Chapter 9 #2
He stares for a moment, then shrugs. Kneeling down, he offers his hand to Lillian. She sniffs it, and promptly lies down on the ground, exposing her belly. “Your dog is just being a dog. My next stop is my flat. I’ll just change when I get home.”
I release a breath.
“What’s her name?” He glances up between belly scratches.
“Lillian.”
“Cheers, Miss Lillian. I’m Art. It’s nice to meet you.”
I watch as my hyper spaniel totally relaxes as if she’s bewitched by Art. He seems to know exactly all the right places to scratch. Who knew he was such a dog charmer!
That’s when I remember and slap my palm on my forehead, covering it in clay. “I forgot. I did ask for someone. I’d planned to take Lillian for a walk after dinner.”
Art uprights himself, brushing his hands off on his trousers. “Is that what you still plan to do?”
Lillian’s tail wags rapidly. She’s stirred up by her new friend. If I have any hope of going to bed early tonight, a walk is a must. “Only if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t.”
“I just need to change. Give me a few minutes.”
“Take your time, ma’am. I’ll be here with Miss Lillian.”
With the speed of an Olympic sprinter, I scrub my face and throw on my jeans and a shirt.
Outside, humidity lingers in the air, making it one of the rare times during the British summer that it’s still warm enough to go out without a jacket.
Lillian tugs on her lead and heads directly for her favorite bush to mark near the car park.
“I didn’t think you’d still be here,” I tell Art. “I thought you and Angela would’ve headed home a while ago. You put in a full day.”
“I was finishing the report on today’s outing.” He slides his hands into his pockets. “Angela left an hour ago.”
“Why’d you come up instead of sending one of the evening security officers?”
“The lads were just clocking in. I offered so they didn’t have to rush.”
“Of course. That makes sense.” I don’t know the exact procedures, but off the top of my head, I know they have to sign out their equipment and receive a briefing.
“I could ask you a similar question, ma’am. Don’t you have a member of staff who tends to your dog?”
“I do, but whenever I’ve been out all day, I like to try and spend at least a little time with her.”
Lillian signals she’s ready to keep going, finished with the roses. Art and I resume our walk around the courtyard.
“You’re a good owner.”
“Thank you.” My body warms at his compliment. “Sometimes it doesn’t feel like it, since I was gone for a few months, but I’d like to think I’m at least responsible.”
“Don’t worry. You are, I can tell. How old is she?”
“About four and a half years. I’ve had her since she was a puppy. Her mum is my parents’ dog.”
Art nods. I’m tempted to ask him if he has any pets, but that might be a little too personal for him, and I doubt he’d tell me much. I wrack my brain and try and come up with a few safe, neutral topics we can discuss, but I draw a blank.
Luckily, he chooses that moment to speak. “I always wanted a dog growing up, but my parents didn’t think my younger brother, or I were responsible enough. So the only pets we kept were fish.”
I bite back a gasp of surprise. This is one of the first pieces of personal information Art’s shared with me.
It feels like it’s a watershed moment in our relationship, but I’m likely reading way too much into this.
Pets have a way of helping people relax.
And since Art’s going home right after this, he probably doesn’t realize he’s letting his guard down.
“What kind of dog would you have gotten, given a choice?”
Lillian stops and elects to do her business on a bed of newly planted flowers. The gardeners will be none too pleased when they see the state of it in the morning. With any luck, they’ll think it was a squirrel, fox, or some other wild animal.
“Hmm . . . I don’t know.” He strokes his chin. “I’ve never given it too much thought. I’ll have to get back to you on it. For now, let’s say a rescue dog. There’re never enough comfortable homes to go around for them.”
I agree with him wholeheartedly. The longer I speak with him, the more pieces of the puzzle come together.
Art is not the man I thought he was. Outwardly, he may be a protection officer who plays strictly by the rules, but inwardly, I’m finding him to be a softie.
At least, that’s my latest theory. There are still many layers to uncover.
After I clean up Lillian’s mess, we walk in comfortable silence along the side path that runs parallel to Green Park. Beyond the iron gate, I spy the silhouettes of a few people strolling through.
“It seems busier than normal,” I muse.
“The summer concert series begins tonight in Hyde Park. I think it started at eight.”
“Any idea who the headliners are?” I joke.
“The briefing book mentioned Coldplay, but I skimmed over the other acts.” He stops walking and freezes. His eyes widen and his breathing quickens. “You, er . . . didn’t want to go, did you?”
It’s almost as if he’s panicked about it. Why would he be? I shake my head. “No. There’re too many people and I have an early day tomorrow. I work six to three at the Kensington Stables.”
A look of relief passes over his face.
“If you’re interested in going, we can head back now. I’ve kept you long enough.”
He shakes his head. “Thank you, ma’am, but no. I’m like you. I don’t enjoy places with too many people.”
I wonder if it’s because of his experiences as a police officer, because he’s antisocial, or a combination of the two. He doesn’t volunteer any more information. I decide not to probe.
Turning tail, we head back for the palace. Lillian’s pace is slowing. She’s ready for her last meal of the day and bed. Just like me. I cover a yawn with my hand.
Art walks me to the palace’s main doors. “Good evening, ma’am. Arthur.” Bill, one of the night guards waves to us.
“Cheers, Bill,” I say. “Is it you and Killian tonight?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Then I know I’m in good hands.” I wink.
Bill chuckles. “Do you need me to sign anything back in for you, Arthur?”
“No. I took care of it all earlier.” He shoves his hands back into his pockets. “I’ll leave you here, ma’am. Have a good night. Bill.” He nods to the guard.
“You too.” I wave as he walks away toward the staff entrance.
Bill scratches Lillian’s ears. “That rookie is certainly devoted to his work.”
“Oh?”
“Arthur insisted on being the one who accompanied you on your walk with Lillian tonight.” He shakes his head.
“Killian and I assured him we could manage just fine, but the young man wouldn’t take no for an answer, even though he’d already clocked out.
” Bill slips my spaniel a treat from his pocket, then stands.
“I guess all rookies feel they have something to prove.”
I spend a few more minutes chatting with one of the palace’s long-time officers before heading up to my room. Thoughts of Art swirl around my brain. He insisted on being with me even though he was already done for the evening? Why? Does he feel that he has a lot to prove? Or is it something more?
Unlocking the door, I slip Lillian’s harness off her and watch her pad over to her food and water dishes.
I lie down on my bed, intending to replay some of the day’s moments in my head, but as soon as my head touches the pillow, I fall asleep.
Figuring out my personal protection officer will have to wait another day.