Gentlemen Prefer Spinsters (Spinsters Club #1)(39)

She straightened and set back to work. Even if there really was someone trying to harm her—and she could not fathom a reason why—she would not let them dictate her life. She had already taken to ensuring she was never alone and Harcourt had inserted himself into her life more than ever. There had not been a single day since that she had not seen him. Glancing at the clock on the mantelpiece, she gave the face a thorough scrub and scowled. He would have normally checked on her by now. Where was he today?

Blast, was she really anticipating his arrival? Looking forward to it even?

She shook her head at herself. It really would not. Yet...yet she could not help herself. She missed his smile, the way his eyes creased at the corners when he looked at her, the deep timbre of his voice.

Lord, she even missed the way he made her feel—how he tangled her up inside until she did not know which way was up or which was down. She had not seen him for all of an evening and a morning, and she missed him! It was ludicrous.

A crashing noise made her heart bound again and she flung down the cloth to face whatever it was that had caused such a noise. Fists lifted, she found herself confronted by a large, black and white, shaggy and awfully muddy dog. The creature bounded over to her, jumped up to give her a lick across the face, then sprung over to the maid. Emma squealed when the dog pressed its filthy paws to her apron before jumping onto a chair then off again.

“What on earth...?” Merry made a grab for him but he darted out of reach, knocking into a side table and sending a vase to the floor. Thankfully it landed on the rug, saving it from disaster. The same could not be said for the dog.

Its tongue lolling from its mouth, it darted out of the door. Merry heard a crash from down the hallway and glanced at Emma. “Where did he come from?”

The maid shrugged. “We need to get him out before he dirties everything!”

Merry noted the muddy prints and splatters everywhere. He had almost undone all their hard work. She snatched her skirts. “I had better see if I can stop him.”

She followed the sound of chaos, dashing down the hallway and into the rear dining room. The dog did an excited loop of the room, forcing her to chase him around the table. “Come here, doggy,” she cooed.

The dog paused and tilted his head but the sound of the carpenter working on the door must have caught his ear as he cocked his head and raced in the direction of the back of the house.

“Damn doggy,” she muttered, taking off after him again.

A cry of annoyance came from the carpenter and Merry found the dog on top of the man, licking his face. “Get off me, damn dog.” Mr. Nicholson fought to get the great animal off him.

“Here, doggy,” she tried again. “Good, doggy. Why do we not find you something to eat?”

The animal paused at the word eat and lifted his head.

“That’s right,” she said softly. “Come with me. Let us find you some food.” She backed away slowly, coaxing the dog to follow her.

He took a few steps, inching closer. Merry stopped and continued to motion with her hand. “Are you hungry” She glanced underneath him “...boy?”

Just as the dog was within grasping reach, he sprinted off again. Merry cursed under her breath. If this continued, the whole house would be in chaos. She gave chase once more, following him down into the kitchen which was almost all organized. At least it had been. The dog knocked its big body into one of the tables, sending jelly molds and copper bowls to the floor. The crashing sound startled the dog and he darted under the large table in the middle, his body quaking.

Merry shook her head and squatted to eye him. “Silly, doggy. You are not so bold after all, are you?” She stretched her hands out. “Come here and I shall give you a biscuit.”

The dog inched out from his hiding space and gave her hand a lick. Apparently enjoying the taste of her, he gave her wrist a lick, then her forearm. She took the opportunity to grab him by the collar. He rewarded her with a long, wet lick across her face. Merry scratched behind his ears and rubbed his head.

“That’s better, is it not? After a bath, I think you would be a fine dog, if a little clumsy. But I know about clumsiness.”

“Ah, there you are.”

Merry peered at the boots in front of her then followed them up and up until she met Harry’s gaze. He grinned down at her. “I see you’ve met Orion.”

“Orion?”

“Rather appropriate name for your dog, do you not think?”

Standing, she brushed her hands down her skirt. Orion had apparently appeased his need for chaos and stood dutifully by her side. Likely waiting for a biscuit, she concluded.

“My dog?”

He nodded. “He used to be a sheepdog for one of the farmers on the estate but he’s getting a little old for the job now.”

Merry smiled down at the animal. “He seems to have all the energy of a pup.”

“And he is getting naughty in his old age.” He leaned forward and gave the dog a pat on the head. “He’s loyal, though, and could be good protection for you.”

She opened her mouth then closed it. As much as she wanted to protest the preposterous idea that she needed protection, that niggling feeling would not leave her.

“You shall have to forgive his muddy state. He was perfectly clean when we left but somehow found the only mud puddle in existence at the moment.”