Page 43 of The Duke's Wicked Widow
He took a step back reflexively, catching them both, and looked up to meet Ellie’s eyes as the little girl wrapped her arms around his waist.
“Thank you, Fawkes! Thank you!”
Absentmindedly, he patted the girl because he couldn’t seem to drag his gaze away from how Ellie was looking at him. Something sparkled in those dark depths, and her grin was so wide he could see the edges around her hand.
She was looking at him…as if he were ahero.
“I was so scared, Fawkes!” Merida declared.
“Me too,” he murmured, still watching Ellie. “But everything’s fine now, eh?”
“Yes!” The little girl released him and squatted beside the pup. “Hello there.”
It wasn’t until she’d left him that he’d realized how much he’d liked the hug, and the thought surprised him enough to drop his gaze to the little girl. “He’s cold, but he’ll survive now. Hopefully he can find his way home.”
“No!” Merida gasped, tugging the pup closer. “No, he’s small and cold and helpless, and his person doesn’t want him, or he wouldn’t have dropped him into the water! And with abrick!”
The lassie had a point.
The crowd was dispersing and Ellie moved closer. “I can see where this is going, and unfortunately I will have to nip it in the bud,” she murmured. Placing a hand on Merida’s shoulder, she urged the girl to stand. “We cannot keep the animal, Merida. I am sorry.”
The little girl’s eyes filled with tears. “Please? Please, Ellie? I promise I’ll take care of him and feed him and clean up after him and he’ll be quiet as a mouse, and the Countess won’t even know he’s there!”
So Merida had no love for Aunt—Nay, they’re no’ yer family.
Ellie was tugging the girl away. “I am sorry, Merida, dearest,” she repeated, wrapping her arm around the girl. “We cannot. Our future is too uncertain to bring the poor thing into our lives. We cannot give it a true home.”
Merida was trying to twist away, so Fawkes stepped up on the girl’s other side, hoping to block her view of the animal. It would be kinder that way. As they walked, he shrugged into his overcoat and draped the wet jacket over his arm, hoping he’d get home before he was soaked through.
“Merida,” he announced, hoping to distract her, “what do ye want for Christmas? Is Father Christmas going to—”
He bit down on the rest of his question when he tripped suddenly. Growling, he glanced down…only to see the puppy standing between his feet, tail wagging, grinning up at him.
“Go on, get on home,” he muttered, stepping over the thing and trying to encourage Merida and Ellie to continue.
The dog followed.
“Goaway.”
Merida suddenly chuckled as she reached up to grab Ellie’s hand. “Never mind, Ellie, I don’t want the puppy anymore. I mean, Iwanthim, but I know I can’t have him.”
“That is very—”
“He belongs to Fawkes now.”
“What?” Fawkes blurted, hurrying to keep up and trying not to trip over the now-frolicking pile of wet fur. “Nay, he doesnae. I dinnae want a dog.”
“Sorry, Fawkes,” Merida declared cheerfully, reaching out to take his hand in her free one. “You definitely have a dog. I read in a book you should feed him bread soaked in milk if he can’t eat real food. Is your house big enough for him? You can keep him in my room if you want but only for a little while, because Ellie is right, he can’t stay with us if he’s your dog.”
Fawkes was shaking his head, trying to ignore the animal trotting along behind. “I dinnae want a dog,” he repeated.
When he glanced up, he caught Ellie’s gaze. She was grinning hugely again, hiding behind her hand. Her midnight eyes flicked to the dog, then back again. “It looks like he wants you.”
And he knew he’d lost.
Chapter 7
The tipof the pencil tapped absentmindedly against the abandoned ciphers on Ellie’s desk as she stared out the window, fingering the latest letter from Demon. She’d written to her sister, and Georgia had dictated a response to her husband.
