A Duke’s Overlooked Spinster (The Courting Season #1)

Chapter 16

“Hush, now...It is all well, little fellow! Will you hold still a moment? There you are,” Sarah said with a chuckle. She placed a bowl of milk down in front of the excited puppy, who wagged his tail and stepped in the bowl, almost upending it. Sarah let out a delighted laugh, making him look up at her, startled.

“Shh,” she said gently. “It’s all well. Look. You’re meant to eat it,” she said gently, dabbing her finger in the milk to show him what it was.

The tiny puppy needed no further encouragement—no sooner had she directed his attention to it, then he bent down and started to lap the milk. His usually active form became still with acute concentration and Sarah stared in wonder. He seemed to grow when he ate; his little belly expanding as he lapped the food in.

“Look at you,” she breathed in delight.

“Miss! Miss!”

The door burst open and Sarah let out a gasp, then chuckled in delight as Henry cannoned into the room. It was nine o’ clock in the morning, but Sarah had risen and dressed hours before, since the puppy’s whimpers had alerted her that he might need to relieve himself. He had slept on her bed that night after a thorough wash in warm water from the kitchen and, to her surprise, he seemed to accept his surroundings with the same surprising tranquility with which he had accepted Henry’s help.

“Miss!” Henry repeated, running over to her. The puppy looked up, startled, then saw Henry and ran to him, whimpering in delight as Henry bent down and started to pat him. “Good morning. Easy, now,” Henry murmured, soothing the excited puppy.

“Henry!” Sarah said with a grin. “Are you supposed to be here?”

“Mrs. Wellman is having tea—she and the housekeeper always have tea together now,” Henry said with a shy glance at her. “Don’t tell her?”

“I would not think to do so,” Sarah said with a smile. “As far as I know, you are here with her blessing. Look at him! He likes you.” She watched as the puppy clambered onto Henry’s knee and tried to lick his face.

“He’s so sweet,” Henry said with a chuckle, then let out a shriek of delight as the puppy landed a wet lick on his nose. Henry tumbled backwards with the puppy on his chest, both of them flopping in a heap on the mat. The little boy was laughing.

As soon as Sarah heard the sound of happy laughter from Henry and saw how the puppy was delightedly licking him all over, she laughed too.

“Look at him! He likes you so much.”

“Is he a boy?” Henry asked with a confused look. “I think he’s a boy.”

Sarah, who had checked when she washed him, nodded. “He’s a boy,” she confirmed. She tilted her head thoughtfully. “He does need a name.”

“Yes! What’s his name?” Henry asked her.

“How about “Patches”, for the patches of brown on his fur?” Sarah suggested swiftly. He had two brown blotches—one near his right ear, the other on his side.

Henry crinkled his nose. “Can we call him something else?” he asked after considering.

“Of course,” Sarah agreed, tilting her head to one side. “How about “Flopsy”, since his ears flop?”

“I don’t like it,” Henry said. “It’s a bit girlish for a boy,” he added shyly.

Sarah chuckled. “Can you think of something?” she asked.

Henry sat and studied the dog, as if waiting for a name to make itself known.

“He has little black eyes like buttons,” Henry said after a long moment. “I like his eyes and how they sparkle.”

“Buttons!” Sarah repeated, enthused.

The little dog sat up as if he had heard her, and Sarah chuckled.

“That settles the matter. He likes it,” she said.

“I think so,” Henry agreed. He ruffled the little dog’s ears. “Are you Buttons?” he asked the puppy. The little creature tilted his head as if he was listening, and Sarah chuckled.

“I think he likes it,” Henry said solemnly.

“Buttons!” Sarah called the puppy. “We have to teach him his name. Buttons! Here is some milk,” she added, patting the edge of the bowl again.

Buttons’ little head whipped round in her direction, and he bounded over, but as soon as Henry stood up from where he had crouched on the mat, the little dog bounded towards him instead. Sarah laughed.

“He wants to play with you more than he wants milk,” she said with a grin. Another thought occurred to her. “Mayhap we should take him outside. He might need to, um...relieve himself.” She flushed.

“Yes! Then we can play! I want to play, too,” Henry declared, already running to the door.

Sarah tugged on her ankle-length outdoor boots, then looked for her shawl, but when it was not immediately obvious where it was, Sarah shrugged and went swiftly to the door. She wanted to get outdoors to play almost as much as Henry and the puppy did.

Henry and Buttons were already there, Buttons running in circles around Henry, jumping up to place his little paws on Henry’s leg.

“Off we go!” Sarah said with a cheerful laugh. She opened the door and Buttons and Henry exploded into the upper hallway.

“He cannot go down the stairs without help,” Sarah explained to Henry, who was running down the stairs, then paused as he saw the little dog sitting at the top with a frightened expression on his little face. Sarah bent down and picked him up—he fitted neatly in the crook of her arm; around half the size of a cat. Then she walked down the stairs to open the door for Henry, who was at the entrance, jumping with impatience.

As soon as Buttons’ paws were on the front path he exploded into action, racing after Henry, his front paws moving together like a rabbit in a playful canter. Sarah shrieked with laughter as the boy and the puppy raced around on the lawn.

“Faster, Henry!” she encouraged the boy. “He’s so quick!”

The little puppy bounded after Henry, who was laughing in delight. Sarah watched them play. Henry was naturally attentive and as soon as she saw Buttons tiring, she called to him.

“Slow down, young man. Buttons needs a rest.”

“Yes, Miss Brooke,” he replied and stopped at once, stooping down beside Buttons who tried to climb onto the boy’s knee to lick his face. Sarah leaned against a tree, worn out by the excitement. Before long, Buttons and Henry were racing around again.

“Throw a stick for him, Henry,” Sarah suggested, retrieving a twig a little longer than her index finger and about as thick from where it lay by her feet. “Perhaps he’d like to fetch it.”

“Yes!” Henry yelled, and took the stick, throwing it perhaps three yards for Buttons. The little puppy needed no prompting and raced off after it. He picked it up in his mouth and cantered around the lawn. Henry laughed and grabbed the stick, the two tussling playfully over it. Once he had retrieved it from Buttons, he threw it again.

“Go, Buttons!” Sarah called, delighted to see the little puppy having such a good time. Buttons raced off, and as he did so, two figures appeared on the path.

“Buttons!” Henry called, racing after the little dog, his voice high-pitched with concern. The two women on the path froze. Sarah recognized them instantly—the duchess, Robert’s mother, and Lady Marina. They were taking their morning walk about the grounds. She lifted her skirt and started to run.

Buttons, heedless of the women’s horror-struck faces, had run to Marina, lifting his paws up—which were muddy from playing on the lawn—and placing them on the hem of her skirt. Marina let out a piercing yell, as though she was being stung by bees.

“Help! Get it away! It’s ruined my dress!”

Sarah had reached the two women. She tensed as the duchess rounded on her. She looked angry, about to offer some stinging rebuke. Sarah rooted to the spot, unsure of what to do or how to react, when she heard footsteps crunch on the gravel.

“What on earth,” the duke said quietly, addressing his mother and Marina, “is happening?”