It Takes a Scandal Read Online Free PDF Page A

life  . . .” She shook her head, looking irked.
    “I won’t,” Abigail promised. “I’m sure he’ll be nearby. His legs are too short to have taken him far.”
    Her mother smiled and threw up her hands before hurrying off. Abigail went outside. With the servants rushing around getting ready, more than one door had been left open, and a small dog could have easily slipped out without notice.
    She walked along the gravel path, keeping a keen eye out for her mother’s pet. It was lovely to be outside, where it was quiet and cool, and where she didn’t have to listen to Penelope grumble. In a week’s time Penelope had found a long list of things to dislike: the sounds of boatmen on the river, the lack of shops nearby, the way the door of her bedroom squeaked. But to Abigail, the hardest thing about life in Richmond was enduring her sister’s disgruntlement; otherwise she thought Papa had done tremendously well in his choice. As much as she liked the bustle and activity of London, there was a peace out here that couldn’t be found in the city. The air was different as well, warmer and softer somehow without the smells of town, even before one encountered the path lined with flowering shrubs and trees. It smelled utterly divine on this walk, which was one of Abigail’s new favorite spots on earth. Without hesitation she turned down it and took a deep breath in appreciation. Hart House suited her remarkably well.
    She reached the end of the sweet-scented path, and stopped to look around. “Milo,” she called again. “Where are you, silly dog?” There was a rustle in the shrubbery ahead. She walked forward, whistling a little tune. “Come here, Milo. Your mistress is worried about you.”
    Obediently, Milo trotted out of the bushes onto the path, tail wagging and head held high. And, to Abigail’s horror, there was something in his mouth—something squirming.
    “Milo!” she gasped. “Put it down!”
    The puppy saw her and gave a little bound, his eyes shining joyfully. Oh no; he thought this was a game.
    “Milo,” she said sternly, “drop that rabbit!” For it certainly looked like a young rabbit wriggling frantically between his teeth. Her stomach lurched at the thought of having to carry the dog back into the house covered with the blood of a baby bunny.
    He shook his head, almost as if in reply to her command, and the rabbit made another desperate squeal. Abigail put one hand over her mouth; she hadn’t known rabbits could make a noise like that.
    She crouched down, taking care to keep her skirt out of the dirt. “Milo,” she said gently but firmly, “come here.” She had no idea how she would get the rabbit away from him, but somehow it seemed an easier prospect if she had hold of the dog first. “Come, boy.”
    He backed away, stubby tail still wagging from side to side. Abigail pressed her lips together; she should have brought a treat of some sort to tempt him. “Come,” she said again, scooting forward on her tiptoes. “Come here.”
    For answer he turned and loped away, still holding his prey in his teeth. Abigail scrambled to her feet and ran after him. “Milo, you wretched little pest, come here!” He only ran faster, every now and then giving his head a shake, before he veered to the left down a wilder path, little more than a dirt track through the trees.
    She paused, clutching her skirt with one hand. Her mother had said not to go too far. Abigail had no hope of finding the little brown dog in the woods, with twilight rapidly encroaching. The wise thing would be to go back to the house and let her mother send James out into the thicket after the miserable little rabbit killer. “I’m not chasing you in there,” she muttered after the dog, whom she could still hear rustling in the underbrush even though she couldn’t see him any longer. “It wouldn’t hurt you to spend a night in the woods.” She didn’t think about what harm might befall the small animals of the