“I rather do. But if you insist upon making such faces while eating off of my plate, I’m not going to be able to uphold my promise to you.”
The promise that he wouldn’t kiss her.
Aubrey smiled to herself and deliberately took another bite from his plate. When she bit into it, she closed her eyes and let out a tiny sigh. When she opened her eyes there was no laughter in those blue eyes of his. And then he growled.
This time, it was Aubrey who laughed.
* * *
Mr. Daniels appeared quite refreshedand alert, having gone so far as to draw the carriage around to the front of the inn so that Aubrey wouldn’t have to traipse through the yard which consisted of more mud and other questionable substances than dirt.
When Mr. Bateman climbed in behind her, she hadn’t considered that his proximity would feel any different than it had while sitting beside him outside. Seated on the backward facing bench, his booted feet resting on the upholstery beside her, his presence filled the small interior. So much so that she very nearly didn’t notice the dog––she assumed it to be a dog–– lying on the floor behind her valise.
“Is he dead?” But no, the animal was snoring softly.
Both eyes were open, however, and his tongue was hanging out the side of his mouth. Aubrey had never seen anything quite like the pathetic looking creature.
“Not dead.” Mr. Bateman kneeled onto the floor between them. “It’s asleep.”
“It’s a he.” Aubrey reminded him. There was no mistaking this particular animal’s gender. He lay on his back, short legs relaxed and wide revealing… everything, front legs pointing up, chin back.
He was most definitely alive.
“What’s the matter with him?” Leaning forward, Aubrey ignored all the warm tingly feelings evoked by Mr. Bateman’s nearness.
The dog stretched just then, and his eyes took on enough life to eye both of them suspiciously. “We need to return him to the inn, his owner will be worried.”
“I don’t know about that,Princesse.”
The short haired dog was covered in a fair amount of mud and appeared not to have been fed properly. “Do you think someone is missing him?”
Mr. Bateman opened the window to the driver’s seat. “Daniels? Do you know anything about this dog in here?”
“Blasted mongrel!” Mr. Daniel pulled the carriage to a halt. “Just put him down here. He’s a stray, been hanging around the stables all night begging for food.”
“Oh, no! We cannot just put him down all alone! He obviously isn’t capable of finding his own food. The poor thing.” Aubrey reached down and a wet nose nuzzled her hand.
“Damnedest looking stray I’ve ever seen.” Mr. Bateman lifted the animal onto his lap to inspect him. Long body, short legs, long snout and floppy ears.
“He’s adorable. I’ve heard that some ladies in London keep little dogs for company. It’s very fashionable, you know. Perhaps I can clean up this poor creature, and fatten him up a bit, and he can be my fashionable pet.” Yes, a bath would be in order. Aubrey scrunched up her nose. A very thorough one.
“I don’t know…” Mr. Bateman seemed hesitant, although the dog was now balancing himself on his hindquarters performing something of a trick.
“Oh, look at him! He’s perfect. I always wanted a pet— But he’ll need a name.” Milton and Winifred would have conniptions if they knew a dog had ridden inside the carriage. “I’ve never named anyone before.”
Mr. Bateman met her gaze, his lovely eyes dancing with amusement. “I’m sure you’ll come up with something respectable enough. I suppose with rather large quantities of soap and some training, he could possibly make a good impression on theton. He does have rather impressive balance.” Even Mr. Bateman couldn’t be cynical about the dog with him licking the bottom of his chin.
“He likes you.” Aubrey smiled.
“He smells.” Mr. Bateman lowered the dog back to the floor.
“What do you want to do with him?” Mr. Daniels face appeared upside down in the small opening.
“Mrs. Bloomington is going to keep him.” Mr. Bateman answered, his gaze laughing as it settled on hers. “For now, anyway.”
Aubrey had half expected that he would insist upon putting the dog outside. She wasn’t accustomed to the people around her being so agreeable. This too, might be something she was going to have to get used to. Unfamiliar pleasure settled in her.
Even upside down, however, she could tell that Mr. Daniels was scowling. “If you say so. Let me know if he starts sniffing around on the floor. Mr. Bloomington will be none too happy if I return the carriage smelling like piss—“
