She didn’t want to be harsh, but her sister’s tendency to romanticize everything, even her marriage of convenience, was starting to grate on her nerves.
“The Duke is simply doing his duty—don’t get carried away.”
Her mother shot her a questioning look, but Violet looked away. She didn’t want to deal with answering her questions about the state of her marriage. She just wanted to focus on keeping all of them safe.
James’s duchy was large, and by the time they arrived at their destination, a small town near the northwest border, it was evening, and Violet was very tired and ready for a hot bath. However, the carriage door had just swung open when the barking of what sounded like twenty rabid dogs filled the air. Seconds later, several snouts appeared in the opening, as if half a dozen dogs were trying to push their way inside.
“Down!” Violet heard the footmen shouting. “Get down!”
“Oh my goodness!” Lady Carfield cried, scooting as far back as she could on the bench. “They’ve sent rabid dogs after us already!”
Rosalie yelped in fear and also scooted back on the bench, her eyes wide with fear.
Violet also felt fear seize her chest.
Are these the dogs they use to fight? Are they tearing at the footmen right now? And what about my husband? Are they attacking him as they speak?
After all, James had said that there were a number of people who had a vendetta against him. Was it possible that one of the gang members involved in the dog fights had set the dogs on them as a warning?
The thought of James being harmed sent a violent tremor through Violet, and without thinking, she sprang forward andwrenched open the door. She had no idea what she was going to do. It wasn’t like she was going to save her husband from a pack of rabid dogs, but her instincts were still screaming at her to protect him.
But when she pushed open the door of the carriage, she found James and the footmen patting the heads of a small pack of mangy dogs, whose tongues were lolling out and whose tails were wagging with pleasure.
“Here, I’ve got some treats for them!” her husband said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out several biscuits. He fed them to the closest dog and then rubbed its snout. “Good boy,” he said, grinning in delight.
It was hard for Violet not to grin as well.
They were outside an inn on the outskirts of what appeared to be a village, and there were at least two dozen dogs around them, all of whom looked the worse for wear. Some of them were limping, a few were missing legs or parts of their tails, and many had chunks missing from their ears. Their furs were patchy, and they were skinnier than Violet would have liked. But they were all, without a doubt, sweet.
Even the ones who were leaping up onto the carriages and the footmen’s laps were doing so with big, happy smiles on their faces, drool falling from their mouths. It made Violet’s heart ache to see them. Despite the hardships they had experienced, these dogs were still kind, affectionate, and eager for love.
I wonder if I could be like that.
The thought was sudden and unbidden. She immediately pushed it away. Love was not something she had ever hoped for, and being eager for it would only render her vulnerable to pain and humiliation.
Her eyes flickered to her husband, and she watched as one of the dogs jumped up on him and barked lovingly. He began to play with it, chasing it around the carriage, laughing in an unrestrained way that she had never heard before. It made her heart clench to see him like that.
Although he often made jokes and laughed when he teased her, it wasn’t like this. This was the laughter of someone truly enjoying himself, not just someone who was trying to come across as carefree. And she wondered, watching him, how lonely it must be to always wear a mask.
After several minutes of playing with the dogs, James joined her by the carriage. The footmen had already started taking down the trunks and carrying them into the inn, and Rosalie and Lady Carfield had gone inside with them, eager to avoid the dogs, even though they were friendly. Rosalie, especially, was not an animal person.
“How do you know these dogs?” Violet asked as James came to stand next to her. “They’re strays, aren’t they?”
“They’re strays of a sort,” James admitted. “They belong to the village, and the townspeople take care of them. These are the dogs that used to be part of the dog fights.”
Violet shouldn’t have been surprised. Considering how many injuries they had, it was clear the dogs had been in some violent tussles. But she had assumed that after the dog fights, the gang members had gotten rid of the evidence. Although she didn’t like to think about what exactly that entailed.
“My father’s criminal enterprises have always been a well-known secret among the ton,” James explained. “The most profitable, and the one that the ton most often overlooked, was dog fighting. The fights were popular, and many of the lords used to wager on them, which is why he was never shunned for allowing such a gruesome activity to take place in his duchy. When I was still the heir, there wasn’t much I could do to stop him. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t interfere with my father’s businesses. The one thing I could do was try and rescue as many of the dogs as I could.”
One of the dogs walked over, and James scratched behind its ear absentmindedly. “The ones that weren’t drowned or shot—the ones that were sure to die of their injuries anyway—were left out in an alleyway behind one of the more popular rings. I would rescue them, along with the men I hired to help me. There was a kindly veterinarian who rehabilitated my father’s horses, so I would take the dogs to him and he would heal them.
“After that, I’d try to find homes for them. The ones with fewer injuries were easier to place. These”—he gestured to the dogsaround them—“were the unwanted ones. This village, which is just outside the jurisdiction of the gang, agreed to watch over them. The townsfolk feed them, and the priest lets them sleep in the church in the winter when it’s very cold.”
Violet felt so many emotions that at first, she didn’t know what to say. A very strong part of her felt so angry at the thought of the dogs being forced to fight that she wished she could scream at the men who had done this to them—especially her husband’s late father, whom she was now very glad she had never met.
But her anger was also tempered by the deep pride and admiration she felt for her husband, that he would defy his father and put himself in harm’s way to rescue the dogs.
“You like to protect vulnerable creatures, don’t you?” she asked after a moment. “I was unsure, at first, why you were so quick to protect me and Rosalie. But now I see—it’s in your nature. It’s what you’ve been doing your whole life.”
