Page 32 of My Cruel Duke

Chapter16

Later that day, after Angleton had returned from his stroll with Lydia, Rhysand subjected himself to doing some dirty work, which entailed visiting his stables to check on the various beasts he kept.

Rhysand had a fine collection of a dozen horses, excluding Lord, half a dozen rabbits, and four hounds. There were more, but those were the beasts he had any form of connection to. Lord and the hounds especially. Rhysand did not tend to the hounds frequently, since his staff took proper care of them, but he liked to take them for a run around the estate sometimes to rekindle the familiarity between them.

“Let us see who the fastest runner is,” Rhysand muttered and threw a ball. Two of the hounds took off the second Rhysand tossed the ball to the other side of the garden. The other two rolled in the grass, itching for a rub from their master. They were the oldest dogs he had, and as such, their strength had withered with time. Rhysand crouched down and rubbed the hounds, feeling a little bit of his youth as he tended to them.

Is this what being a father feels like?He wondered. Was that what his uncle Harold meant when he said training his heir would take his mind off things? Perhaps it was a stretch. An heir could not be compared with tending to dogs. It was a different ordeal entirely; one he wondered if he would be able to carry out… alone.

“Help!” A loud screech diverted his attention from the dogs that laid on their backs for him. He took off in the direction of the voice immediately, wondering who it was, or what had happened to make someone scream so loudly.

The voice had emerged from the garden, which was the same direction he had thrown the ball. Perhaps the hounds had caused real damage? Rhysand had thought it was one of the staff who got caught in misfortune, but on getting there, he was startled to find his wife there in a dress that had seen better days, covered with an old apron, with liquid colors splashed across the front of the dress, her hands, and face.

Rhysand’s brows furrowed into a hard knot, taking in the scene before him. There was an easel, and a canvas in front of Penelope, with a tumbled bucket beside her legs, along with the hounds that had left seconds ago to retrieve his ball, growling at her. She stayed unmoving, but the moment he appeared, relief flooded her features.

“What in Christ’s name are these?” She asked but her voice was quickly drowned by the barking of both dogs.

“Pardon me, I–” He looked away from her and then back at her as though considering the words he should say to her. Instead of talking, he approached her and took the dogs by their collars, quietening them.

“Why are there wolves in the garden?” Penelope placed her hand over her heart, staring at the beasts with wide eyes, a secret smile playing on her lips.

“They are not wolves but dogs.” Rhysand saw the disbelief pass through Penelope’s face as her eyes darted from the beasts to his face. A tiny smile threatened the corners of his lips. It seemed she would have preferred for the beasts to be wolves and not dogs. That was why he got them. Rhysand was fascinated at the size they could grow up to, the hounds looked more like lions than dogs.

“Surely you jest. How can these be…” she trailed off, looking down at herself. She had just taken note of the damages his hounds had caused. “Oh no!” She cried out. Not only were her dress and apron ruined with multiple colored paint, but the unfinished painting she had been working on was ruined.

She had been working on the piece for a few days now. It was a painting of a boy with a large mansion behind him, with a gloomy ambiance. It was a painting that depicted her husband, and she planned to use it to tell a hopeful story. The painting was supposed to go to the hallway, since there were hooks that showed paintings used to hang there before, but were obviously taken out.

“I should apologize on behalf of my hounds; they mean no harm.”

“I supposed all they wanted was to play but even if I were to accept an apology from you, it would not be in the presence of the hounds.” She was angry. Rhysand thought her dimples only showed up when she smiled, but they also did when she pouted her lips and drew her brows together like that. A strong sense of protection crashed into his body in waves.

“Do you not think it is best to familiarize yourself with them? They should get to know you.”

“I am not sure. I mean… I like dogs but I have never seen such huge ones before in my life. They are intimidating,” Penelope voiced cautiously.

“They might have the potential to be violent, but I assure you all they need is a warm touch to perceive you are not a threat, and won’t cause any harm to them.”

Penelope considered his words for a beat. “I am afraid it will be difficult for me to convince myself to touch them. Should I approach them?”

Rhysand released the dogs. As though they had the slightest sense of what was happening, they sat and watched the couple.

“They need to take note of your scent, to recognize you.” He approached her slowly and took her colored hand.

“Are you sure they will not bite my fingers off if I do much as tried to touch them?”

“I am here, am I not? I will protect you.” The words were uttered concerning the dogs, but Rhysand found he sincerely meant it in every aspect. The talk with Angleton earlier about Patrick Hislop had caused it.

Penelope looked into his eyes and must have seen the sincerity in them because she let Rhysand pull her toward the hounds, who at first were unwelcoming, but a soft pat from their master quelled their restlessness, and then she touched them. The heat that rolled out of them, the softness of their fur, their trusting eyes, all of it fascinated her.

“I had no idea you paint.”

“There is a lot you do not know about me, Rhysand.” It was not an invitation to argue, but a plain fact. She knew nothing of him, and he knew nothing of her. They were bound by a deal that left no room for getting to know each other. “I am also surprised you have pastimes outside estate affairs.”

He could not fight the smile that appeared on his face at her words.

“I will have you know I have many interests aside from estate affairs,” he told her.

“Do you really? It is hard to tell.”

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