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Then, a tiny blur of grey skittered past him, adding to the din.

Dominic recognized the feline. It was Serafina, Marianne’s cat.

“Achilles! Beowulf!” he bellowed.

His dogs instantly trotted to his side. Despite everything, it was fulfilling to see them remain disciplined.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Serafina prancing toward him, her tail in the air.

“Keep that thing away from me,” he commanded.

From a nearby bench, the source of all of his problems rose.

“She likes you,” Marianne noted, infuriatingly unbothered, her arms crossed.

“Why is there a goat running in my garden?”

“You said my family could stay here.”

“I meant your sisters. Not this menagerie of untamed creatures,” he groaned.

“The goat? That’s Perseus. Show him some respect, please,” Marianne said, pointing at the horned creature, which was now munching on a rosebush.

“Perseus?” Dominic scoffed.

Who on earth would name a goat after a mythical hero?

His wife, of course. Who else?

“Oh yes, Your Grace. Perseus is truly affectionate. He’s family. Why shouldn’t he have a name?” Marianne responded, calm as the sea on a warm summer day.

“Oakmere Hall is not a zoo,” Dominic growled.

“He’s domesticated, Your Grace. He can live with us.”

“He’s eating my roses.” Dominic gestured to Perseus, who was intent on finishing off the roses in one bush.

“Ah. Now, you can see that a delicate lady who sits in the drawing room embroidering would have been a more beneficial choice for you,” Marianne drawled, nodding thoughtfully, as if it had never been her plan to make the whole estate implode in the first place.

“I thought I married a lady with common sense.”

“Well, here we are,” she said, while Beowulf bolted after Serafina and Perseus, leaving a trail of destruction behind him.

Dominic glared at her. She glared back, a triumphant smirk gracing her lips.

She was infuriating, yes. But this meant that his wife’s more playful side would come out.

And he very much wanted to see it.

“Fine. You can keep your ‘family’ here,” Dominic relented begrudgingly. “However, if I find that goat in my house, or if he destroys any more of my property, he’ll be our next dinner. Understood?”

“He won’t do that,” Marianne affirmed, giving him a sweet smile. “He is quite disciplined.”

“Keep your horde away from my furniture,” he added, before walking away from the chaos, his temples throbbing.

Achilles and Beowulf followed him, their ears low.

If she thought that would discourage him, she was dearly mistaken.