“As I recall,” Grey said, “you used to hate them.”
Gwyn rose to glare at her brother. “That was a long time ago. Before you left home, I did indeed hate them . . . but only because they terrified me. What did you expect? I wassix.But then I grew up and Mama got Snuggles, and my entire opinion of dogs changed.”
“What sort of dog was Snuggles?” Beatrice asked, determined to shift the conversation away from Grey’s absurd overprotectiveness.
Gwyn turned to her with a warm smile that transformed her face. “He was the sweetest little pug you’ve ever seen, Bea. You would have loved him. It nearly broke my heart to leave him behind in Berlin, but he was getting too old to survive the trip. Fortunately, Mama says we can find another pug for me in London next time we go.”
“Let’s hope you don’t name that one ‘Snuggles,’ too,” Joshua muttered.
“I’ll second that thought,” Grey said.
Gwyn laughed. “You men! Mama was the one to name our pug, actually.Iwanted to name him Pugsy.”
The two men groaned.
“The poor lad probably wanted to crawl under a chair with mortification every time he was around his fellows,” Grey told Joshua. “‘Snuggles,’ indeed.”
“And Pugsy?” Joshua snorted. “You might as well hang a lace ruff around his neck. A male dog should be named something manly, like these two lads—Mercury and Zeus.”
“Ah,” Grey said. “I take it you’re the one with the penchant for the classics?”
“I named every dog in that kennel. If I’d allowed it, Beatrice would have named them all Sunny and Brilliant and Elegant.”
“I never chose any such names!” Beatrice protested.
“And what’s wrong with them, anyway?” Gwyn asked, warming Beatrice’s heart by standing up for her. “Those names sound very sweet.”
“The dogs are foxhounds, not pugs,” Joshua said. “Their purpose is to hunt. They shouldn’t have ‘sweet’ names.”
Beatrice gazed coldly at her brother. “Well, who names a dog Mercury and Zeus? Dogs aren’t characters in a Homeric odyssey, for pity’s sake!”
The man actually blinked. “And what do you know about Homeric odysseys?”
Beatrice sniffed. “Icanread, you know. I merely choose to read different things than you. And just for that, you can walk both dogs. Perhaps you’ll get lucky and they’ll do their manly business on your boots! Grey and Gwyn and I will meet you at the ruins.” She lifted her skirts. “Come on, you two. Let’s leave my brother to his foxhounds.”
“You go on with Grey.” Gwyn cast a furtive glance at Joshua. “I’ll keep your brother company.”
“Suit yourself,” Beatrice said. “Though I hope you don’t end up throttling him for being abloody arsebefore you get there.”
And with that wholly unladylike remark, she marched off down the drive toward the path through the gardens that led to the ruins.
Grey headed after her. As soon he’d caught up to her and they were out of earshot, he asked, “What was that about?”
No point in hiding the truth. “My brother infuriates me. Gwyn was being nice, and he still couldn’t resist poking holes in her enthusiasm. He does the same to me, all the time. Him and hismanlynames. They’redogs.They don’t care what they’re called.”
“You’re certainly taking this dog-naming business seriously.”
“The dogs are just part of what has put me in a temper.” She was more angry about all the sacrifices she’d made for Joshua, all the secrets she’d kept. And for what? He didn’t seem to care whether he got hanged for murder. And she began to wonder whyshecared.
Except that she couldn’t help caring. It had been just the two of them looking after each other ever since he’d come back from the war. It annoyed her that he couldn’t see how much that mattered to her.
I know you don’t believe it sometimes, duckie, but nothing is more important to me than your future.
She sighed. Clearly it mattered to him, too. Which made her only more determined to protect him, even if he wouldn’t protect himself.
“Walk faster, will you?” she muttered to Grey.
“Whatever you wish, minx. Why are we in such a hurry, anyway?”
