Page 71 of The Mister I Married

Chapter Nineteen

With one successful dinner party behind her, Emmy was more than eager to host her second and immediately went to work on her list of preparations.

Tess was well on her way to a flock of female friends—this week already she’d taken tea with Miss Plum and visited the village shops with Catherine Stavers. Another two or three dinner parties and she would have a friend for every day of the week.

Perhaps then Emmy could transfer her focus to the young men of the county.

Tess wasn’t exactly champing at the bit to marry, but she did claim to want a husband eventually, so surely there would be no harm in introducing her to Berkshire’s single gentlemen, if only to give her a chance to exercise her flirting muscle.

Emmy had made plans to meet with Lucinda later this week, and she had every intention of asking for her help in starting a list of the area’s most eligible bachelors.

Today, however, she was determined to do nothing but relax. She’d earned a little respite after all her hard work, so when Alex asked her at breakfast if she’d like to join him on his walk with his dogs, she’d said yes.

He’d invited her before, more than once, and she always declined, but today…well, for some reason, today she’d accepted.

It was late morning when they set out, and though the sun shone warmly from its perch in the cloudless sky, the intermittent breeze was a decidedly chilly one. Emmy wrapped her shawl tighter around her shoulders as they walked and watched the dogs tramp through the grass, their noses either on the ground or up in the air.

“Have you always had dogs?” she asked Alex, a smile turning her lips as Gracie chased after a butterfly, barking at it as if trying to make friends, while Prescott—annoying little brother that he was—chased after Gracie.

“Yes, always,” Alex replied with a smile. “Some of my earliest memories are of playing with our dogs. I remember when I was small, I would sit atop Oscar’s back and ride him around the house like a pony.” He glanced at Emmy, his eyes twinkling. “Oscar was a sheepdog and my best friend for years.”

“I wish I’d been there to see that,” Emmy said, chuckling at the adorable image.

Alex stopped and bent down to pick a stick up off the ground then whistled for the dogs, who instantly came running.

“Did you have pets as a child?” he asked her, before tossing the stick far out into the field.

Gracie and Prescott bolted after it, flying across the grass as if their very lives depended on finding that stick.

Chuckling softly, Emmy watched them go, her fingers closing around her shawl as the breeze kicked up again. “No, I never had a pet. My mother tells me my father and brother would often bring injured animals home with them and nurse them back to health, but I have no memory of it.” She shrugged. “Then my father died, and that practice died with him.”

Gracie trotted toward them with the stick clasped in her teeth, looking quite pleased with herself. Prescott followed, eyeing the stick covetously, his tongue hanging out one side of his mouth.

“I suppose animals must have reminded your family too much of your father,” he said before throwing the stick again. As the dogs ran after it, he and Emmy resumed their leisurely stroll.

“Yes, probably,” Emmy said with a nod. She did not remember, and she had never asked. Her father’s absence was still felt deeply by Griffin and her mother, and she did not like to make them sad by asking about him.

“Still, I think I would have enjoyed having a pet,” she said. “A cat, perhaps. My brother recently adopted a kitten, and she is the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen. I think I—” She broke off as one booted foot trod on a fallen branch.

Bending down, she picked up the sturdy oak branch and began using it like a walking stick as they continued their amble through the grass.

“There is no shortage of kittens in the country,” Alex said, picking up the conversation. “If you want a cat, we will get you one.”

She looked at him, anticipation thrumming through her. “You wouldn’t mind?”

“Of course not. I like cats.” He tossed her a wry smile. “And I like you.”

She grinned. “Then I would love to—oof!”

One moment Emmy was firmly on her feet and the next she was on her back on the ground with Prescott peering happily down at her, the makeshift walking stick clenched comically between his teeth.

“Prescott, sit,” Alex ordered, and the dog immediately obeyed, his rump hitting the grass. Gracie wisely did the same.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, grasping Emmy’s hands and helping her to her feet.

“I’m fine. Only a little dirty.” She began swiping at the dirt and grass dotting her skirts.

“I’m sorry,” Alex said, retrieving her shawl and giving it a good shake before draping it around her shoulders. “Prescott sometimes forgets himself.”