Forever Betrothed, Never the Bride (Scandalous Seasons #1)(46)

The pup eventually tired of his game, and instead of sitting for the duchess, returned to Drake and plopped down atop his boots. The creature’s eyes fluttered heavily, before he emitted a contented sigh, and fell into a deep, snoring slumber.

The duchess gracefully rose and crossed over to Drake. She claimed his hands in hers and leaned up to kiss him on each cheek. “It really is wonderful to see you, Drake. How is your father?”

Drake had been raised a gentleman and was therefore able to momentarily forget the four-pound reason for his visit.

“He is well, Your Grace, thank you for asking.”

She rang for refreshments. “I must say, I’m thrilled to see you, but surely there must be some other reason for your visit?” She softened the searching question with a wide smile.

Drake started. It was Emmaline’s smile.

Mallen reclaimed his leather seat and motioned to the puppy. “He’s come to tattle on Emmaline.”

The duchess blinked in confusion, wide hazel eyes moving from her son to Drake.

“I did not come to tattle.” Drake shuffled on his feet, momentarily displacing the pup. The beast was a resolute one, for he climbed right back up onto his perch and gave what Drake swore was a disapproving look. Great now the dog is put out with me as well.

Mallen smiled. “Oh good, then. He came to thank Emmaline.”

Before Drake could disabuse him of the notion, Mallen rang again. “Have Lady Emmaline summoned immediately,” he said to the servant who entered the room.

The servant bowed and hurried to do the duke’s bidding.

“Of all the preposterous things,” Drake said under his breath, shifting the dog from his feet.

The pup’s eyes flew open at being jarred, but then he gave a high-pitched yap and found a renewed burst of energy. He began running circles around Drake, who momentarily followed him with his eyes before getting dizzy, and forced himself to look away from the pup’s display.

“Did you call me preposterous?” Mallen snapped.

“Why yes, I did.”

Mallen’s chest puffed out. “Don’t call me preposterous.”

“I’ll not take orders from…”

The Duchess of Mallen clapped her hands together once, then twice. “Gentlemen, please. Remember you are men.” She focused an overly long, disapproving look on Drake.

He resented being made to feel in the wrong. Noble young ladies did not, under any circumstances, send gifts to unmarried gentlemen—even if they were betrothed to the gentleman. It simply wasn’t done. This, however, hadn’t simply been a gift. Why, she’d sent round a dog.

You didn’t send someone a dog. You just…well, you just didn’t do it.

Emmaline sailed into the room. “You wanted m—” Her glance alighted on Drake and an enchanting smile wreathed her face. “Oh, hello, my lord!”

He bowed. “My lady.”

She wore that same silly, straw wide-brimmed hat she had worn in the gardens. The same one he’d torn from her head and tossed to the ground before he…

Her whiskey-colored eyes fell to the black pup. The little devil jumped at Drake’s legs again, clearly asking to be picked up.

“You’ve met him! Isn’t he precious? Aren’t you precious?” she said in a high singsong voice. She gracefully sank to her knees, sending her pale blue skirts fluttering, similar to the way the duchess had moments ago.

Only this time, thank God, the infernal beast went gladly over. Emmaline scooped him up and allowed him to lap her face with his rough, pink tongue. Lucky fellow.

“Aren’t you sweet? Do you like your new master? I’m sure he’s taking wonderful care of you.”

Drake blinked several times. Why did he feel as though he’d stepped on the stage of a great farcical comedy of which he was the lead actor but didn’t know his lines?

“Lord Drake has come to say thank you, Emmaline,” Mallen called from behind his desk. His expression indicated he was enjoying the exchange far more than Drake.

“No, I haven’t. I have come to return him,” Drake bit out. As if understanding those hurtful words, the black puppy whimpered and flipped onto his back, sidling back and forth on the Aubusson carpet.

“Never say you are displeased with the little fellow.” Mallen pressed a hand to his chest in feigned astonishment.

“I wouldn’t say I am pleased with him,” Drake snapped.

Emmaline’s smile faded like the sun dropping from the horizon to usher in the night sky. “You cannot return Sir Faithful. Poor Sir Faithful.” She went over to the crestfallen pup and scratched his tummy. “Mean Lord Drake has hurt your feelings. Nasty, nasty man.”

Just then a tray of refreshments was delivered and set on the table at the corner of the room. Mallen chuckled. “Ahh, perfect! Refreshments to accompany this show.”

Drake glared at the other man and then Emmaline’s words registered. A loud guffaw sprung from his lips. “Sir Faithful? Surely you jest? You have named the creature Sir Faithful?”

Emmaline climbed to her feet and planted her hands on her hips. “There is nothing funny about his name.”

Drake took a step forward. “No, there is nothing funny about his name. There is everything funny about his name.”

Drake rolled his shoulders and looked helplessly to the duchess and Mallen. Finding no help there, he jabbed a finger in Emmaline’s direction. “Nor for that matter can you go about simply naming other people’s dogs.”