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“Yes,” the Dowager replied. “I have not seen him since early afternoon.”
Rhys frowned. He could not allow anything to happen to Brutus. Elizabeth would kill him. “Please find him,” he said to Smith. He turned to his grandmother after the butler had left. “I will attempt to return him to Lady Elizabeth once he is found.”
“But he has decided to stay with us.” The Dowager adjusted her shawl about her shoulders.
“His reluctance to leave is not a decision to stay, Grandmother. I would advise you to not get too attached to him.” He started walking toward the door.
“Well, I cannot help it. The dog has captured my heart, unlike his owner.”
Rhys paused. Something in his grandmother’s tone told him she did not like Elizabeth, but it did not surprise him. He left without responding. He was greeted by a torn piece of fabric when he entered his sitting room. It lay a few feet from the door, and several pieces of torn fabric were strewn about, leading into his bedchamber. Rhys cursed and followed the trail.
Brutus was curled atop his bed and asleep, and one of Rhys’ coats was on the bed with a sleeve torn off. Rhys strode to his dressing room to see the extent of what the dog had done. His clothes were everywhere, some torn and some rumpled. His coats suffered the most.
He pinched the bridge of his nose. He was not angry with Brutus, but he was not pleased either.
“My God!” he heard his valet, Chaplin, swear from the sitting room. He must have seen the first piece of tattered shirt. He continued to swear as he followed the trail, and when he arrived at the dressing room, he yelled, “Devil be damned!” His face contorted, and he looked as if he would cry. “My Lord, these are the new garments that arrived just this morning from the tailor.” He pointed at the open boxes where the clothes had been.
“I see,” Rhys muttered, bending to pick up a chewed Hessian boot.
“Oh, I cannot believe Brutus would do this! I left him an hour ago to mail the letters you gave me, My Lord. I should not have! Forgive me!”
Rhys almost laughed at Chaplin’s hysterics. “Do not blame yourself for this, Chaplin,” he reassured as he set the boot down and picked up another coat that had its lining exposed. “Such sharp teeth he has.”
“I cannot believe the ruin!” Chaplin began to gather the torn clothes.
“Do not give yourself apoplexy.” Rhys chuckled now. “Do I have what I need to wear to dinner tonight?”
“I believe you do, My Lord,” Chaplin said after looking into the wardrobe. “And you have clothes for tomorrow as well.”
“Then do not worry. See the tailor and order new ones. Do I need my measurements taken?”
“I have your measurements, My Lord.”
“Good.” Rhys walked out of the dressing room to find Brutus yawning and stretching on his bed. “I hope you are happy.” Brutus’ eyes drooped before he buried his face between his stretched paws. “Ashamed? As well you should be.”
“My Lord,” Chaplin said from the dressing room doorway with a heap of clothes in his arms. “What do you intend to do about him?”
“I will return him after dinner,” Rhys replied, looking back at Brutus. Perhaps he was imagining it, but the dog looked positively contrite. He was tempted to allow him to stay.
* * *
“You will not do this to me again, My Lady,” Stella complained as she styled Elizabeth’s hair for dinner.
“I am sorry, Stella,” Elizabeth muttered with an apologetic smile.
Elizabeth had met Stella on her way out of the building after leaving Rhys, and they had returned home together. Stella had not gotten the chance to complain until now because Elizabeth had been very quiet on the ride home. She had never in her entire life felt the great guilt she now felt after allowing Rhys to touch her. It must never happen again.
“I will endeavor to take you with me next time,” she continued, and Stella continued to frown as she looked at Elizabeth through the mirror.
“Your parents would have held me accountable if something had happened to you.”
Elizabeth shook her head without meaning to as Stella rolled a curl, and it came undone. Stella huffed then chuckled. “Sorry,” Elizabeth said before pointing out, “They would not hold you accountable for anything. You were not there.”
“Please, do not do it again,” Stella sighed.
“I won’t. I promise.”
Stella smiled. “That brings me some relief.” She tilted her head contemplatively. “What happened today?”
