Page 44 of The Matrimonial Advertisement

“Beg pardon, sir, but what I thought is that marriage would make your life easier. I didn’t anticipate”—he made a vague gesture—“all of this.”

“Things have never been easy, Boothroyd.”

“No, but…”

“We’ve managed before.”

“Yes, we’ve managed, but…honestly, sir. Her uncle is the Earl of Castleton. He’s no Oswald Bannister.”

Justin’s lips twisted in a brief parody of a smile. “Lucky him.”

Boothroyd opened his mouth to respond. Before he could do so, the library doors opened in a clatter and Neville entered the room. He was in his shirtsleeves, his blond hair wet from the rain and his trousers streaked with mud. He met Justin’s eyes from across the room.

“Justin?”

“What is it now?”

Neville’s face crumpled in distress. “Paul and Jonesy have run off.”

“In this weather?” Boothroyd gave a disapproving cluck. “Damn fool dogs.”

“They chased a rabbit,” Neville said thickly. “Paul ran over the cliff.”

Bloody blasted hell. As if he didn’t have enough to deal with. Justin strode forward to place a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “There are no rabbits at the cliff’s edge, Neville. If the dogs ran out—”

“They ran to the cliffs and Paul leapt over the side. Jonesy’s there, but he won’t come back.”

Justin cast Boothroyd a frustrated glance. “I have to speak with Helena. Can you…?”

“Those dogs don’t obey me,” Boothroyd said. “Where’s Danvers, Neville? Can’t he assist you?”

Neville ignored Boothroyd. Or perhaps he simply didn’t hear him. He was becoming increasingly distressed. “It’s Paul, Justin. You have to come.”

Justin hesitated for a moment. And then, with a sigh of resignation, he squeezed Neville’s shoulder. “Yes. Of course, I’ll come. Let me fetch a lantern.”

The sun set early this time of year. It wasn’t much past five and already dark. Even with their lanterns held aloft, Justin could scarcely see anything through the driving rain. It didn’t help that both dogs were black as pitch.

“Paul!” Neville shouted. He waved his lantern in front of him as he walked. “Paul!”

Justin had insisted Neville put on his hat, coat, and gloves. Not that his own were doing him much good. What use was a hat when the rain was falling sideways? He raised his lantern higher. “Jonesy!” he called. “Here, Jonesy!”

The wind whistled over the cliffs. They were closer to the edge now. “Have a care, Neville,” Justin said.

“He was here, Justin.” Neville trotted ahead, heedless of the danger. “Down here.”

With a muttered curse, Justin charged after him, half-slipping in the mud. Damnation, but he couldn’t see a blasted thing! Confound those dogs. For all he knew they were already back at the Abbey, curled up in front of a fire.

“Paul!” Neville cried. “Paul!” He stepped forward blindly.

Justin reached out in the nick of time, seizing him by the back of his coat and hauling him backward, away from the cliff’s edge. Neville’s feet slid out from under him. He fell with an undignified splat onto his rear end.

“He was there, Justin! That’s where I saw him!”

Justin peered into the darkness. In the halo of light cast from their lamps, he could see the jagged edge of the cliffs. It was a particularly dangerous spot. A person who wasn’t paying attention could easily lose their footing. He wouldn’t have thought a dog would be in danger. Then again, Paul was still young and over-exuberant. For all Justin knew, he might have chased a shadow down over the side.

“Stay here, Neville,” he commanded.

Neville nodded his assent. “I won’t move.”