Page 49 of A Cinderella to Redeem the Earl
‘It is a fair trade.’
The study door swung open.
The dog, tongue lolling, trotted in.
‘Oh.’ She looked at Damian. ‘You didn’t find his owner?’
Damian winced. ‘According to the innkeeper, he is a stray who showed up in the neighbourhood about a month ago. One of the locals in the taproom offered to shoot him. They say he’s been stealing chickens.’
‘And yet he brought the duck to you.’
‘I know. Very odd. Anyway, it seems he’s mine and he promised he would behave himself from now on since he is no longer starving.’
‘It is kind of you to give him a home.’
He made a gesture of dismissal. ‘It is stupid of me. I find myself needing to walk him in the morning in town, because he won’t let any of the footmen put a leash on him.’
She stifled a laugh. ‘Oh, dear.’
‘I thought I would leave him here with you, when I go up to London.’
She looked doubtfully at the dog gazing adoringly at his new master. ‘I suppose you could try. Have you given him a name?’
‘The Dog.’
‘Very original,’ she said drily. ‘I will see you at dinner. I am off to hire my kitchen maid.’
Damian watched Pamela leave his study with a vague feeling of sympathy.
The mouse had taken the cheese, now all that was required was for the trap to shut. It was too bad he liked her, when he had expected to despise her. Of his two victims, she was the one with the gumption.
He still hadn’t got to the bottom of exactly why she was hiring herself out as a cook. No doubt it was some kind of rebellion against her family, which was exactly the sort of thing a spoiled brat would do. Also likely the reason she didn’t want to advertise her role in their partnership.
Damian was in no hurry. Things like this needed to be accomplished with finesse and he still had one more mouse to catch. The young man was proving elusive.
But now that he had Pamela safely enmeshed, he could focus his efforts on the last of his enemies’ children.
The dog thumped its tail on the carpet.
‘No. I am not going to take you out,’ he said. ‘I have work to do.’ He huffed out a breath. ‘I suppose you do need some sort of name. How about Odysseus? I have a feeling you are a bit of a Trojan horse, old fellow.’
The dog whined.
‘Yes, it is a bit of a mouthful. Oddy for short.’
The dog wandered over to the mat beside the hearth, curled up in a ball and closed its eyes.
‘Oddy it is.’
Damian tucked the contract in his desk and opened his ledger. If he was going to pass the bookkeeping to Pamela, he ought to make sure it was current first. He sorted the bills into date order and began the tedious task of entering the amounts.
He only noticed the passage of time when he realised it was getting difficult to see properly as the light outside faded fast. He removed his spectacles and stretched.
Time to call it a day. ‘Come, Oddy, we will go and check on my horse.’ He had driven himself down in his curricle earlier in the day.
Oddy sprang up, keen and eager, his nose scenting the air.
Damian collected his coat and boots from the mud room. The scent of something delicious cooking permeated the air. Oddy headed in the direction of the smell.
