There was annoyance in him, certainly, but something warmer moved beneath it. His eyes held hers for a beat too long, and the air around her seemed to tighten.
Aaron looked between them, sensing something but not understanding it.
“I will help care for him.” Emmeline softened her voice before the boy could grow anxious. “Aaron and I both will. He can be kept in the stable at first if you prefer, with blankets and proper food, and we shall make inquiries in the village to be certain no one has lost him.”
Aaron nodded vigorously. “I will feed him. And brush him. And teach him not to chew anything important.”
Rowan gave the puppy a deeply skeptical look. “He appears capable of chewing many important things.”
“He is capable of learning,” Emmeline said.
Rowan’s gaze lifted back to hers.
His expression shifted almost imperceptibly, and for a moment she felt again the strange ache she had known when he kissed her. Here was another small test, another chance for him to choose the boy before the fear.
Aaron’s arms tightened around the puppy. “Please, Father.”
The plea was small, but the word was clear, no stammer.
Rowan’s whole face altered for the briefest moment, eyes widening. He looked at Aaron and the tension in his shoulders eased by a degree so slight that perhaps only Emmeline, who had been studying every guarded inch of him, would notice.
The puppy chose that moment to yawn.
Aaron looked down at it, then back up. “He needs us.”
The hall went very quiet.
Rowan’s mouth tightened. He looked away once, toward the open doorway and the sweep of lawn beyond. At last, he sighed.
“Not in my bedroom,” he said.
Aaron went utterly still. “What?”
“The dog is not to enter my bedroom.”
Aaron’s face began to brighten.
“Nor my study,” Rowan added sharply.
Emmeline could not stop the warmth that spread through her.
“And he will be examined,” Rowan continued, turning his head toward a nearby footman. “Send to the village for Mr. Clay. If he is unavailable, fetch the farrier and have him recommend someone who can tell whether the animal is healthy.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” the footman said at once and hurried off.
Aaron stared at his father as though he had just performed a miracle.
“We m-may keep him?” he whispered.
“For now,” Rowan said. “If he destroys anything of value, I shall reconsider.”
Aaron shifted the puppy carefully to one arm and then, before anyone could move, threw himself against Rowan.
Emmeline’s heart stopped.
Rowan froze completely. The boy’s thin arms wrapped around his father’s waist as best they could, puppy squirming between them, and Aaron pressed his face into Rowan’s coat with a small, breathless sound.
“Thank you,” Aaron said, muffled and breathless. “Thank you, Father.”
