Mrs. Merrick’s mouth opened, and she drew in an audible breath.
Was Flash an offensive name? Anne wasn’t quite sure, but everyone’s attention trained on Mrs. Merrick and waited for her answer.
She wiped at her eyes a little, then said, “It’s perfect. Your father would love it. I love it. What do you think, Mr. Ford? Would Lord Gyles have approved?”
The tall, previously unfamiliar man nodded. “He would indeed. Gyles was most fond of Henry’s dog. I wasn’t sure how His Grace would feel, but little Flash comes from the same line as his namesake. In fact, he may be a direct descendant. And please, Mrs. Merrick, call me Reggie. Gyles admired you greatly, and through him, I felt as if I, too, know you. I feel like we’re old friends.”
Burwood untangled the squirming puppy from Anne’s skirts and lifted him into his arms. “Then it’s settled. Welcome to our family, Flash. Now, Reggie, you must be exhausted from your trip from London. Why don’t we all go inside and have some refreshments?”
As Anne trailed the rest of the group inside the house, pleas rose from Cassie and Ellie. “Please, Papa, can we have a puppy? Mr. Ford says there are four more in the litter.”
From the stern look on Lord Grump’s face, the answer would be“No.”
A puppy.Colin sighed and tried to avoid the pleading look on his daughters’ faces. He liked dogs. He had two hounds of his own, Bull and Titan. But the breed of spaniel now belonging to Burwood was the type for petting and lap sitting, with floppy ears and huge eyes that threatened to break your heart.
And Colin’s heart had been damaged enough, thank you very much.
“Papa?”
He jerked his gaze away from Ellie’s dark eyes. “Have you forgotten? We have dogs.”
Cassie tugged on his coat sleeve. “Those areyourdogs, Papa. They only like to hunt. They don’t like to play or be petted.”
“Nonsense. They love to chase things and be rewarded with a firm pat on the head when they’ve retrieved them.”
Ellie appeared ready to burst into tears, and Cassie’s dejected expression pushed him over the edge.
“I shall consider it.”
With a whoop of joy, the girls raced off to join the other children, and Colin called after them, “I said,consider. I haven’t agreed to anything.”
Mr. Grey’s rumble of laughter echoed behind him. “Too late, Manning. If I’ve learned anything, once you tell a woman you’ll consider it, you’ve committed yourself.”
Colin’s smile disappeared as he turned and found the nymph grinning at him. “No doubt you agree with Mr. Grey, Miss Weatherby. It’s probably how you almost ensnared my brother-in-law when he exhibited the tiniest bit of compassion toward you.”
As he’d hoped, her grin vanished immediately. However, in its place, Miss Weatherby’s—at the moment he couldn’t think of her as nymph, elfin, faerie, or anything other than an injured woman—lips trembled, and wetness rimmed her eyes.
Cad.The internal voice hit him like a gut punch.
Even Grey’s eyes narrowed. “That was uncalled for, Manning.”
It was. He couldn’t deny it. “I apologize, Miss Weatherby. I fear the day has taken a toll on my manners. Please forgive me.” He gave a curt bow and rushed away, more than eager to remove himself from his faux pas and Miss Weatherby’s impending tears.
Coward.
As he slinked away up to his room, Miss Weatherby’s horrified expression condemned him, his paltry apology falling flat. He would have to make amends somehow. But not at that moment; he’d only make a muck of it and dig himself an even deeper hole.
Why did the woman affect him so? He wasn’t a total idiot around women. In his prime, he’d been much sought after and had an easy way with the ladies.
But Miss Weatherby was an entirely different matter. She had a way of burrowing under his skin and bringing out the worst in him. He’d barely contained himself earlier. Having heron his lap even for that short time had driven him to distraction. He needed distance. From her. From the feelings she generated. From the danger of cracking through the emotionless shell he’d built out of self-preservation.
Hours later, after shutting himself away in his room, he ventured back downstairs, hoping to find some amiable male company. Women were exhausting.
Larger than Colin’s own estate, Blackthorne Manor, Hartridge House’s multitude of rooms offered an abundance of opportunities to sneak away for a bit of solitude, a quiet nook for reading, or, if one chose, agreeable company for a game of cards, billiards, or friendly conversation.
Each room he encountered was vacant.
Where was everyone? The question took him aback. When had he last sought out company?
