“Walter?”
“It’s dignified.” She sniffed.
“He should be called Brutus or Zeus.”
“Leave, my lord, or I shall let him have you.” She smiled as if the prospect pleased her. “He’s hungry, and you’d make a nice meal for him.”
“That was a bloody foolish thing to do. You could have been seriously harmed from that fall.”
“I don’t understand why you care!” The dog growled low and menacingly as her voice rose. “Why are you here? We disliked each other, and I was only ever an annoyance to you.”
He didn’t refute her claims. Gabe had never really been able to put into words how he felt about this woman.
How many men had she had in this room?
“My sister was worried when you failed to make contact with her and sent me to find you. I can hardly reassure her that you are indeed well when in fact you are living in this pit of despair, spending your evenings dressed like a trollop and being ogled by shady characters!”
“Just because I look like one does not mean I am,” she snapped back.
He was not touching that statement.
The room was smaller than his bedroom and smelled damp. He saw dark patches on the walls, and the fire was pitiful. No one, and not especially the spirited woman before him, should live this way.
“Many live this way. I am no better or worse off than them,” she added.
She had a point, which he would only concede silently.
The light was weak, but he saw the fatigue in every line of her face. What had happened to Dimity Brown?
“Why are you living here? Did your father leave nothing for you? Surely your brother did not get everything?”
Her laugh held no humor.
“That tells me nothing, so speak please, madam.”
“No.” The dog continued to stand there watching him, ready to eat Gabe if he moved closer to Dimity.
“Walter.” He held out a hand, but the dog never moved. Digging in his pocket, he found a peppermint and held it out, hoping he’d have his fingers left if the dog decided to take it.
The hound crept forward slowly, neck stretched, then much to Gabe’s surprise took the mint gently from his hand. He left his fingers there for the dog to sniff. Walter wagged his tail and let Gabe scratch his head.
“Oh, you bloody turncoat!” Dimity was not impressed.
“We are leaving.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you. I will write to Abby tomorrow and assure her I am well. Now, leave. I have things to do.”
“I’ve heard about those things, and you are not doing them again,” Gabe snarled.
“What?” Her nose wrinkled.
“Pack your things, we are leaving,” Gabe said.
“Go away, Lord Raine. As you can see, I am well, so tell Abby that.” She sat back on the bed, still clutching the book.
“But that would be a lie, wouldn’t it.”
“I am well! Unemployed as we speak, thanks to your pompous self, but well. We don’t all reside in a bloody palace with servants at our beck and call!”
