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Rhys picked up a stick from the ground to avoid Millie’s expectant gaze and threw it for Button to fetch. Button galloped away, his tongue wagging out of his mouth.

“I don’t know,” Rhys said. “You might have to stay with Lady Isabel.” He took the stick from Button’s mouth as the dog returned and gave it to Millie. “Here. Now you throw.”

“Why?” Millicent threw the stick and watched the galloping dog, frowning.

Lady Isabel reached them at that moment.

“Because Lady Isabel is right. You need education.”

Lady Isabel beamed at him. “Thank you.”

“Papa! Now you throw!” Millie handed him the stick, looking as ominous as the dark cloud on the horizon.

Rhys threw it, and Button dashed after it.

“Well, I hope we can find Millicent a governess in time,” Lady Isabel said.

Millicent frowned at her. Button came back just then, a stick in his mouth.

Millie took it and turned toward Lady Isabel. “Lady Isabel,” she called, “Catch!” and threw the stick right at her chest.

Lady Isabel was able to catch the stick in her arms, but at that moment, Button raced after the stick and tackled her to the ground.

Chapter 15

That treacherous little fiend!

That was the last thought that ran through Isabel’s mind before the world went black. When she regained consciousness, she was staring at the clear blue sky. Then Button’s face appeared before her as he licked her across the face.

“Ugh!” Isabel grimaced and turned away.

“Button, off!” Vane’s stern voice was able to get the dog away from her. Then the marquess himself appeared before her, his face worried. “Are you well? Can you get up?”

“I don’t know.” Isabel sat up and looked around.

“Did you hurt yourself badly? How is the babe? Should I ask for a doctor?”

“What babe?” Isabel was so confused. Perhaps she did hit her head badly.

“The babe,” Vane said sternly. “Your babe.”

“Ah, the nonexistent one.” Isabel scowled. Were they back to that? “I am quite healthy. Please, help me up.”

Vane took her by the arms, but before she could put her weight on her feet, her right leg was pierced with pain. “Ow, my ankle.”

Vane helped her back down, frowned, and reached his hands toward her skirts. “May I?”

Isabel nodded. She couldn’t care about propriety at that moment. Her blasted ankle hurt like the devil.

He raised her skirts slightly to her knee, then ran his hand lightly over her calf. Goosebumps covered her leg, and the feeling of pleasure replaced the pain. Isabel whimpered.

“Does it hurt now?”

Isabel shook her head.

Vane frowned and took off her half-boot. He gently squeezed her leg around the ankle, and Isabel hissed.

“It doesn’t appear to be broken, but you seem to have twisted it.”