Page 37 of Sir Andrew and the Authoress

Lyness grinned and made a gesture with his hand to one of the canines. It rose from where it sat and came to his side, its docked tail wagging furiously. “He is a Danish boarhound. This is Apollo, and his mate, Athena. Roman is training them as guards and companions, instead of leaving them to the kennels where such massive beasts belong.”

Lord Hartwell interrupted his conversation with her brother, leaning toward them as he answered. “There is no practical reason for ladies to have their pugs with them at all times, either. So long as they are well behaved, why banish them from the house?”

Josephine eyed the massive dog at her feet, looking into its large eyes and imagining the enormity of its teeth. “An unusual idea, for hunting dogs. Does your kennel master not train them as you wish?”

“My kennel master is among the best,” Lord Hartwell said, unoffended. “Which is why my dogs are more suitable to a castle than some gentlemen are.” He came closer and laid his hand atop the dog’s head. “You may pet him, if you like, my lady.”

Josephine hesitated. Though not normally afraid of animals, there was something to say about a dog who—when sitting—was more than half her height. Then she held out her hand for the animal to sniff before putting it between his ears. The creature leaned into her touch, its eyes large and soulful. She couldn’t help smiling.

“There you are. Fast friends,” Lord Hartwell said, scratching beneath the dog’s chin. He stood quite near, and yet Josephine felt neither stirred by his nearness nor repelled. She kept herself from sighing aloud.

Lord Hartwell wasn’t for her. No matter what her brother wished.

The servants whisked the visiting brothers away to show them their rooms, their massive dogs with them. Her grandmother, sisters, and their governess went away, whispering quietly about their guests.

Andrew reappeared by her side, looking at her askance. “There now.” He smiled, though it was brief. “What do you think? Does the baron have a chance with the duke’s daughter?”

Irritated as she was with all the matchmaking machinations of her family, Andrew joining the fray was more than she would countenance. But rather than narrow her eyes at him and answer sharply—which would only encourage his teasing—she pursed her lips as though giving the matter serious thought. She may as well have a bit of fun.

“Hartwell isn’t the worst candidate I have considered, though it remains to be seen if he is the best.” Josephine tapped her chin with a single finger. “I suppose more time in his company will help me put the matter to rest.” She spoke in cheerful tones. “His affection for animals is quite telling of his character, is it not?” Then she walked away from Andrew, only glancing back when she had gained the stairs.

He remained where she left him, a perplexing frown in place of his usual relaxed expression.

* * *

Never had Andrew seen such remarkably well-trained dogs as Apollo and Athena. The animals accompanied the four men on their morning ride, the day after Hartwell and his brother arrived at Castle Clairvoir. They kept up with the horses and never strayed far from their master’s watchful eyes.

It might surprise the duchess to see such enormous dogs trotting around her castle behind the baron, granted as much free rein as a lady’s lapdog or a terrier.

Was it wrong of Andrew to hope she returned to the castle while the baron remained? He should very much like to see how she reacted to the monstrous beasts lying upon her rugs. Even if they were perhaps the smartest dogs he had ever seen.

The men had halted at a rise overlooking Lambsthorpe, which was alive with people going about their morning chores and errands. Andrew smiled to himself, thinking of when he and Josephine had confused anyone watching with their walk to and from the vicarage a fortnight past.

“What is your opinion, Hartwell?” Simon’s voice brought Andrew away from his thoughts. “I know it is early yet, but you must at least have an impression of her already.”

Andrew’s gut twisted. He kept still, not turning to see what Roman Eastman’s expression might tell him. At dinner the evening before, he had been moved from his usual place next to Josephine to allow the guest of honor to sit in that place. He’d sat between the dowager and Lyness, instead, and had only caught snatches of the conversation between Josephine and the baron.

At breakfast, he had arrived late. Sleep had eluded him the night previous. When he came to the table, it was to see the baron assisting Josephine from the table. Then the man had walked out of the room with her, and neither had returned.

“Do you know how strange it is, for a brother to ask a man what he thinks of a sister?” Hartwell asked, amusement in his tone. He whistled a command to the dogs, who had bounded like puppies down the hill. They stopped, turned, and loped back up toward the riders. “I think she has grown into a charming young woman, but I am not ready to say whether we might be a match for one another.”

“You know how Roman is,” Lyness said, and this time Andrew looked. The younger man wore a wide grin. “He is notoriously slow at making decisions. He must ruminate a fortnight at least before he changes his menu. It will take him at least a year of such contemplation on the subject of matrimony. Maybe two.”

Why did that declaration give Andrew leave to relax the tension in his shoulders? Tension that had been building ever since Roman Eastman’s arrival. The relief was short-lived.

“I doubt it will take so long as that. Marriage is an important decision. The most essential decision, I should think, one will make in life. While I have no intention of rushing into it, I certainly will not hesitate to offer for a woman if I believe her to be the companion of my heart.” The baron spoke with such solemnity that his brother said no more, and Simon nodded gravely, as though he approved of the baron’s words.

The words had cast a spell over them all, apparently. Even Andrew felt their effects. The companion of his heart. He’d never thought long enough about marriage to put such words to what many of his peers called “leg-shackling” and “end to freedom.”

Hartwell hadn’t struck Andrew as the romantic sort. Yet he spoke as though it was something to aspire to rather than make trite witticisms about. And the baron meant to find out if Josephine would be that lifelong companion to him. Not just a feather in his cap, a social connection, or a dowry. But a part of his heart.

Simon spoke about the village, pointing here and there to improvements he and his father planned. Hartwell listened raptly, and Lyness hung back with Andrew.

“My brother is serious about finding a wife,” Lyness said, pulling Andrew’s attention to him.

“I have no doubt.” Andrew dismounted under the pretense of checking Honey’s foreleg. He scraped off dried mud and smoothed down the hair on the horse’s leg.

“I thought I should say something. You didn’t look best pleased with the idea.” Lyness dismounted, too. He picked up a long stick from the grass and threw it to the back of the hill for Apollo and Athena to chase. Each dog grabbed an end of the stick and playfully tried to tug it away from the other. “I know you are a close friend to the family, but perhaps you don’t see Roman the way I do. You shouldn’t worry that he will toy with Lady Josephine’s affections.”