The farmer blinked and stuttered out an apology as if he had just been told off by his father. “My apologies, Miss Marianne, Miss Grace, and Master Felix.” Then, sensing the weight of the captain’s disapproval, he turned to the servants. “And my apologies to you too, Tom. Ada.”
“Splendid.” Looking every inch the fearsome commodore of a Royal Navy flagship, he finally let go of the man’s hand and with a fake smile said, “Now disappear before I set our dog on you.”
The man practically broke into a run in his haste to leave, the offending puppy still dangling from his fist as he went. Georgie was on the cusp of running after him to rescue the poor thing when the captain spoke again.
“What are you going to do with the pup?”
Emboldened by the few feet of distance and disgruntled at his thorough dressing-down, the farmer was all belligerence again. “This runt ain’t good for nothing but drowning!” An answer that instantly made little Grace burst into horrified tears and the faces pale on her shocked siblings. As if he, too, understood English, Norbert beganto howl at that unfair death sentence, and she watched the captain’s shoulders slump.
“Give him here.”
The farmer dropped the puppy on the ground and stalked off, leaving the poor, terrified thing in a collapsed heap on the gravel. He was there barely a second before the captain scooped him up and cradled him to his chest. Then tried to subtly calm the thing by rubbing its ears while he stalked back, doing his best to look like a man thoroughly put-upon.
Much to Georgie’s chagrin, that kind gesture went some way toward redeeming him when she had promised herself after the whole mortifyingdreadful mistakeincident this morning that she would loathe him with a fiery passion for all eternity. Hell hath no fury, after all, and she felt rightly scorned as well as thoroughly humiliated. But he had just saved an innocent puppy, so she supposed that rendered all bets off—at least temporarily.
“It appears, children, that you now have a second dog.” He gently held the puppy out, then instantly cradled it close again when Ada’s omnipotent spoon slashed in the air.
“That’s not how it goes, Harry. A dog has to choose its own master. Them’s the rules.”
“Aye, she’s right,” said her husband as if the captain had just broken one of the Ten Commandments. “The poor thing will never be a happy hound otherwise.”
“Like Norbert chose me,” added Felix as if he too knew that there were laws about dog ownership, or vice versa, that the rest of the world was unaware of. “And you did save his life, Uncle Harry, just like I saved Norbert’s, so I think that dog is already yours.”
“Felix makes a valid point,” said Tom again, pointing toward the shaking puppy, who had buried his shaggy head beneath the captain’s smart navy coat. “He clearly likes you.”
“I daresay, to his eyes, any human would be an improvement after that awful farmer threatened to drown him. That does not make him mine. So why don’t we all settle this once and for all by getting this scruffy little mutt to choose which one of the three of you he likes best?” The captain snapped his fingers as he carried the puppy into the drawing room and then ordered the children to line up six feet apart.
With Norbert glued to his hip and staring up at his offspring, not quite knowing what to make of it, he turned the baby dog around to face him. “Apparently, troublesome son of Norbert”—with a perturbed look, he lifted the puppy higher to briefly check that he was indeed a male before proceeding—“these deranged people have decreed that you must choose your master or the delicate balance of the universe will be forever disrupted. You therefore have three fine choices and I’m afraid I am not one of them.” Then he turned him toward the children and wandered past each, allowing the puppy a few seconds apiece to sniff them. Norbert followed before he returned to the center of the room. “Now go choose who you belong to so we can all go to bed.”
He put the puppy down and it looked up at him, uncertain for a moment before his sire decided to lick him within an inch of his little life. That essential canine washing ritual done, Norbert backed away as if he, too, knew that his son needed to choose the human who would be his.
Grace, who had been struggling to contain her excitement since the puppy arrived, immediately began to call him to her. “Come to me, boy!”
“No! Come to me!” Marianne, who was appalled at that flagrant cheating, bent and patted her knees, only to be shoved out of the way by Felix.
“Come on, boy! Come to me! I’ll fetch you a sausage if you do.”
Then, almost in unison, both his sisters rallied against him.“That’s not fair! You have a dog!” Then they looked to their uncle and to Georgie, pleading them to take their side as much jostling and more promising of sausages went on.
“Stop it, all of you! You are frightening him!” Georgie pointed to where the poor puppy had retreated into the gap between the captain’s boots. Then, because the little thing looked thoroughly overwhelmed, she postponed the decision before things got too out of hand. “The puppy can choose his new master in his own sweet time when he is more settled and you three have calmed down!”
Three similar bottom lips all protruded at once and then stuck out some more with her next directive. “Go to bed, the lot of you, and leave him in peace.”
“But Miss Rowe!” Felix stamped his foot. “We love puppies.”
“Cuthbert will still be here tomorrow. But right now, he is scared stiff, has just been separated from his mother for the first time in his very short life, and has been deposited in a strange house by an angry man who wanted to drown him. That is enough trauma for a little one to cope with in one evening, so control yourselves!” Three dark heads bowed in shame. “Bed. Now.” She pointed to the stairs.
“But Uncle Harry!” Marianne, in her true manipulative fashion, sought to undermine that instruction. “If we are good and quiet, we could help make him feel at home.”
“I think that is Norbert’s job.” An answer which none of the children could argue with now that Norbert was licking the puppy again between the captain’s boots. “He’ll look afterCuthberttonight.” He flicked his amused gaze Georgie’s way at her presumptuous choice of the dog’s name. “Do as Miss Rowe says, or I shall keep the puppy for myself and refuse to let you ever play with him.” He pointed to the stairs too and parroted her words. “Bed. Now.”
He seemed surprised when the children did exactly as he commanded but covered it quickly when he caught her watching. “Itappears we have a second potentially mad dog, because one wasn’t bad enough.” His smile was uncertain. “I hope he is every bit as deranged and impossible as Norbert is. That will teach my sister to leave her horrid children in my care.”
“That was a very nice thing that you just did.” Credit where credit was due. “The children wouldn’t have slept a wink tonight if you hadn’t taken Cuthbert in.” As that seemed like the opportune moment to bid a hasty retreat herself, and because he had saved a puppy’s life and that made him significantly less hateable than he had been an hour ago, Georgie spun on her heel to follow the children rather than be all alone with him. “But I’d best go check that they have indeed gone to bed as requested.”
She was about to climb the stairs when she realized he had followed. “Why Cuthbert?”
She turned and, at the sight of the puppy back in his arms having its ears tickled again, felt her resolve to despise him waver further. “As the name Norbert suits Norbert so well, and as he is the son of Norbert, Cuthbert seemed to fit.” She shrugged, more awkward than she had ever felt before. “But please feel free to change it. He is your dog, after all.”
