Chapter Seventeen #2
‘What the . . . ?’ Before Ava could answer, Mary had reached the lounge, stopping and doing a double take as she took in the scene before her. Myrtle wagged her tail in an effort to get her attention.
Henry pulled a cushion into his lap.
A look of confusion flicked across Mary’s face before she smiled. ‘Oops sorry!’
Ava was sure the extent of the heat in her cheeks meant they were turning purple.
She pulled the hem of her dress down and pushed her hands through her hair, attempting to regain her equilibrium enough to speak.
Her mind spun as she tried to assimilate what might have been with the situation she now found herself in.
So much for not being caught! Ava looked from Mary to Henry.
He was clearly coping with the turn of events so much better than she was.
While her mind was in chaos, he sat with a bemused grin tugging at his lips — still red from the fact they had been thoroughly kissing her just moments before.
‘Mary this is Hen . . . Lord Henry . . . I mean Bramlington . . . Bramlington Henry . . . Oh Lord! I am making a mess of this!’ Ava buried her head in her hands.
Henry laughed and looked at Mary. ‘Henry. Just Henry is fine. I would normally stand up to shake hands but . . .’
‘Not a good time? I get it.’ Mary giggled before backing slightly out of the room.
‘Oh, God! Let’s go into the kitchen.’ Mortified at the whole situation playing out before her, Ava took Mary by the arm and led her towards the kitchen, glancing over her shoulder and raising her eyes to the ceiling at Henry as she went.
Once away from the chemistry-charged atmosphere of the living room, Ava pulled Mary closer to her, her voice an urgent whisper. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I could ask you the same.’ Mary matched Ava’s tone, wiggling her eyebrows before continuing. ‘And with the newly crowned Lord Hotlington. You bloody dark horse you.’ Mary giggled.
Ava ignored her, deciding now wasn’t the time for explanations about Henry. ‘I live here, what are you doing here?’
Mary pulled the note Ava had scribbled before leaving the shop from her pocket and unfolded it.
‘You never leave the shop during business hours unless I force you to. I popped down to speak to you, read this and thought there must be something wrong. “I won’t be long. It’s a beautiful day for a walk!
” It sounded too cheery. I thought it was a coded message or something. A plea for help, maybe.’
‘What? Why? Nobody does that.’ Ava looked at Mary, deciding it was best not to ask where she might have got such a notion from. ‘Besides, I’m always taking Myrtle for a walk.’
‘Yes! At normal-people-are-still-asleep-o’clock, not two hours before closing — mid sorting stock. It’s not like you. This’ — Mary gestured back towards the lounge — ‘is all so . . . not like you! I mean Ava you were . . . with Lord Hot—’
Henry coughed, making his presence known.
They both spun to see him standing in the doorway, his shirt buttoned, tie and waistcoat back in place, looking unflustered, and in Ava’s opinion, as she noticed his still ruffled hair, thoroughly gorgeous.
Realising she and Mary were both staring at him — gaping like a pair of guppy fish as Flo would put it — Ava broke the silence.
‘Yes . . . Lord Hot—’ She stopped, giving Mary an admonishing look for putting words into her muddled mind that were all too ready to tumble out. ‘Henry and I were about to walk the dog.’ Ava looked at Myrtle as if she might corroborate her words and provide a plausible alibi.
Henry folded his arms, looked at Myrtle and then at Ava. ‘I think she’s pregnant.’
Mary gasped, putting her hand to her mouth, before looking pointedly in Ava’s direction.
Ava put her hand protectively over her definitely not pregnant stomach. ‘Not me! You don’t mean me, do you?’ Instantly wishing she hadn’t added the ridiculous question to her statement when her being pregnant would have required a miracle, Ava cringed.
Henry beckoned Myrtle to him, who obliged happily. ‘I mean this one. I think she’s pregnant. I was going to mention it when you came downstairs but—’
‘You got distracted?’ Mary suggested having clearly found her voice.
Not by what you’re thinking, Ava thought, remembering the phone call Henry received.
Henry stroked along the dog’s abdomen; Myrtle wriggled with excitement at receiving his attention.
‘You said she hadn’t been herself. My guess, seeing her today, and comparing her to the bitches I’ve seen at our kennels, is that she’s pregnant.’
‘Myrtle? How?’ Mary looked at Ava, her expression a mix of shock and confusion.
‘Really? And you’re the animal expert!’ Ava looked from Mary to Henry, her mind still trying to process the information. ‘Has Granger not been done?’
Henry stopped stroking the dog and raised his eyebrows. ‘He’s a stud dog.’
‘Who’s Granger?’ Mary asked.
Ava ignored the question. Her mind was trying to catch up with the possibility that Myrtle could be pregnant. The dogs had often wandered from the path she walked to explore the woods, sometimes being gone for twenty or more minutes. Would they have had time? Wait . . . ‘But he’s retired.’
‘Yes, that makes him old, not incapable.’ Henry stood up.
Mary looked between the two of them. ‘She asks again, who’s Granger?’
Henry walked to the table and touched the top of a chair. ‘Do you mind?’
Ava gestured that it was fine for him to take a seat and turned automatically to put the kettle on.
‘Granger is one of my family’s stud dogs. A chocolate Labrador whose pedigree you can trace back for generations.’ Henry spoke with an amused tone, as he settled himself at the table.
Mary whistled, taking the seat next to him. ‘Go, Myrtle, you minx!’
Ava couldn’t believe that both Mary and Henry seemed to find the prospect amusing.
‘But Myrtle was all grown up when I got her. I’ve never owned one puppy, let alone a whole litter.
’ Ava prepared a tray, with a pot of tea, three cups and matching saucers, a jug of milk and a bowl of sugar and took it to the table.
As she sat and went to speak, Henry’s phone rang. He excused himself to the back garden to answer it. Myrtle followed in close pursuit.
Ava attempted to lean over far enough so that she could peer out of the window without being spotted. But her attempt to fathom any clues as to the nature of the call was scuppered; distracting her, Mary tugged on her arm and drew her in closer.
‘Yes?’ Ava swallowed, she wasn’t sure she was prepared for questions about her and Henry, or that she wanted to share memories of their times in the woods with anyone else, even Mary.
‘Is it the fact Lord Hotlington is here or the prospect of Myrtle being pregnant that has made you decide it’s a teapot and best china occasion?’ With that, she burst into giggles.
Ava looked at the tray and couldn’t help herself, giggling too, at the obscure sight before them; teabag tea made in a mismatch of mugs was their norm.
She couldn’t recall the last time she used her mum’s best china, and yet there it was, sat primly on a tray before them.
‘I have no idea. It seemed like the thing to do.’ As she recovered herself and wiped the tears from her eyes, she looked at Mary.
‘In all seriousness, I am worried. Myrtle is my baby, my only family now. What if anything goes wrong? I can’t imagine what I’d do if—’
Mary reached across the table and took Ava’s hand.
‘You’ve got me, and you’ll see, Myrtle will be fine, and you’ll be fine.
If you have any issues, you’ve got connections to help you — a vet and a team of volunteers all used to caring for animals.
And don’t forget you know more than you think.
You’ve helped or at least seen your mum raise fledgelings, badger and fox cubs, hoglets .
. . and more, I’m sure. Wild or domestic, the pregnancy and birthing thing is not so different. And there’s Gino.’
At the mention of his name and the memory of what his wish had been, and her determination to help him fulfil it, Ava’s cheeks coloured.
‘And I’ll be here,’ Henry interjected.
Ava and Mary turned in unison as Henry walked back towards the table.
‘I won’t walk away from this responsibility. I’ll come to appointments with you, pay for anything you need, and, of course, that includes the vet’s bills.’
Mary’s eyes boggled.
Ava nodded, smiling at Henry. ‘Thank you. I knew we could depend on you.’ In all honesty, Ava hadn’t even got as far as considering any such thing, but Henry seemed to need reassurance that she believed he wouldn’t run away and she was happy to give it to him.
Mary paused, teaspoon hovering above the teapot, as she looked between them, her expression incredulous. ‘You do both know it’s the dog who’s pregnant, don’t you?’
Ava averted her gaze from Henry’s. ‘Of course.’ She attempted to laugh, but even she didn’t recognise the too-light sound that escaped her constricted throat.
Henry coughed, sat down and set about pouring milk into the cups.
Thanking him, Ava thought of the moments before Mary had walked in on them, and wondered if she would have stopped to be careful, or if Henry had come prepared.
He’d said she was the only person who knew him and yet, it occurred to her, that she had no idea what he’d done during his absence from Dapplebury.
It was true there was so much they shared, but undeniably there was also the void of time between them.
Now, at least, Myrtle had given them a reason to spend time together.
Ava could seize her moment, as she originally intended when she’d asked him along for a walk, and get to know the new Lord Bramlington.
And not just in the physical sense — though that prospect remained tantalisingly tempting as she recalled the touch of his hands upon her skin and his firm body beneath hers.
The tea having been poured, Mary raised her cup, her pinky finger at an exaggerated jaunty angle, causing Ava to give her a kick under the table.
Undeterred, Mary said, ‘Pedigrees are all well and good, but they’re not always healthy. Adding in a mix of something new can be a good thing . . . Look at the royal family — even they’ve seen sense.’ She winked at Ava before adding, ‘To your grandpuppies. Unexpected but on the way!’
Ava took a sip of her too-hot tea. ‘Let’s get confirmation from the vet first.’ Feeling grateful that, with all that was whirring through her mind, she had said something sensible, she looked at Henry and added, ‘Let’s definitely not tell your mother about this!’