Page 36 of The Viscount's Promise
“Shall I tell you a secret?” Her mother leaned in close and dropped her voice to a whisper. “She terrifies me, as well.”
Emily laughed. Her mother’s eyes danced with mischief. “And so, you see,” she went on, “it is more self-preservation than anything else that I let her have her head.” She chuckled, then sobered. “But if you are insistent on trying to find the owner, please don’t go at it alone. I would have you bring some support with you, if at all possible.” As Emily nodded and lifted her glass of lemonade to her lips, Lady Willbridge arched one brow and said, much too calmly, “Like that Lord Morley. He could help, you know.”
An immediate choking fit assailed Emily. The dog regarded her, his head tilting to one side. Her mother merely looked to the archers. Really, Emily thought not a little meanly, the dog showed more concern over her distress.
As she worked to gain control of her breathing, Emily managed to keep her gaze from straying to the group collected on the lawn. She had spent enough time that morning not looking in that direction, knowing that Lord Morley was of the party trying their hand at bow and arrow. “I don’t have the faintest idea why you would suggest him.” She had hoped to sound unconcerned. She must have failed miserably if the small lift of her mother’s lips was any indication.
“You children, you all think your mother is blind. I have seen the way he’s paid you particular attention.”
Mortification made Emily’s cheeks burn. “No, Mama,” she choked. “You have it quite wrong, I assure you.”
The older woman gave her a long look. There was entirely too much knowledge in her eyes. Emily felt stripped bare and had the insane desire to bolt. Providence, however, took pity on her, as Daphne approached them with Sir Tristan. She was laughing at something he said while unlacing her bracer.
“Daphne,” Emily blurted, eager to deflect her mother’s attention from her nonexistent love life, “I’ll be heading out in a short while to canvass the houses and farms nearby in an attempt to locate the dog’s owner. I don’t suppose you and Sir Tristan would care to join me?” Really, this was too perfect. She could do her duty and search for the dog’s owner and have a chance to get Daphne and Sir Tristan off alone again. Her efforts thus far had been well rewarded. The two had been fairly inseparable since the trip to pick berries. No thanks to Lord Morley’s constant hovering about them.
“Are you really going to get rid of this lovely fellow?” Her sister tossed her bracer aside and dropped down on her haunches beside the dog, who wagged his tail as Daphne ruffled his ears.
“Only if necessary. I have promised Mama to put a day into the search for his rightful owner and not a moment more.”
“Well,” Daphne said, “I can’t say I shall be happy in the search, but I shall join you nonetheless.” She craned her neck to peer up at Sir Tristan. “And you? Will you come along?”
“Oh, certainly. I would not leave you ladies to the wilds of Ketterby.”
“What is this about the wilds of Ketterby?” Lord Morley’s deliciously deep voice interrupted.
Emily’s heart dropped into her toes. Of all the luck.
Sir Tristan helped Daphne to her feet. “I’ve promised to accompany these lovely ladies on the search for the owner of this pup here.”
“Is that so?” Lord Morley’s eyes flickered to her for a moment. “Well, I do hope your little party can accommodate one more.”
“Oh, certainly,” Sir Tristan replied. “Though I should leave it up to the ladies.” He dipped his head in their direction.
Emily opened her mouth, more than ready to refuse Lord Morley’s offering, when Daphne spoke. “But of course. The more the merrier. You know,” she said, rising, “perhaps we could make a large party of it. Send groups off in different directions. We can cover more ground that way, don’t you think, Mama?”
“Oh, certainly,” that woman replied. “How clever. Perhaps you can even bring Imogen’s siblings into it as well. They have not been able to join in much with the festivities. I’m afraid Lady Tarryton does not seem as if she cares to have them underfoot. This could be just the thing to make them feel included.”
Daphne clapped her hands together in delight. “What a capital idea. I shall go in directly to change and inform their nanny. Sir Tristan, I leave the gathering of the rest to you.” So saying, she spun about and ran inside, the pink ribbons of her gown trailing behind her.
Emily sat, stunned, as Sir Tristan hurried off to do Daphne’s bidding. What should have been a simple thing of her own making had quickly been yanked from her hands and made into a complicated—and crowded—undertaking. Belatedly she recalled Lord Morley’s presence. He looked down at her with shadowed eyes. Flustered, she abruptly stood. The dog did likewise, and she was distinctly grateful for his warm presence against her leg.
“Excuse me,” she murmured. “I’d best get ready, as well. Mama. Lord Morley.” Dipping a quick curtsy, grabbing up her discarded parasol, she hurried away as fast as she could manage with that dark gaze burning her back.
• • •
She was up to something.
Malcolm watched Lady Emily send Lady Daphne and Tristan off ahead to the farmhouse up the hill in an obvious attempt to get them alone. Bending down to the young boy at his side, he whispered in his ear, “Go on now, you know what you need to do.” With a wide grin young Bingham Duncan sped off, insinuating himself between the other couple. Malcolm smiled.
It truly had been a stroke of luck that Lady Willbridge had suggested they bring along Imogen’s siblings. And even better luck that his little group had been blessed with the eleven-year-old boy. The fellow was eager to get in his good graces, it seemed, having been mostly ignored by his elder brothers for much of his life. And so Malcolm had come up with a brilliant plan. It was a secret, their own little game, to see how often the boy could insinuate himself between Tristan and Lady Daphne. Blessedly, Bingham had not thought the request odd at all, too in awe of Malcolm to think of questioning it.
Lady Emily glared at him. “What do you think you’re about with that boy?”
What do you think you’re about, pushing Tristan and your sister together?he wanted to ask. He’d best not get her back up. Instead, he said, “Thus far we have not had any luck in locating the owner of that beastie by your side. You must be relieved.”
The distraction worked. She turned to look down at the dog walking between them. Her face softened considerably. He secretly hoped she would not have to give up the animal. No matter how at odds they were, she did not need that grief in her life. Even he could see how the creature doted on her, and how much more relaxed she was with him by her side.
“The other three groups may have had luck,” she replied. Even as she said it, her gloved fingers entwined in the dog’s closely shorn fur, as if she could hold him to her side by sheer force.
