“It's not the cold,” Louisa said, allowing him to shepherd her inside, “it's the dog.” She thrust the puppy back into his arms again. “I shall be quite all right if
Halfway down the corridor, Charles halted and gaped at her. “The dog?'
“Yes, Charles,” Louisa said lightly. “I do not know what it is, for I love animals. But every time I come too close to a dog or a cat I begin to sneeze.'
On this surprising note, in which he detected no irony, Louisa hurried him into the private parlour and excused herself on the grounds that she must go up to her room to repair the damage the dog had done.
Stunned by this revelation, and by Louisa's obstinacy in rescuing the dog in spite of her affliction, Charles fell into a chair by the fire. Sammy Spadger came into the room to heap the grate with coals, for it was plain to see that both its occupants would need a thorough drying out.
Emerging from his reverie, Charles instructed him to have the bags he had brought from Lord Conisbrough's house taken up to Louisa.
“Then yor lordship's servants wor there as tha said?'
“ Huh? What? Oh, yes!'
Since this latest episode, Charles had forgotten the story they had told the Spadgers. But Sammy sounded so relieved that his faith in the marquess and his cousin had not been misplaced that Charles turned to the matter once more. “My cousin's bags had been delivered,” he said. “She might prefer to change before coming down to dinner.'
“Mrs. Spadger'll see to it reet away, sir. Would tha like me ta take t’ dog?'
Charles glanced down at the puppy in his lap.
It had fallen asleep along the open palm of his hand, as if the past half hour's struggle had been far too much for its young body. It lay in an attitude of complete abandon, sprawled on its back as only a young animal can lie, its front paws flopped over his thumb, its hind paws splayed outwards exposing its pink underbelly. Charles noticed the creature was a female, though he might have suspected so by the length of its eyelashes-some sort of black-and- white spaniel with remarkably long lashes.
Something stirred inside him, and he did not answer until Sammy repeated his question.
“Sir?'
“You may leave her here,” Charles said. He cleared his throat and said in a firmer voice, “I shall have to see what my cousin intends to do with it. The dog is hers, after all.'
“Aye, yor lordship. And reetly so, t’ way she stood up ta that bully. If tha'll excuse me, I will say this. T’ lass has got a good heart, that she has.'
Sammy bowed himself out of the room, leaving Charles to reflect on how Louisa had managed to charm the last suspicions from the Spadgers’ minds.
He was determined, however, to show no more weakness, so he resisted the impulse to gaze at the dog. Of all things for Louisa to saddle him with, he fumed in order to rally himself. He had dogs, of course. Every gentleman had hunting dogs, but they were of his own choosing, carefully bred for the purpose. Charles had no need for a dog who could not pull its own weight.
And this one, draped over his wrist like a lady's shawl, would undoubtedly prove to be a mixture of breeds, completely untrainable-as flighty, in fact, as Louisa herself.
By the time Louisa arrived back downstairs, Charles had worked himself into a state of mild resentment, tempered by the cramp the puppy's weight had started in his wrist. He did not shift it, however. Looked at logically, his discomfort was due not to the puppy at all, but to Louisa, who had caused it to be there in the first place. No reason to take his temper out on a helpless creature when one so capable stood readily by.
He looked up at her entry, planning to start the scold he had prepared for her, but he was stopped by the sight of her new dress. A low-cut gown of yellow silk, as bright as a canary, enhanced her figure. It rustled in a pleasant way as Louisa moved forward and crooned, “Oh, isn't it precious, sleeping there? Charles, I had no idea you were so good with dogs! This one might have known you all its life.'
“It's a she,” Charles found himself saying. He had never cared for the colour yellow, but somehow on Louisa it looked quite well. Because of her red hair, he presumed, noting that Ned certainly knew his business.
“Oh, it's a girl,” Louisa whispered reverently, bending over his lap to pet the dog lightly. She might have been talking about a human baby.
Her breasts hovered within inches of his face, causing a lump to rise in his throat. Charles felt something stirring in his lap. He looked down to see if the dog were waking, but realized with dismay that it was not the dog that had stirred.
He cleared his throat and tried to recall his annoyance.
“Louisa-” He sat up suddenly and placed the dog on the floor near the hearth. “What precisely do you mean to do with a creature you cannot even hold?'
The puppy sat up and yawned, then looked about for something softer to sleep on. It spied Charles's legs, crossed at the ankle, and curled up beside them to rest its chin on the toe of his boot.
Louisa looked down at it fondly. “Why, Charles, since you are so good with her, I see I shall have to give her to you.'
“But I don't need a dog! Besides, you have never explained to me why you did such a rash thing!'
Louisa looked up at him, surprised. “Oh, but there was nothing rash about it, Charles! I have sworn to myself that I shall not let such crimes go unnoticed! It was a major revelation to me-and a sad one-that anyone could mistreat an animal. As soon as I heard the poor dog's cries, there was only one right thing to do, as I am sure you will agree!'
“Yes, but-'’ Charles could not bring himself now to say she was
“But I had no choice, as you saw! Why, even Mr. Spadger, as kind a man as he is-and I do think he is kind-even he was inclined to let the man have the dog! And he certainly would not have rescued it. That became most immediately and painfully clear.'
Louisa gazed at him earnestly. “It is the most curious thing, Charles, that many good people will not bestir themselves for the benefit of others. And yet now, as I was descending the stairs, Mr. Spadger could not have been more cordial. I think both he and his wife were quite happy things turned out as they did. Mrs. Spadger said as much to me.'
She changed the subject suddenly. “0h, by the way, I did not get a chance to thank you for fetching these clothes. They are all delightful, and in the latest fashion. I am very grateful to Lord Conisbrough and his sister. Do you think I should write her a note of thanks?'
Louisa looked at him quite innocently, but Charles hastened to say, “No, that would not be a good idea. Let Ned thank his sister for us.'
“As you wish, Charles.'
Louisa seemed perfectly willing to be ruled by him on this, but the other matter was one of conscience, and she would not be swayed. Sammy and his son brought in their dinner, and Charles waited for them to leave before mentioning the dog again. Jim had a tendency to linger, the better to gape at Louisa, Charles divined. Though respectful, the lad seemed besotted with her, and it was with the utmost reluctance that he finally left the parlour, half dragged by his bemused father.
Charles and Louisa moved to the table, but first Charles was obliged to slip his boot gently out from under the puppy's chin. It moaned when he did so, but agreed to stay put once he had draped his handkerchief over it.
Over dinner, the conversation became quite heated when Louisa suggested Charles ought to have had the man arrested.
“But on what grounds?'
She waved a fork vaguely in the air. “Why, how should I know, Charles? But there must be something. And you, being in the government, must have a much better notion of the laws than I.'
She ended with her fork pointed directly at his chest, a gesture which could only make Charles feel defensive.
