“It’s raining lost chits today?” Gideon asked, rising. For a moment, Fillmore appeared close to amusement. It didn’t last.
A smile winked to life as Gideon walked. The other Miss Selwyn must be the appealing miss who visited tenants and didn’t simper or back down. Perhaps she’d come to shake sense into her cousin.
This Miss Selwyn, who had been left standing at the grand front entrance, was dry, warmly clothed, and appropriately dressed. She inclined her head when he approached. “I understand my cousin is in difficulty. I’ve come to fetch her home,” she said.
Thank goodness.Her direct manner and calm common sense drew Gideon as the filmy evening dress clinging wet and indecently to her cousin’s form had not. His day improved at the sight of her. As he was distracted by her face and form, his wits went begging. “Viscount Selwyn sent you promptly,” he said by way of greeting. It came out more harshly than he intended.
“Are you surprised? Or did you think he sent her here? I assure you he did not,” Miss Selwyn said, glowering.
What is it about this woman?He’d been caught wrong-footed again. “I didn’t mean to imply any such thing. She said she pursued an animal—your dog, if I remember the animal correctly. Does he run off often? I had the impression you had him well trained.”
“Hector never runs off,” she said, raising an indignant chin. “And my cousin stays as far from him as she can.”
“So the great hairy beast of unusual heritage corralled in our stables is not yours?” he asked.
The lady raised her hand to just above her waist. “This tall? Brown—a chocolaty color? One ear with a notch in it?”
Chocolaty?Gideon would have said muddy. He nodded solemnly.
Miss Selwyn pinched her lips together and sighed. “That’s Hector. Someone must have encouraged his misbehavior.”
He’d known it was her four-legged shadow but couldn’t resist tweaking her. Gideon could guess who misbehaved, and it wasn’t the dog.
Miss Selwyn’s irritated expression didn’t surprise him, but her words did. “Uncle Ludlow wishes to chase him off. He usually ignores him, however, believing he’ll wander off on his own. He won’t. He’s mine. I’ll take him home. If you would alert my cousin, we can be on our way quickly.”
Escorting her to the cousin would be the proper action. It sounded simple enough, or it would have if Gideon didn’t prefer to avoid unnecessary trips up the stairs. He sent the footman stationed in the entrance scurrying instead.
Waiting for the cousin or for word from Mrs. Morrit took more time than was comfortable. He was about to escort her to a parlor and ring for tea, but she spoke first.
“I should go fetch Hector and wait outside for Selina,” Miss Selwyn said as the silent wait grew awkward.
“Didn’t I say? I asked that he be brought round to you. He is a massive great beast, your guardian angel.”
At that description, Miss Selwyn’s habitually solemn face blossomed in a smile that could make angelic choirs sing. “He is that!”
She ran to the window, watching earnestly until a figure came into view with the mountain of canine energy on a lead. Gideon came up beside her. It was Pritchard, of course. He, at least, obeyed Gideon without question. The dog, Hector, must have caught a glimpse of her in the window because he bounded up the steps to the door, barking.
“He follows you everywhere. Does your uncle permit him in the house?”
“No.” The smile disappeared.
“I think it best if we don’t, either,” he murmured.
“Uncle mostly tries to pretend Hector doesn’t exist. I try to keep him from uncle’s notice.”
“From his notice?” He choked over the idea that she could keep a dog the size of a small pony from someone’s notice. He began to laugh. Determined not to give offense, he tried to stop but couldn’t. “I’m—” he started to apologize, but by then, she was laughing, too.
“Fruitless, I know. I could throw a blanket over him,” she suggested, gulping over her laughter.
“You’d need a small shed,” he said, sending her off again.
Tears ran down her cheeks by the time laughter subsided. He handed her his neatly folded handkerchief, his bare hand touching her gloved one, and ripples of feeling shot through him. She paused, her hand on the offering, as if she felt it, too. Their eyes caught momentarily before she glanced away quickly, dabbing her eyes with the handkerchief.
Gideon clasped his hands behind him to avoid the temptation to take the linen back and wipe her tears himself.You’re almost old enough to be her father, Kendrick—fifteen years older, or more. Rein yourself in.
*
Mia felt theheat along her neck and knew her face must be red as a strawberry. She pressed the gentleman’s pleasantly soft handkerchief to her cheeks longer than was necessary, letting it soothe her nerves. It smelled of pine and some other very masculine undertones, causing a warm rush of feelings she could hardly identify but that she wanted to cherish.
