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“Good,” she said, giving each dog a tiny bit of meat. “Good dogs.” She led them around the barn. “You will live here,” she added, showing them the front stall.
The tramp of footsteps on a narrow stair in the corner heralded the entry of her manservant. Foyle was his name, Daniel remembered. The old fellow glowered at him.
“These are Jip and Jum,” said Miss Pendleton. “Our new watchdogs and chasers of goats.”
Foyle came over and crouched with more agility than his craggy face predicted. He held out his hands. The dogs sniffed and licked them, wriggling with delight when he ran his fingers over their sides. The man couldn’t be as grim as he liked to appear, Daniel thought, if dogs liked him so readily.
“Good bones,” said Foyle.
“Do we have a bit of rope?” asked Miss Pendleton.
Foyle found some, and she made improvised leashes for the two dogs. Then she led them out of the barn. Impressed and increasingly fascinated, Daniel went with her. She didn’t dismiss him.
She walked the hounds down the lane to the side of the Rose Cottage property and then along the northern edge. She knew the boundaries to an inch, Daniel noticed. He admired the precision and resented it just a little, reminded of the enigma of his father’s legacy. When either dog showed an impulse to mark a tree or stone, she stopped and allowed it. “I’m encouraging them to learn their territory,” she said after a while.
“I know.” Did she think he hadn’t noticed or didn’t understand? “You’re good with them.”
“We always had dogs,” Miss Pendleton replied. Her tone had gone nostalgic.
“Which is the first you remember?”
“My mother’s lapdog, I suppose. Though it’s more what I’ve been told than a real memory. They say Pug stood guard over my cradle and scarcely let the nursemaid near me.” She blinked and looked self-conscious, as if sorry she’d revealed any detail of her past.
Daniel spoke before she could withdraw further. “My earliest friend was an outsized dog named Stranger.”
“Stranger?”
“Because he was one. No one knows, to this day, where he came from. I found him when I was out walking with Nanny and dragged him up to the nursery. Even though he was twice my weight. And covered in mud.” Daniel smiled, remembering. “I was positively foul to everybody until they agreed I could keep him.”
“Your parents didn’t want you to?”
“Oh, they weren’t around. My parents were great travelers. They were always off on some trip or other.” He pushed quickly past this admission. “I had to convince Nanny and the housekeeper, which was not easy, I must tell you. Stranger had teeth as long as my hand. The cook thought he was a wolf.”
“You were how old?”
“Four or five. Somewhere in between.”
“He doesn’t sound like a pet for a child.”
Daniel shook his head. “Stranger had the sweetest temper in the world. He’d hold my fingers in his mouth and never think of biting down. He pulled me out of a slough once.” They reached the back boundary of the property and turned, pausing for the dogs to examine and mark a tall oak. “Best friend I ever had,” Daniel added.
“The best?”
He supposed it sounded odd. “There weren’t many other children about the place.”
“You must have made friends at school.”
He shrugged and nodded. “Stranger never understood about school. Always thought he should come with me. In his last days, he hung on till I came home for the holidays before he…went.” Daniel’s throat thickened. Why had he told her that? This story had been meant as a diversion, not exposure. He gave his companion a sidelong glance. Miss Pendleton drew confidences like no one he’d ever met before. How did she do that?
“It’s so hard when a beloved animal dies,” she replied. “And they seem to feel the same. My father’s old spaniel pined for months after he died, and then just lay down one day and never got up again. Philip said—” She broke off, biting her lower lip.
Her brother was definitely a sore subject. The way she avoided speaking of him didn’t seem like simple mourning. Daniel couldn’t puzzle out her tone. He wanted to ask. He wanted to know more about her. But he knew she didn’t wish to tell him. A familiar sting of annoyance made Daniel pull back. He’d had more than enough of people who insisted upon remaining distant, in every sense of the word.
“How many dogs do you have at Frithgerd now?” asked Miss Pendleton in a more reserved tone.
Daniel matched it. “Just four. Two who are good for hunting rabbits. And two who hang about the stables.” He hadn’t had a really close bond with a dog since Stranger, Daniel realized. They turned up the other side of the Rose Cottage land, heading back toward the lane.
“You don’t keep a foxhunting pack?”
