“I am going to name you Dash,” she mumbled, stroking the puppy.
Dash barked again, clearly accepting his name, and that filled Nancy with no small satisfaction.
Her father’s favorite dog had been named Dash. It felt good to have something to remember him by, now that she was so far away from the only home she had ever known and her family as well.
“Come along, Dash,” she prompted with a small smile. “Perhaps we can bribe the cook into giving you something nice to eat.”
Dash eagerly followed her down to the kitchen, his presence promising the start of something wonderful.
* * *
“I did not think you would allow her to keep it, Your Grace,” Ernest commented lightly.
Richard frowned at the papers cluttering his desk, trying to find a document that he needed to review and sign—which he could have sworn that he had just seen moments ago.
It was maddening, how even after a year as the Duke of Wexford, he could barely make heads or tails of it at times. William had always been more efficient than he was, still proving he was better suited for the title than Richard could ever hope to be.
“It will be fine as long as it does not come near me. On that note, hire a dog trainer to ensure that the animal is well-behaved,” Richard instructed.
“That sounds like a fine idea, Your Grace. I will get on it right away.” Ernest nodded, momentarily hesitating. “May I, Your Grace?”
Richard frowned in confusion, looking up at his butler.
Ernest stepped forward and plucked a single sheet of paper from the mess and set it before the Duke, a mere glance telling him that it was the very same one he had been searching for.
“No one in this household expects you to be perfect, Your Grace. Not because we have any doubts about your capabilities, but because we know perfection is rather unrealistic,” he said.
“With all due respect, your brother was not perfect either, but his efforts were what made him remarkable. We see your efforts, and we appreciate them. You are no less than he is, not in our eyes. So, please, I implore you not to try to shoulder it all on your own. We are here to serve you, Your Grace.”
Richard went still, and then he nodded. “I appreciate the thought, but there is much you cannot help me with. None of you can.”
Ernest’s lips parted, but the Duke continued before he could speak.
“The Duchess doesn’t have much to do, so the dog trainer must be found soon to keep her busy.”
And away from me.
Richard then shifted his attention back to his work with an air of finality.
The butler nodded and said quietly, “Of course, Your Grace. I will begin the search for one immediately.”
When Richard did not speak again, Ernest took his leave.
The Duke quickly finished reading through the document and scrawled his signature on the bottom before placing it in a clear corner of his desk where Ernest could easily find it upon his return.
He appreciated his butler’s sentiment, but the man failed to see that Richard was not merely trying to gain the approval of his household. That was far more than their view of him. He needed to do right by his brother, more than anything else.
Richard held no love for the ton, and it did not bother him that they viewed him as a disappointment to his family. Because when William was alive, he was the pride of the Harrington name. Now that the torch had somehow been passed to Richard—lost, unworthy, grieving Richard—he knew that there was much more at stake than his already tainted reputation.
He had to yield results, for William’s sake, because it would be absolutely disheartening for his brother to be slandered while in death. Richard would not stand for that.
That is why he had done all this and was prepared to do much more. If for nothing else, to at least give his brother peace.
* * *
“My goodness, have you seen anything more adorable?” Paula squealed.
Dash tilted his head to the side in the tub, looking far too comfortable amidst the warm water and soap suds.
