Chapter 9 #2
Sir Galahad. The dog had been Jane’s loyal companion since her mother’s death. Often her only companion this past year with Alex in Bath, George in America, and Rose and Phil only making sporadic visits to Kellmore.
“We must have your gamekeeper take the dog to our hound master. If your father discovers him—” Again Isabel let the sentence hang.
Rose dabbed at her eyes. “I had not thought of that. Hurry.”
Isabel followed Rose through the trees to where the Kellmore gamekeeper lived.
Unlike Leadon Hill, the Kellmore keeper doubled as master of the hounds.
Isabel left her horse at the front of the cottage and followed Rose around to the kennels.
The keeper stood at a bench. Sir Galahad lay on his side. The dog whimpered a greeting.
“How is he?” asked Isabel.
The keeper shook his head. “Not good at all, miss.”
“You may take him to Mr. Conroy if you wish. He’ll be safe at Leadon Hill.
” The offer was bold, considering Isabel had not conversed with the master of the hounds for months, as there was no need.
However, she knew that Mr. Conroy was revered throughout the county for his knowledge and care of dogs.
Which is why, at well past sixty, he still worked, although it had been more than a decade since the last fox hunt at Leadon.
The keeper turned slightly to face them better, keeping a hand on Sir Galahad. “He wouldn’t mind?”
“You know he has a fondness for Jane. He will help.”
The man turned back to the dog. “Ye must be the brave knight I know ye are. I’ll give ye a drop for the pain and wrap ye the best I can.”
Minutes later, accompanied by the gamekeeper carrying the dog, Isabel resumed her way home. Rose elected to return to her house to keep her father from coming after them.
Mr. Conroy came out of the Leadon Hill kennels as they approached. Explanations were made.
All the while, Mr. Conroy shook his head. “I am grieved I canna care for the wee dog.”
“What?” Isabel made no attempt to hide her shock.
“Did ye not know your brother sold the hounds? I’m a packing up the last of me things to move to my new position at Pittsfield.”
The words refused to process. Mr. Conroy was leaving? No hounds. Not that she paid them any attention, but for David to sell them all? Pappa had been proud of the bloodlines though he did not hunt often either.
“I did not know.” Isabel looked at Kellmore’s keeper and poor Sir Galahad.
Mr. Conroy stepped forward to inspect the dog. “I donna ‘ave to report until sunset. Let me do what I can for the poor thing.”
Sir Galahad was made comfortable. Mr. Conroy and the gamekeeper talked in hushed tones, their voices grim.
“It’ll be a long, ‘ard recovery if the dog lives through the night. If I could care for him for a fortnight, he might ‘ave a chance. I donna dare start my new position—” Mr. Conroy shook his head again.
“What if I ask Mr. Dalrymple and he allows you to care for Sir Galahad?” asked Isabel.
“Then I’d be ‘appy to help.”
“I’ll be back directly.” Isabel mounted her horse with the gamekeeper’s help. She was halfway to Pittsfield before she allowed thoughts of her fool’s errand to overshadow the desperation she felt for Jane’s dog’s recovery. Would Mr. Dalrymple understand? Would he even speak with her?
Victor’s butler cleared his throat. “Miss Godderidge is here on a matter of some urgency.”
Victor stood. It had barely been two hours since he’d seen her at the ruins. What could have passed in that time? “Is she alone?”
The butler cast a glance at Barlow. “She arrived on horseback with no chaperone.”
What the devil was the woman thinking? Coming unaccompanied to the home of a bachelor, worse yet a home where a notorious rake visited? “Where is she?”
“Outside. She refused to come in.”
Barlow barked a laugh. “Not entirely without sense then.”
“You stay here.” The order was as much for Maximillion, who was curled up under the large desk, as it was for his friend.
“And miss the fun?”
Victor hurried to the entry hall and out the door, well aware that only his dog heeded his command.
Miss Godderidge walked her horse around the drive, cooling the animal down. Victor waved at the groom, indicating he should take the animal.
“Miss Godderidge?”
She looked his way and changed direction to come closer. The groom met her and took the fine animal’s reins. Smoothing her skirts, she stood where she stopped several yards away. “Thank you for allowing me a quick audience.”
“My butler informed it was a matter of some urgency.” Victor walked towards her to better hear her.
“It is to me, though I do not know that you will see it that way. As you know, since he is starting in your employ, Mr. Conroy is especially skilled as a master of the hounds. This morning, Jane Lightwood’s dog was grievously injured.
In an effort to help, I took Sir Galahad—the dog, not the knight—to Mr. Conroy, not knowing that my brother had divested himself of the hounds.
It is Mr. Conroy’s opinion that if Sir Galahad lives through the night, he will need several weeks of care.
Care which he would give if he were staying at Leadon Hill, but is hesitant to impose upon his new employer.
I have come to ask your permission for Sir Galahad to be cared for here, under Mr. Conroy’s care.
I will pay all the expenses incurred. Including compensating you for any time you feel Mr. Conroy has lost with your own hounds.
I would not ask this for myself, but dear Jane is most attached to the little beast. He was born a runt the very week Lady Lightwood passed.
Jane nursed Sir Galahad and trained—” Miss Godderidge gulped back her emotions, apparently unable to continue.
She looked down at the hands that had been constantly in motion during her impassioned plea.
He closed the gap between them to only five feet. “This is Miss Jane’s dog?”
Miss Godderidge nodded.
“Does Kellmore not have a master of the hounds?”
She took a steadying breath. “There is a gamekeeper, who is quite skilled. However, he felt it best if the dog recuperates elsewhere.”
Victor almost said the placating “I see.” However, he did not understand at all. “Does Mr. Conroy concur with the gamekeepers opinion?”
Again she only nodded in answer.
As far as he knew Miss Godderidge wasn’t a woman easily overcome with emotion.
This favor was not easily asked. It wasn’t as if they were even friends.
If she had shown any desire to flirt with him, Victor would have turned her away already.
There was even less of a chance that this was a ruse to insinuate Miss Jane into his life.
Her request could have no other purpose than to help the dog.
Behind him, Barlow shuffled his feet, reminding Victor that he had yet to answer. “Then tell Mr. Conroy he is welcome to take care of the dog here. I will not charge you or Miss Jane for the care as I am sure Mr. Conroy will not shirk his duties in other matters.”
Miss Godderidge looked up for the first time, meeting his eyes. Even from the distance, he could see she held back tears. “Thank you. I will tell Mr. Conroy right away. He promises to be here by sunset as agreed.”
“If he feels it is best not to move the animal, he may wait until morning.”
“His cart was piled high with his belongings. I believe he has emptied his cottage.”
“Then I shall send someone to help him.”
Her eyes widened.
He wished his kindness had not surprised her.
Of course, he may have turned down her request if it had come in another way.
But the fact that she would not benefit from her request and her obvious emotion for the sake of her friend had been enough for him to act in charity as well.
That did not speak well of his character, did it?
“I am not sure how to express my gratitude. Both for myself and Jane.” She paused. “I am afraid I must ask you one more boon. Please do not mention to anyone about Sir Galahad’s presence. Sir Lightwood, I am not sure how to say this—” her hands moved in a helpless manner.
“Sir Lightwood would not want to be indebted to me?” guessed Victor.
“No.” She paused again, biting her lip. Her next words came out as a whisper. “He does not wish the dog to live.”
Victor had not thought it was possible for his opinion of Mr. Lightwood to sink lower. The missing piece to Miss Godderidge’s request had been how the dog was injured to a point close to death. Sir Lightwood had beaten his daughter’s beloved pet.
“I assure you not one word will be whispered by me or my staff.” Victor glanced at the groom holding Miss Godderidge’s horse.
The groom acknowledged him with a barely perceptible nod.
Miss Godderidge curtsied. “Many thanks. I must go tell Mr. Conroy.”
Victor watched the groom assist Miss Godderidge mount via a mounting block.
A strange tension filled his hand, as if it wished to be the one to assist her.
After she rode away, he turned to find Barlow leaning against the column that flanked the doorway, grinning in a particularly annoying way. “Thus falls the mighty Dalrymple.”
“What do you mean?”
“You paid handsomely for Godderidge’s hounds, although I am sure you have no intention of hosting a hunt.
You have bragged about securing the best master of the hounds in four counties, and the first thing you do is allow some chit to talk you into caring for a runt of a dog that has all the appearance of being injured beyond repair.
That, my friend has all the earmarks of your downfall.
You have succumbed to the wiles of a woman. ”
“I ask you, my all-knowing friend, did Miss Godderidge flirt with me?”
Barlow frowned. “No. But she appeared to be nervous.”
“Did either of us give any indication of more than neighborly discussion at the ruins this morning?”
“No.” Barlow led the way back inside.
“Then, Barlow, you, who claim to know everything about women, have failed to understand them at all.” The statement gave Victor a particular satisfaction as Barlow had been charming women since he was old enough to toddle across the nursery floor.
At the library door, Barlow turned to face Victor. “And you, my friend, doth protest too much.”
Victor scowled at Barlow’s back. His friend was wrong. Miss Godderidge had nothing to do with his agreement to her request. Although it was kind of her to look after her friend that way. He would wish for someone to do the same for Maximillion if he were injured.