Emmeline’s pulse gave one painful thud.
Then Aaron laughed again from the garden, bright and clear, calling for her.
She turned before the moment could become too much. Her skirts whispered over the floor as she followed the sound of the boy and the puppy into the sunlight.
Behind her, she felt Rowan watching. And this time, he did not turn away.
Chapter Sixteen
“Ic-cannot n-name him Biscuit,” Aaron said with great seriousness, sitting cross-legged on the drawing room carpet while the puppy attempted to chew the cuff of his sleeve. “That is a s-silly name!”
Emmeline looked up from where she knelt beside him, one hand reaching for the puppy’s soft middle as she tried to tug him gently away from Aaron’s sleeve before his tiny teeth did any real damage.
“Then why have you said it six times?” she asked with a teasing smile.
Aaron’s cheeks colored. “I was t-testing it.”
“And?”
He looked down at the puppy, who released his sleeve only to tumble backward over his own paws, ears flopping, round belly exposed to the room in a posture of complete defeat.
Aaron’s mouth twitched.
“It suits him,” he admitted, trying very hard to sound dignified and failing beautifully.
Emmeline’s heart softened so suddenly that it hurt.
The veterinary surgeon had come that morning, a brisk, cheerful man from the village who smelled faintly of straw and liniment and had declared the puppy male, underfed, and otherwise in excellent health. Since then, Aaron had changed the animal’s name from Soldier to Prince to Admiral to Mr. Paws, and finally, after the puppy had stolen half a biscuit from a tea tray and fled beneath the nursery table with the triumph of a highwayman, Biscuit had settled over him like fate.
“Then Biscuit he shall be,” Emmeline said solemnly.
Aaron looked at her, his eyes bright. “Truly?”
“Truly. Though he must learn to answer to it before he eats all our furniture.”
As if in response, Biscuit rolled upright and gave a small, offended bark.
Aaron laughed.
The sound filled the room with such clear, open delight that Emmeline went still for a moment. She had heard him smile before, had watched warmth come over him in brief, cautious flashes, but this laugh had no fear or apology in it.
It made her want to gather him in her arms and never let him go.
“Biscuit,” Aaron said, patting the carpet before him. “C-come here.”
The puppy stared at him.
Aaron frowned in concentration. “Biscuit. C-come.”
Biscuit yawned.
Emmeline pressed her lips together to stop herself from laughing. “Perhaps he requires a more persuasive tone.”
“I am being per-per-persuasive.”
“You are being ducal.”
Aaron glanced at her, confused. “Like Father?”
