Andrew nodded, his jaw set. He turned to Isobel, and she saw the walls coming back up, the careful distance returning.
"I should handle this alone," he said.
"No." Isobel straightened her shoulders. "I'm your wife. Whatever this is, we face it together."
"Isobel, go rest."
"Together," she repeated firmly. "Or not at all."
For a moment, she thought he would argue. Then something shifted in his expression—surprise, perhaps, or gratitude—and he nodded.
"Together then," he said quietly, taking her hand.
They walked toward the drawing room and whatever waited there. Isobel couldn’t help but believe they were becoming partners. Truly becoming partners. She only hoped they were strong enough to weather whatever storm was coming.
Twenty-Three
"No, Chance. Sit."
The puppy tilted his head, tail wagging, and promptly rolled onto his back with his legs in the air.
"That's not sitting," Andrew said, fighting back a smile. "That's the exact opposite of sitting."
Isobel laughed from her position on the garden bench, her embroidery forgotten in her lap. "Perhaps he's interpreting the command creatively."
"He's being deliberately obstinate." Andrew crouched down, scratching Chance's exposed belly. "Aren't you, boy? You know exactly what I'm asking, you're just choosing to ignore it."
"Rather like his owner," Isobel murmured.
"I heard that."
"You were meant to."
Andrew straightened, crossing his arms and fixing her with a mock-stern look. "Are you implying I'm obstinate, Duchess?"
"I'm not implying anything. I'm stating it as observable fact." She set her embroidery aside and stood, brushing imaginary wrinkles from her morning dress. "Now, let me show you how it's done."
She walked over to where Chance had righted himself and was now attempting to dig a hole in the manicured lawn. "Chance. Come here, darling."
The puppy immediately bounded over to her, sitting perfectly at her feet and looking up with adoring eyes.
"Show off," Andrew muttered.
"It's not showing off if it's simply superior technique." Isobel produced a small piece of chicken from her pocket. She couldn’t help but smile and rewarded Chance with both the treat and enthusiastic praise. "Good boy! Such a clever, wonderful boy!"
"You're bribing him."
"I prefer to think of it as positive reinforcement." She glanced at her husband, eyes dancing with amusement. "Perhaps you should try it. Being kind rather than demanding."
"I am kind." But even as he said it, he knew she was right. He'd been approaching the dog's training the same way he approached everything else, with the expectation of immediate obedience and perfect results.
Old habits.
"Watch," Isobel called Chance back to her and demonstrated the sitting command again, this time with patient repetition and more chicken. Within minutes, the puppy was sitting on command with reasonable consistency.
"You make it look easy," Andrew said, grudging admiration in his voice.
"That's because I'm not treating him like a recalcitrant member of Parliament who needs to be browbeaten into compliance." She held out a piece of chicken to Andrew. "Here. You try."
