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Vane blinked. He clearly needed time to process the flurry of words. Finally, he clenched his jaw. “Millie named him.” Isabel raised her brow, so he continued. “She thought his nose was shaped like a button when he was smaller. She was a tiny babe and could barely speak, so she’d tap his nose and call him Button. And that stuck.”

“Why would you buy a tiny babe such a large dog?” Isabel grumbled.

“Why do you have to question everything about him? His name is Button, and he’s Millie’s.” He threw his hands up and looked at her in frustration. She just cocked a brow. “I bought him after… after….”

“Yes?”

“After her mother left.” Vane looked away as if it hurt him to remember it—much less say it aloud. “She didn’t have a mother anymore, so I thought she might need a friend or a companion… a protector.”

Pain flashed in his eyes before he moved her leg away and stood.

A protector. People did not refer to mothers thus. Isabel swallowed. She wanted to know more. For some odd reason, she wanted more than anything for him to confide in her, but she didn’t push.

“Well, I am not stating that she wanted to hurt me on purpose. I am saying that she was trying to distract our attention during the entire picnic. She thinks I am here to disrupt your lives.”

“And you aren’t?” Vane grumbled under his breath.

Isabel raised her eyes heavenward, suddenly tired of sparring with the square-headed marquess.

“I don’t know how you see our marriage, Vane. But I would think that your daughter getting along with your wife should be one of your priorities. You managed to make my life smoother with the servants, for which I am eternally grateful, but I would rather I had a better relationship with your daughter.”

* * *

Lady Isabel did not come down to breakfast the next morning, and Rhys couldn’t help but feel guilty. Did her foot ache so badly that she’d opted to stay inside? Or was she still upset that Rhys did not encourage her bonding with his daughter?

After all, Rhys had to admit she was right. Rhys treated her with mistrust, thinking she would act scandalously and inappropriately around Millicent, but the truth was he had little cause for worry.

Lady Isabel carried out her duties to perfection. At first, the servants were antagonistic toward their new mistress, but now they were in awe of her. The house had turned from a gloomy old place to a kingdom of flowers and color. The food was impeccable. Everything she set her mind to, she performed splendidly.

And this forced Rhys to accept a simple realization. His mistrust toward her about Millie had nothing to do with her scandalous past but everything to do with his.

He turned to Millicent, who was feeding Button bread rolls off the table. “Millie, I think we should go and visit Lady Isabel after breakfast.”

Millie frowned. “Why?”

“Because Button hurt her yesterday, and he needs to apologize.”

Millie chewed on her lip. “But he didn’t mean to.”

Rhys hid his smile. “I know that. But when we hurt someone unintentionally, we have to apologize.”

Millicent grimaced, but her features cleared after a moment. “And then can we go play outside?”

“Of course.”

* * *

To Rhys’s surprise, by the time they had finished breakfast and set out to find Lady Isabel, she was nowhere to be found. He had asked the butler about her whereabouts, and Mr. Monroe raised a brow.

“She went to the village, just like she always does at this hour.”

Rhys felt uncomfortable. He didn’t know about his wife’s activities. After their last trip to the village, he had assumed she never went there again. As it turned out, this couldn’t have been further from the truth.

“We are going to the village?” Millie asked, her eyes shining with excitement. She loved playing with the children whenever they went to visit.

Rhys smiled. “Yes, we are.”

A few minutes later, Rhys was cantering along the road, Millicent in his lap, Button running along with his horse, toward the village.