He nodded.
“It all seems a bit odd that we can have him just like that, but if you are sure he is looking for a home, then we could take him,” she said, and he could tell she was still stunned by the entire proceedings.
“Well, he seems gentle, and clearly Henry and Oscar have taken to each other,” Dimity added.
“Plus, we can all go for walks together!” Ella cried. “Walter and Oscar will be firm friends.”
Henry looked at his mother, knowing the final say was hers.
“Very well. We will take him for a trial period,” Iris said.
He didn’t yell his excitement. The boy simply bent and wrapped the dog in a gentle hug. Oscar placed his chin on Henry’s shoulder, quivering.
“I think the trial period is over,” Gabe said.
“Is that dog smiling?” Dimity asked.
The corners of Oscar’s mouth were definitely tilting, Monty thought. He looked away and straight into the tearful gaze of Henry’s mother.
And this was why he did not make friends and collect people, he reminded himself again. They brought emotion with them.
“Well, now that that’s all worked out to everyone’s delight. Shall we attend the Duchess of Awkward’s birthday festivities?” Gabe asked.
He shouldn’t walk in with these people. In fact, none of what just happened should have happened in his presence. If society saw him behaving as a normal member and not the snooty, effeminate fool, questions would arise, which they already were after his saving that boy, and then the Blakes seeing him looking different. It was time to get back into character.
“If you’ll excuse me, I have people who are awaiting my arrival.” Monty managed a forced smile and then bowed.
“What do we do with the dogs?” He heard Iris ask as he walked away.
“They can come. The duchess loves dogs,” Ella said with all the confidence of a child.
“But he must be on a leash, surely?” Iris said.
“No need. They can simply run about the place, and Walter will look after Oscar,” Ella added.
“He’s a dog,” Henry said.
“Yes, but Walter is a very special, intelligent dog,” Dimity added.
Increasing his pace, Monty left the Devilles and Challoners behind. He walked to where two footmen stood on either side of a path that likely led to the festivities. One held a silver tray with a variety of colored fans spread over it. Taking a lavender one—but of course—he walked on.
“Good lord,” Monty whispered when he saw what they had set up for the duchess’s birthday party.
Several men and women were walking about on barrels dressed in various costumes. Ship’s captains, milkmaids, a cat, complete with whiskers and a tail. There were also jugglers throwing fire and skittles into the air. Two large, long red-and-white tents were serving refreshments.
“Those fans are for the women, Plunge. However, I’m sure they’ll make an exception in your case.”
Ignoring the voice behind him, Monty unfurled his fan with flair while sweeping his hand in an arc. He struck Lord Laidlaw in the cheek hard enough to have him stumble back, gasping.
“Oh, no!” Monty rushed to console the man. “My apologies, my lord. Let me get you one of my handkerchiefs to revive you.”
Monty pulled one out of his pocket and pressed it to the man’s face. Laidlaw pushed him aside.
“You bumbling, effeminate fool!” he thundered. “How dare you strike me!”
His face was now red with rage, plus the mark Monty had inflicted on him. He closed the distance between them until they were inches apart.
If only you knew how much I could hurt you.
