Page 7 of An Earl Like You
“If you would stay out of the kitchen scrap pile, you wouldn’t have to get a bath,” Eliza scolded him as she scrubbed the matted fur under his chin. Whatever Willy had rolled in was sticky as well as smelly, and her nose wrinkled as the maid poured buckets of clean water over him. Willy’s ears were down flat on his head, and he wriggled in her grip as she held him under the rinse water.
“Open the door, Louisa,” said Eliza, trying to get a grip on her wet, wriggly dog. “I’m going to put him straight into the garden to dry.”
The scullery maid swept open the door leading into the walled kitchen garden. Eliza gauged the difference, and heaved Willy out of the tub, clutching him against her chest. He wasn’t very heavy, but he was all muscle, and when he was wet he might as well have been an otter.
Sure enough, he started twisting with renewed vigor, and managed to rake one paw across the underside of her chin. “Ouch! Willy—stop!” She tried to hold him tighter, but he was thrashing wildly now, slipping through her hands. “Willy—Willy, no, bad dog!”
The dog hit the floor running. He raced under the sink and sent buckets clattering out into the narrow scullery. Louisa, the silly girl, shrieked and cowered out of his way, accidentally knocking the garden door closed. Willy skidded on wet paws and slammed into the closed door so hard he rebounded and rolled over backward. Eliza gasped in concern, but Willy was back on his feet and running again. The poor dog. He was scared and perhaps hurt. She ran to open the door so he could get into the garden, where he loved to be.
“What’s this noise?” Cook threw open the door from the kitchen. “Louisa, what be you doing?”
“No,” cried Eliza as Willy shot past Cook’s feet, making her shriek. Willy could get into so much trouble in the kitchen, especially when he was being chased. Willy adored being chased.
Cook fell back as Eliza ran by her. “Bar the door,” she shouted to a startled footman. But his arms were full of dishes, and she threw up her hands as Willy jumped against the swinging door and escaped the kitchen.
Eliza yanked the kerchief from her head. “Bring the towel, Louisa,” she called as she picked up her skirt and ran after the dog. Papa would be so annoyed. She hoped he was still out, or safely closed up in his study.
But as she rushed into the spacious entry hall, barely a step behind Willy, a dreadful sight met her eyes. Not Papa, but much worse: a visitor, and one she’d never met before. He was just handing his hat to the butler, and he looked up in astonishment as Willy hurtled toward him, yapping happily. Willy loved people, especially new people. He would jump on them and lick their hands, and he had been known to nip a dangling pocket watch or loose handkerchief off an unsuspecting victim. Unfortunately his teeth were rather sharp, and he also tended to leave little holes in whatever clothing he caught.
“Willy!” She lunged toward her dog. Papa would be furious if Willy stole the guest’s handkerchief or ripped his coat. “Sit!”
The wicked animal bounded out of her reach, his tail wagging. He paused long enough to give a hard shake. Eliza flushed in mortification as the gentleman leapt backward to avoid the spray of water. “Willy, sit,” she said firmly, advancing on the dog. From the corner of her eye she saw Louisa, the scullery maid, hovering in the doorway with a towel. Perhaps, if she were very lucky, the gentleman would think she was also a maid.
Willy cocked his head, watching her. Eliza advanced on him without looking away.Stay there, she silently commanded the dog. She didn’t dare look at the visitor.
“If I may, Miss Cross,” began the butler just as she got within an arm’s length of her pet. At his voice, Willy jumped sideways, gave another bark, and took off toward the visitor at a run.
Eliza let out a horrified noise and threw herself forward. She managed to intercept Willy, but the dog pulled her off balance and onto her knees, dragging her under the large round table that stood in the center of the rotunda hall before she got a good grip on him. The dog wriggled, but she clamped her arms around him until he gave up the fight and began furiously licking her face.
“Are you all right?” asked a voice.
Eliza dodged Willy’s tongue and looked up to see the gentleman visitor bending down to regard her with a mixture of caution and alarm. Abruptly the indignity of her position flooded in on her, and she felt her face turn red. “Yes, perfectly,” she said, crawling from under the table, still clutching the wet dog.
His brow quirked ever so slightly, doubting her assurance, but he extended one hand. “How fortunate.”
She had no choice but to let him help her up. He lifted her easily back to her feet, despite Willy’s struggles. He had already removed his gloves, and his palm seemed to leave an impression of tingling warmth on hers. She cringed to think of the traces of soapy bathwater her hand must have left on his. “Thank you, sir.” Breathless, she swiped at her hair, cringing as the loose lock flopped wetly against her ear. “Please pardon Willy, he’s very... energetic. But friendly!”
The visitor’s eyes moved from her to Willy, who arched his neck in a renewed attempt to reach him. Eliza knew Willy only intended a welcoming lick, but it might look rather like he meant to bite. The gentleman straightened his shoulders, subtly drawing away as she wrestled the dog back into place.
“I’m relieved to hear it,” he said. His voice was really lovely, rich and smooth and unmistakably upper class, with the sort of diction that had been honed from birth. It fit with the rest of him, tall and well-dressed and impossibly handsome. His dark hair was combed back, but curled around his ears and collar, hinting at what he might look like when he was at ease, at home. His jaw was sculpted, and though he wasn’t smiling now, there were little lines around his mouth that hinted he did smile, a lot.
But it was his eyes that made her acutely aware of how disheveled and dirty she was, clutching her dog to her soaked apron. His eyes were kind, and curious, and faintly amused; she just knew that still-quirked brow meant he was laughing inside at the chaotic welcome she’d given him.
And so, unprepared and embarrassed, Eliza did what she usually did when confronted by a handsome man. Her tongue froze to the roof of her mouth and her face burned red, and she heard herself giggle nervously. She should introduce herself. She should apologize. She should say something witty, or at least polite, and instead she just stared at him, more awkward by the moment.
“Eliza.” Papa’s voice was sharp. “What is going on?”
Oh dear. She jerked her gaze away from the mystery gentleman. Papa stood at the top of the stairs, surveying the scene with displeasure. “Willy got away from me after his bath.”
Papa’s lips thinned and he glared at the dog. Willy’s tail thumped against Eliza’s hip, and he yipped in delight at the sight of Papa, who fed him bacon. “Lord Hastings, my daughter Elizabeth. Eliza, this is the Earl of Hastings.”
Anearl. Mortified, Eliza made a clumsy curtsy. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lord,” she murmured.
“Miss Cross.” The visitor bowed. The light of humor in his eyes was gone now.
“I’d better put Willy in the garden,” she said. “Please excuse me, sir.” She started to curtsy again, almost lost her hold on Willy, and settled for walking very quickly out the back of the hall. Louisa, hiding behind the door, popped out as she approached, the towel in her outstretched hands. Eliza glared at her, irrationally annoyed at the girl. It wasn’t Louisa’s fault the dog loved to be chased, nor was it Louisa’s fault Cook had opened the door at the wrong moment. It was Willy’s fault, and as a result she’d met a handsome, good-humored gentleman... while dressed like a servant and smelling of wet dog.
Just my luck, she thought, letting Louisa bundle Willy into the towel. And on top of that indignity, Papa would be angry with her for letting Willy loose in the house. “Bad dog,” she whispered to her pet as she went back to the kitchen. Willy’s ears drooped, but the moment she set him down in the garden, he gave a bark and a joyful leap, and was off chasing a bird.
