Serena nearly squealed because she knew what it meant.
“You brought me a dog,” she said, her voice betraying her excitement. “So permanent! A dog ties a man down.”
“Indeed,” Malcolm agreed. “It means a man must stay put.”
They grinned at each other, each recalling their conversation that seemed to have taken place ages ago in a carriage ride across Paris.
“It has peed all over the Persian rug,” her father declared.
“It’s adorable,” her mother said, scooping the pup into her arms. “Besides, it’s just a baby. Serena shall train him. So good to meet you at last, Lord Branley.”
“And you as well, Lady Elmstead. I can see where your daughter gets her beauty.”
“You did not just say that,” Serena’s father fumed, crossing his arms.
“Why, yes, Lord Elmstead,” Malcolm said, sounding perfectly respectful. “It’s an honor to meet you, sir. And why wouldn’t I say that? It is patently true.”
“Because he said the very same tomyparents,” Serena’s mother said, before giving a girlish giggle. The dog in her arms barked again. “You are off to a good start, sir.”
After Malcolm greeted her grandparents, Serena watched him tug on his cravat, suddenly appearing serious.
“May I have a word alone with your daughter?” he asked. “And then a private meeting with you, Lord Elmstead?”
Feeling a bubble of happiness, Serena shook her head. “It’s not necessary for us to meet privately. My answer is yes. Absolutely.”
Malcolm frowned. “You are supposed to let me ask.”
“The point of asking is to know my thoughts ahead of asking my father. Now, you know my thoughts and can go straight to the business end of it.”
Serena stroked the dog’s head where it wriggled in her mother’s arms. He was a beautiful pup, with floppy ears, the softest fuzzy baby fur that promised to become silken, and an adorable tail that curled slightly. And all over he was white and brown and even black. His best feature, she decided, when she held his muzzle still so she could really look at his face, were his dark brown eyes with the blackest outline around each, like a Parisian courtesan!
“Let’s leave the gentlemen to it, shall we?” Hélène said.
“And Pépère must stay, too, of course,” Serena added.
With that, she took her dog from her mother before sending Malcolm another glance.He’s here! He’s here!she sang silently. Then she followed her mother and Mémère, letting the butler close the door upon the three men. If her brothers hadn’t already returned to their respective schools, she had no doubt they would be in the drawing room, too.
“I must go change my slippers,” she said, despite feeling as if she could float up the stairs on wings of joy.
The other women trailed behind.
“Regarding Lord Branley,” her mother said, “I think you have a little tale to tell us, yes?”
***
AS IT TURNED OUT THEmen got along very well, having spent as much time discussing Wellington’s victory as Serena’s nuptial agreement.
“All of a kind,” her mother declared Lord Branley, her father, and her husband after dinner. Leaving the men to smoke cigars, the ladies retired to the drawing room for aged ratafia of the finest brandy. Naturally, the pup, who alternated between bursts of running around and long periods of exhausted sleep, went with them.
Since they’d already had a decadently rich flummery with almonds and raspberries at the table, they now settled for a plate of butter biscuits, which Serena found very compatible when dipped in her ratafia.
“Stop that,” her mother ordered. “What manners!”
“Try it,” Serena said. “Both of you.”
The sugary baked treats melted on her tongue with a burst of the cherry-infused brandy. The other ladies rolled their eyes but tried it, soon declaring the combination delicious.
Everything was going smoothly at last. Serena’s marriage contract had been worked out in a very short time, with a generous dowry bestowed upon her. It would be doled out as an allowance, since Malcolm said he didn’t need it for their household.
