As Celeste went up the stair to the linen closets, she nearly tripped over Brodie and Bennie, the red and white terriers, as they bolted toward the linen closet. The dogs whined and snuffled at the door until Celeste opened it. Bennie dashed into it the minute the door opened. Celeste scarcely had time to leap back and keep her skirts clear of the large rat that bolted out. Brodie was on it in seconds, giving it a shake that broke its neck.
Brodie then dropped the rat at Celeste’s feet. She and Bennie sat, looking up at Celeste expectantly. Miss Sedgewick came up the stairs with a tall stack of winter linens, and stopped in astonishment as she saw the dogs and the rat. “Mercy sakes!” she exclaimed. “Did they kill that?”
“They did. And now I think they want a reward, but I don’t have anything to give them since I gave them some earlier.”
“Well, now, we can fix that.” Miss Sedgewick brought a well wrapped bundle out of her pocket and offered two dough balls to Celeste. “You should reward them, since they are looking to you as the human on the spot.”
Celeste gingerly accepted the oily bits of fried dough and looked at the pups. Tentatively she offered on to Brodie, who took it daintily in sharp, white teeth. Encouraged by this success, she held out the other one to Bennie who also accepted it carefully, then woofed it down with gusto. They both thumped their tails on the floor, tongues lolling in doggy grins.
Celeste looked at Miss Sedgewick. “Now what? Do we do something with the rat?”
“Pet the dogs,” Miss Sedgewick said. “I’ll deal with the rat. They have done a fine job. I wish we had a terrier that could flush out the human rat who hurt Sally Ann.”
Chapter 27
Margery rode up the steep slope toward her old house. She refused to call it her home, since her father had done his best to make her feel unwelcome. As she rode, she heard the sounds of another horse, and smiled as her lover brought his mount alongside hers.
“They know about the willow,” he said.
“I know,” she replied. “I really don’t care. I am so tired of this subterfuge and sneaking about.”
“Just a little while longer, my love. Then we will have the big castle and the city house all to ourselves. I have it all arranged.”
“You do?” she asked doubtfully. “I’m supposed to be married. How are you going to get around that? And if I am not married, there is no way I can take over the castle.”
“There is one way,” he said. “We must get you with child, and you must convince Jonathan that it is his.”
“I think,” Margery said slowly, “I think that we might have already done that.”
“Truly? I am very glad of that. You will be the one woman who will bear my child. I’ve made certain of that.”
“You are sure that this will work?”
“Absolutely. A child can inherit, and you can stand guardian and caretaker to him”
“He. What if it is a girl?”
“Best hope it isn’t,” her lover said somberly. “My claim is tenuous. I’m fairly certain that I am not the only by-blow begotten by the late Duke. If my kinship is acknowledged, there might be others to step out and lay claim.”
“Are you sure you can prove it, if it comes to that?”
“Of course. My mother has been doing your laundry for years now. And helping me wash out a few other things.” He shrugged. “The dairy maid is forever sterile thanks to her. I learned my first few apothecary mixtures from her.”
“Is she really? What delicious irony. I think she takes on half the male staff. Do you think she is hoping it might reverse?”
“I have no idea what she thinks, nor do I really care. She was a long time ago, and I have moved on.”
“Moved on to me?”
“Of course, my love. Where else would I move on? Come down from there, and let us make sure that you really are making a baby.”
Margery slid from her horse into his arms. He hugged her and kissed her, enjoying the taste of her mouth and her minty, fresh breath.
He then released her, gathered up the reins of the horses, and led them into the shady clearing a little way off the path.
There, he had built a little bower using fallen limbs and lined it with pine boughs and fresh greenery to make it soft. He slipped out of his cloak and mask, then spread the cloak over the springy bed he had created.
“Come to me,” he said. “Of all of them, you are the only one worth keeping. You are forever fresh, forever new.”
