Page 110 of All For You

Knightley released Oodles as we’d planned, and Lizzy’s pup padded up to me as I’d trained him to do. I checked around Oodles’s neck. Yep, still there. Hanging from his collar was the tiny satin bag I’d secured while Lizzy was upstairs.

Oodles was doing brilliantly, and Lizzy was beaming with pride, now looking pretty sure of his role in this evening.

Max was lingering behind Oodles, wanting to get in on the action too.

Then Oodles’s ears went up. He halted.

A rustle sounded from through the open kitchen door.

Lizzy

My throat burned with the effort not to cry. My heart softened at the sight of Darcy on one knee. I loved him so much. I wanted nothing more than to be his wife. But the second I opened my mouth to sayyes, more rustling sounded from the hallway.

A bang.

Then asmash.

Like someone had toppled that huge blue vase on the hallway table. Shit. Who was out there?

The crowd went restless.

Bleating rose in a frantic chorus.The unmistakable sound of hooves—many hooves—tapped on the old stone floor. With a triumphant snort, in galloped Goatee. Then Lary the llama. The two pigs followed, smiling as usual, but looking even more delighted with themselves. A flock of ducks waddled behind them, wings flapping, feathers literally flying.

Darcy leaped to his feet. “What the hell?”

How on earth had the animals gotten in? We’d closed the door behind us. Didn’t matter now; we had to herd them out of the house—they were all muddy.

Max and Oodles went wild, barking and racing around the animals.

“Out! Out! Out!” everyone cried, arms windmilling, no one quite knowing what to do.

Knightley zeroed in on the llama. He must have known the llama was the ultimate leader. Mum, always terrible in a crisis, ran in circles. The Balfours, even worse in a crisis, ran in opposite circles. Guests scattered, trying to protect their clothes from the animals and their muddy hooves.

Darcy cried out, “Oodles has the ring.”

Oh no! I lunged for Oodles, who, of course, pounced away. Both Darcy and I set off, chasing around the kitchen after my excited pup, crashing into each other, as Oodles leaped this way and that. Max joined in, in an enthusiastic, ankle-twisting game of chase.

Suddenly spotting the obvious getaway route, Oodles raced through the open kitchen door. Max followed close behind him, Darcy behind the dogs, me trailing in an awkward dash.

Darcy and I sprinted after the dogs speeding up the driveway, yelling out to them. But the dogs were fired up and flying. I stumbled on the gravel. Shit. I couldn’t run in this dress. How did women ever doanythingin these dresses? The cut wasn’t tight, but it did have a narrow hemline, so there was no leaping or sprinting or even striding.

It didn’t help that the neckline was low, and my boobs were bouncing all over the place. Bloody painful. I hiked up my dress with one hand, held my boobs with an arm across my chest, and stepped up the pace. Interesting that I’d never considered this in my books, and it felt like someone from the past was paying me back for my omission.

The dogs headed for the far pasture. The fence. A roadblock. Good.

Except Oodles dived under the fence, belly-slithering through the middle part, always the bad influence. Max followed. But there wasn’t enough room for humans to get under.

Darcy reached the fence first. He scrambled up. He tried to hoist his leg over the fence. Tried again. Clearly, his stretchy pants were hitting their limit. He tugged at his ruffly sleeve. The fabric was caught on the fence.

Swearing, he tugged harder.Riiip.

I winced at the damage to his clothing, but he didn’t pause. He pulled off his jacket, threw it over the fence, and pushed the sleeves up his arms.

Why didn’t the Balfours have a gate on this side? It made no sense.

I caught up, puffing, my chest burning.

“Shit,” I said, breathless. “I’m never going to get over that fence in this dress.”