Page 22 of Historical Hotties
“What in the world does he have in his mouth?” he wondered aloud. He reached into the dog’s mouth, pulling forth something that was warm. And alive. “Christ… it’s a puppy. Where in the hell did he get a puppy?”
Forgetting her giddiness and fear, Dacia was at his side, inspecting the tiny, mewling creature that was newly born.
She recognized it.
“In the stable,” she said, pointing to a small stable at the edge of the kitchen yard, butting up against the larger stable meant for the horses. “The cook’s dogs had puppies a couple of days ago. Is it injured?”
Cassius held the little creature up, trying to get a better look at it in the moonlight. “I do not think so,” he said. “Argos does not normally kill little creatures, but he has been known to bring them to me. Rabbits or anything else he can catch. He likes to bring me gifts. But never a puppy.”
“Come,” Dacia said quickly, taking him by the elbow and pulling him towards the stable. “We must return the puppy to its mother. It is quite possible she will reject him if your dog’s scent is on him.”
Cassius knew that. He knew something about animals. But at the moment, he was quite interested in the fact that she had him by the arm, escorting him towards the small stable where two goats lay in the straw. He followed her into a second stall were a big, gentle mother dog was nursing her litter of pups.
Cassius carefully handed Dacia the puppy and she put it down with the mother, who began licking it furiously. Argo, standing next to Cassius, was wagging his tail happily, as if confident he’d done the right and true thing by bringing his master a puppy. Cassius frowned at his dog, who licked his hand.
“Strange that the mother dog did not fight him when he tried to take a puppy,” he said. “Truly, Argo is a big, stupid beast who would never hurt anyone or anything. He’s very gentle that way.”
“Except when he is shoving women into the river,” Dacia said.
Cassius pretended to concede the point. “Aye, except that,” he agreed. “But I am coming to think that was a good thing.”
She looked at him as she stood up. “Why would you say that?”
He smiled. “Because I got to meet Dacia of Doncaster as a result,” he said. “Had Argos not been such a wild bull, I would never have had the opportunity to meet you.”
Beneath the apron, Dacia was smiling at his flattery. The entire time, she’d kept the apron up over her face with one hand, never once failing to keep it in place. She’d gotten used to doing that over the years.
But she was coming to wish that Cassius could see her smile.
“It is kind of you to say so,” she said. “But you have not caught me at my best. First in the river, now in the kitchens. You must think I’m quite common.”
Cassius shook his head. “Not at all,” he said. “In fact, I respect the fact that you are unafraid of work, or even fall into a river without becoming a hysterical mess. I’ve never found much use for pampered, fragile women.”
She looked at him in astonishment. “Oh,” she said, off guard by the continuous stream of compliments. “Do… do you know a lot of pampered, fragile women, then?”
He grunted, scratching his head. “I have spent the past three years in London, my lady,” he said. “I have met my share.”
They headed out of the stable, back out into the moonlight, but Dacia was interested in his statement. “I have never been to London,” she said. “It seems to me that it is the center of the entire world.”
Cassius shrugged. “It is a busy city,” he said. “Great castles, great buildings, great cathedrals, great houses.”
“Have you been in any of them?”
“All of them.”
“I meant the great houses.”
He nodded. “Several times,” he said. “Where the king goes, I go, and he is invited to many a feast.”
That seemed to have her curiosity. For the first time, she seemed to be warming to both the conversation and his presence. “And these feasts,” she said. “Are they different from the ones here at Edenthorpe?”
“What do you mean?”
She shook her head. “I am not certain,” she said. “I… I never fostered, you see, and my travel experience is very limited. I have heard that the feasts in the great houses can be quite elaborate and beautiful, with a thousand tapers and dishes shaped like castles. I even heard that sometimes they bury jewels in bread loaves for the guests to find.”
He peered down at her curiously. “You never fostered?”
“Nay.”
