Chapter Nineteen
Wearing the darkest of our gowns, Molly and I tripped down the servants’ staircase, sneaking into the foyer on the main level during the servants’ dinner. Mother and Father were off to the Durham’s and Billington was down with the servants eating so we were free and clear. Molly had told our butler I needed rest and she was going to keep an eye on me with her mending, asking not to be disturbed. We could only hope they would have no reason to question her request.
Shadows of empty tree branches stretched across the road like claws. While it was not yet dark, the sun was well on its way to making its descent.
“We haven’t much time,” I said, walking briskly toward the park.
“What are we doing with the dog once we’ve got it?”
I stopped in my tracks. Looking at Molly, at a loss, I admitted, “I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”
“Perhaps we worry when we get to that point, then,” she offered.
“Yes. Good plan. We may not even find him.” Though I certainly wished we would.
We reached the park of Berkeley Square minutes later, my gaze sweeping the lawn for any shivering, small ball of dirty fluff. We crossed the street and made our way toward the tree where I had first seen the dog, but it was vacant. Turning slowly to sweep the park again, a figure caught my eye on the far end that had a familiar gait. I squinted my eyes but could not make out who it was. We continued to search for a good while until Molly made the suggestion, “Perhaps we should cross to those buildings and check the alleys.”
The concept had merit. Though it was far more dangerous than searching in an open park. I nodded reluctantly and we set off for the row of shops across the street. A carriage rambled up the street and I sunk backward when I recognized the family crest on the side of the door.
Grabbing Molly’s hand with my better one, I pulled her back toward the park. Evidently, I was not quick enough, for a moment later I heard Lord Cameron’s voice call behind me.
“Were you looking for this?”
I spun immediately, Lord Cameron leaned out of the open door of his carriage, my small, dirty dog wrapped in a blanket in his arms.
I exclaimed, dropping Molly’s arm and running to him heedless of my reckless appearance.
“How did you find him?” I asked, gently taking the dog from Lord Cameron’s arms.
“With a great many hours of searching.”
I looked up sharply, but he had a teasing glint in his eye. He was jesting, surely.
“I can take him from here. Thank you, Lord Cameron. I am much obliged.”
“And where will you take him?” he asked.
I halted. How feasible was it to hide a dog in my room?
“Home,” I said defiantly. “We can care for him, can’t we Molly?”
“Yes, miss.” Her head bent in deference. That wasn’t quite the reinforcement I had been looking for.
The little dog shook in my arms. I began stroking his head, my good arm supporting his body.
“He is unwell,” Lord Cameron said. “Its best he be seen by an animal doctor.”
“Do you know of one?”
He chuckled and my breath caught. “I’ve got a good one at home, though that is on the other side of the country.”
“Drat.”
He looked thoughtful, the fading light shadowing his face. “I could find one, though I think it more suitable for you to bring the mongrel to my house.”
That would not work. Mother could not return to find me missing, and I was not about to leave this poor dog again. “I need to return home right away.”
“And I feel more qualified to take on the care and responsibility of the animal.”
I scoffed. “You? Who left him defenseless, hurt and frightened? I am far more qualified to take on the care of this dog, for I actually care.”
The muscle jumped in his jaw and he turned away for a moment, his mind seemingly working around the problem. But I was not a problem to be sorted, and I had a mind of my own.
“We keep horses too, Lord Cameron, and I am confident my butler will be able to find a doctor for the dog, if needs be. I shall walk home with my maid now. Please consider my gratitude for your help today a sufficient thank you, for I do not think I’ll find time to write a proper note with how incredibly full my arms are at present.”
Concern flicked in his eyes. “Is your arm well?”
“Well enough,” I said through gritted teeth. “I am not weak, sir.”
A smile played on his lips. “Of that, Miss Cox, I am infinitely aware. Very well, you may have things your way.” With a dip of his hat, he hopped back into his carriage, tapped the roof with his knuckles, and was off, leaving me in the street with my maid and a dirty dog.
“Well, that was certainly unexpected.”
Molly scoffed. “I’d say, miss. What are we going to do?”
I began walking and she hurried beside me. “We are going to give this dog a bath and assess his injuries.”
“How do you know it’s a he?”
“I don’t.” I shrugged. “But I think we’ll find out soon.”
“Very good, miss.” Molly hastened to keep up with my quick, angry steps. “Only, are we really bringing a dog into the house? What will the missus say?”
“She won’t say a word.” I smiled. “No one will even know he is there.”
“IF NO ONE KNOWS HE is here, then they are all deaf,” Molly said, wiping suds from her forehead with the back of her wrist.
Exasperated, I threw a towel over the pup and wrestled him to the ground, hoping he did not have any severe injuries that I was making worse in the process. Getting him clean had been an ordeal. Dirty water now covered my wooden floor and wardrobe. The wall and vanity were splattered with muddy droplets and our gowns were similarly messy.
“I am glad you thought to roll away the carpet first,” I said.
Molly’s head turned to take in the mess and she grimaced. “A bath in the stables might’ve been wiser. I best start cleaning up.”
“Thank you, Molly.”
She turned sharply toward me, and then laughed, shaking her head. “‘Twas an adventure, I’ll give you that.”
I rubbed down the dog, her sad eyes pulling at my heart. Molly discovered during the bath that I had been wrong all along. Chagrined, I considered her face for the right name.
“You are certainly not a Sally or a Becky,” I said, tilting my face to the side. The dog tilted her head, mirroring my action. I tilted my head the other direction and she followed suit. “You clever girl,” I said, delighted.
Molly came back in the room with a pail and rags.
“I’ve got the perfect name,” I said. “Watch this.”
I showed Molly the head tilting trick and she had the grace to look impressed.
“What is her name then?”
“Copycat.”
“But she’s a dog.”
“I know,” I said, defensive. “It is ironic. And anyway, I shall call her Coco.”
“Oh! Coco is sweet. And fitting. Her coat is the color of morning chocolate now that she’s clean.”
I looked at Coco again and had to admit this was true. It was a shiny dark hue, matching her equally dark eyes. In a way, she resembled Rosalynn.
“Shall you like to be called Coco?” I asked the dog. She gave me a beseeching look and barked once. “I will take that as a ‘yes,’ then. Oh dear, she must be starving.”
“Allow me,” Molly said, dropping her rag and wiping dirty hands on her apron. She moved to my discarded dinner tray and sorted through the leftovers, surely looking for something appropriate for the pup to eat.
I took Coco to the fire and sat before it, using my hairbrush to comb her coat. So far there were no abrasions, so I could only hope the blood we washed off had come from me. I gently poked and prodded all of her limbs, and then her abdomen, but she did not protest once.
“I believe she is in fit physical condition. If my amateur evaluation means any
thing.”
“I agree,” Molly said. “She would‘ve whined more in the bath if anything was broken.”
She set a plate before us on the floor with meat chunks pulled from dinner and a bowl of water, and Coco jumped from my lap and dove in. When she finished licking the plate clean, she climbed back onto my lap and cozied in, falling asleep in a matter of minutes.
Gathering her in my arms I stood slowly, gently laying her at the foot of my bed. Once Molly helped me to dress in my night clothes, I peeled back my blanket and slipped inside. Coco moved suddenly and I froze while she positioned herself over my feet. A smile lifted the corners of my lips, and I drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Twenty
“Is it wrong of me to call that fortune?” I asked Molly, simultaneously moving my breakfast tray away while trying to hold Coco down.
“Come,” Molly said sharply. Coco sat on her hind legs, waiting patiently while Molly set a plate on the floor in front of the fire full of sausages and eggs and a bowl of clean water. Coco glanced once more at my plate before hopping down from the bed and devouring her food.
“Because I am not happy, exactly, that my mother is ill,” I continued, fingering the bandage on my arm. “But really, a summer cold is not all that horrid. And certainly she will want me to avoid her for fear I could catch it.”
Molly said nothing. She continued to pull out my day dress and lay it on the edge of my bed.
“Am I a terrible daughter?”
She looked up, shocked. “Of course not.”
“Then will you put that dress away and pull out something better for walking? I am going to take Coco out.”
“Yes, miss.”
I finished my breakfast and let Molly help me prepare for the day. When I was ready, I left Coco, Molly shushing her whining, and snuck out to check on Mother.
I knocked on her bedroom door before opening it slightly, poking my head inside. “You are ill?” I asked.
“Oh, dreadfully,” she said with feeling. “If this is the end, do not let them bury me in London!”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I said severely. “Are you in need of anything?”
“No, and do not set foot in this room, Elspeth. I cannot have you catching cold and dying before we find you a proper husband.”
I sighed. “If I am not to keep you company, then may I call on Freya?” I still needed her permission before I was able to leave the house.
“Very well,” she replied with long-suffering fortitude.
“Thank you, Mother.”
I raced back to my room, scooping up Coco before she could run into the hallway.
“I think she needs to go outside, miss,” Molly said, concern on her brow.
“I will take her in a moment. I need to find my reticule.”
“No, miss. Now.”
I glanced down at Coco’s writhing body and understood her meaning. Immediately racing for the hall, I took the servants stairs all the way down and out the back where the horses were kept. Coco leapt down the minute I reached outside and found a bush straight away to take care of her business.
Drat, I hadn’t even considered that component of caring for a dog. By the time Molly followed me outside with my bonnet and reticule, Coco was finished and sniffing along the flowers at the side of the house.
We set off for Freya’s, and Coco was just as talented at staying close as I had hoped. She veered a few times, but nothing kept her away from my ankles for very long. We reached the Hurst’s home in double the time it usually took, but that was no matter. It was nice to have Coco along. Standing on the empty street, outside Freya’s tall and imposing home, I found myself at a sudden loss.
“Oh dear. What do I do with you, Coco?”
“You can’t take her inside?” Molly asked.
“No, I do not think it is proper. If only I had a leash, I could control her better.”
“I can stay out here with her while you visit,” Molly offered.
“I do not know how long I shall be and I do not want you to lose her if she runs off. Perhaps it is better for you to take her home.”
Nodding once, Molly bent and scooped up Coco.
“After I show Freya how gorgeous she is now,” I said. “A small visit cannot be so bad?”
The butler showed us into the drawing room. Mrs. Hurst was seated on the couch with embroidery in her lap. Her face paled when we stepped through the door and I realized my mistake at once.
“Oh Elsie, you’ve found him!” Freya dropped her own needlework and crossed to Molly.
“He’s actually a she,” I corrected. “Meet Coco.”
“Where is she to live?” Freya asked, scratching Coco on the ears.
“With me, of course. Molly is going to take her home now, I only wanted you to meet her.”
Freya turned to me, confusion on her brow. “But I met her yesterday.”
“Yes, well, she has since had a bath. She is a new woman now.”
Molly curtseyed once and turned away, but Coco was not as happy to leave. She jumped from Molly’s arms and leaped onto the couch beside Mrs. Hurst, eliciting a scream from the woman.
“Oh dear,” Freya said, bustling to the sofa to move Coco away from her mother. “I forgot! Mama is allergic.”
Freya thrust Coco into Molly’s arms, who all but ran out the door. I turned toward Mrs. Hurst, my cheeks burning. “I am exceedingly sorry Mrs. Hurst, I had no idea.”
“No, well, you wouldn't dear,” she said, regaining her composure. “I stay quite clear of the things if I can help it.”
Mortification lay over me like a hot blanket and I stood, uncertain.
“Oh come in, dear,” she said finally, her good nature restored.
Gratefully, I crossed to the light blue armchair and lowered myself slowly. Freya returned to her needlework but shot me an amused glance which I was not quite ready to return.
“You are here without your mother?” Mrs. Hurst asked.
“She has caught a cold, I’m afraid.”
“Poor woman.”
Freya looked up. “Will you be missing Almack’s this evening?”
“I suppose so,” I answered. I had been looking forward to the break, anyway.
Mrs. Hurst tsked. “Nonsense, you shall come with us. It is settled.”
Freya was grinning into her lap. I had no one on my side there.
“Very well,” I agreed. “Now, tell me how you achieved that fantastic floral archway, Mrs. Hurst. It was positively gorgeous.” Which, it was. All the additional flowers on the night of the musicale caused the overwhelming smell that, in fact, still lingered.
“No, dear. A hostess never tells her secrets. I can’t have my ideas copied now, can I?”
“Isn’t it flattering when others use your ideas?”
“No,” Mrs. Hurst said simply. “That is called stealing.”
Chapter Twenty-One
I did not stay long at the Hurst home. With Mrs. Hurst remaining in the drawing room and not giving Freya and me a chance to speak alone we quickly ran out of topics. Especially after Freya brought up The Green Door and her mother shot it down, labeling it uncouth.
I took tea at home alone. My father was holed up in his study doing who knew what, and when I checked on Coco, she was fast asleep, likely still exhausted from the ordeal of her attack and subsequent rescue. Either that, or all of the food she was consuming was making her comatose.
A spark of an idea formed in my mind and I sat back, mulling it over for merit. By the time I decided to go forward with it, Coco was awake and yapping on the other side of my door. I slipped inside, finding Molly on the floor tossing a small object to the other side of the room, only for Coco to fetch it back to her and yap for Molly to throw it again.
“What a clever dog you are,” I said, closing the door behind me. “What do you say to a ride in the carriage, Coco?” I glanced up. “Molly?”
“Yes, miss. Let me get your bonnet and I’ll send for the carriage.”
“I already did.” I knelt down and scratched Coco behind the ears. “Would you like to see where my Aunt Georgina lives, Coco? Splendid. Let us go, then.”
THE CARRIAGE PULLED up in front of Aunt Georgina’s building. I turned to Molly while we waited for the footman to discover if she was at home for visitors. “You may take Coco to the park, if you’d like.” I gestured toward the park we had passed.
“Yes, miss.”
I was unaccountably nervous when the footman returned to tell me that Aunt Georgina would love to see me. I was led into a fabulous drawing room, immaculately designed to mimic the Egyptian style, with Aunt Georgina in the center of it all seated on her throne.
Well, it was a plush armchair. But it was golden.
“Good day, Aunt Georgina,” I said, moving to kiss her cheek.
“Darling, what took you so long?” she asked, peering behind me. “Your mother does not come?”
“My mother has picked up a cold.”
Amusement danced in the older woman’s eyes. “Ah, I see. She is indisposed and you took your shot to come and visit your old aunt.”
“Never say ‘old,’” I laughed, sitting on the settee across from her chair.
“Oh child, I am not afraid of aging.” She talked with her hands waving about, reiterating her finer points. “Of course, I’m dignified. I’m also old.”
I was distinctly uncomfortable but trying very very hard not to be.
“Now,” she continued, pointing at a pile of newspapers on a table in the corner of the room. “Tell me how much of that is truth, and to what degree they’ve been exaggerated.”
My cheeks grew warm and I cleared my throat.
Her delicate white eyebrow arched up. I had the distinct feeling Aunt Georgina was a no-nonsense type of woman. She could see through any falsities anyway, so there was no sense in trying to hide the truth.
“They are pretty accurate, embarrassing as it is to admit. However, the number and strength of my suitors are highly exaggerated.”
“I have a hard time believing that, Elspeth.”
I shrugged. “I am not in the market for a husband.”
Love in the Bargain: A Sweet Regency Romance (Women of Worth Book 1) Page 10
