Page 13 of To Bed the Bride
That didn’t seem to work. She simply moved out of range of the puppy’s teeth, which might have been successful if he hadn’t grabbed the hem of her skirt and held on. When she took a step, the puppy growled and was dragged with her. She bent, retrieved him, and managed to get his teeth off her skirt.
“You have to stop chewing things,” she said. Except that now he was gnawing on her fingers. His teeth were exceptionally sharp and when she pulled back her hand and said, “No!” he looked surprised.
No doubt he was like the shepherd—unused to being chastised.
“Until we return you to your proper place, I would appreciate it if you would have some kind of manners.”
He barked at her. Not a tiny little yip this time but a full-throated bark. She put him down on the floor, moved to the armoire, and began to change her clothes.
Once dressed for riding, she turned to find the puppy relieving himself in the middle of the two-hundred-year-old chrysanthemum-patterned rug beside the vanity. She screamed, raced to his side, picked him up, and deposited him outside the door before ringing for a maid.
Ann had only been at Hearthmere for two years. She was very young, not more than seventeen Eleanor guessed, with a rangy body and light brown hair frizzing around her face. She was not a pretty girl, but she made up for it with a charming smile she used often. After a while, you didn’t notice Ann’s looks—you only paid attention to her pleasing character.
Eleanor told her what she needed. The girl nodded, retreating to get the requested articles.
The puppy still sat just outside the open door. Instead of escaping to other parts of the house, he looked like he was waiting to return.
“If you think you’re coming back in here, you’re mistaken,” she said. “You belong in the stable. Or the barn. Not in my bedroom.”
He barked at her again.
In a matter of moments, Ann was back with the items Eleanor needed. Plus, she’d found a round basket with a lid suitable for transporting the puppy back to the shepherd.
The sooner done, the sooner over. That’s the way all distasteful tasks should be accomplished.
After she finished cleaning the rug alongside the maid—she felt partly responsible for the mess since she’d brought the puppy to her bedroom—Eleanor went to find the puppy and place him in the basket, only to find him asleep in a tight little ball just inside the doorway. When she picked him up, his head lolled sideways. He slitted open his eyes and gave a sleepy yawn, then licked her fingers. Gently she placed him into the basket and put it over her arm, grabbed her divided skirt with the other hand, and made her way down the stairs.
“I wasn’t here, Miss Eleanor,” the housekeeper said when questioned a few minutes later. “Sally was, however. Would you like to speak with her?”
“I would, thank you.”
She remembered Sally from a few years earlier. The girl had been burned in a kitchen accident. The scar on her arm had been a source of embarrassment for the maid. The intervening years had evidently made a difference, because Sally greeted her with no hesitation, even though the scar was still visible.
“Of course I remember him, Miss Eleanor. A handsome man, he was, and him with the little puppy in his arms. That was a sight to see.”
“Did he say anything to you, Sally?”
“Oh, yes, miss. Very polite he was. He went on about the pleasant day and asked about my family. I told him as how they live in the Bailthorne Village. My brother’s a smith there. Him and my sister’s husband.”
Evidently, the shepherd had elicited more information from Sally than Eleanor had in all these years.
“Did he say anything about the puppy?”
The girl nodded. “That the little one was a gift. Something to get you over your fear, he was.” Sally smiled, no doubt pleased to impart such news. “He said a great many nice things about you, too.”
“Did he?”
“Yes, miss. That you were beautiful and had a voice like a mother’s lullaby.”
“A mother’s lullaby?” She felt herself warm.
“Yes, miss.”
“But all he said about the puppy was that it was a gift?”
The shepherd was the only person with the temerity to do something like this.
“Did he give you no other information, Sally?”
