. You’ll think me bold, but kissing you was illuminating.”