Rowena (Regency Belles Series Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

again. And when they saw the puppy’s little head with its brown eyes and wet black nose appear over the edge of the basket yet again, Edward was forced to explain where he was taking it. That, of course, set off a whole new line of comment, with particular mention of Lord Conniston’s excellent estates.
    By the time he escaped from the town the puppy was howling and Edward was considerably less happy than before. In the shade of a wide oak he pulled Jessie to a halt. The basket much inhibited his movement but he managed to dismount without tipping the wriggling contents onto the ground. He sat on the grassy bank. The puppy looked up at him. Edward sniffed. He frowned. The puppy put its paws on the basket’s edge. Edward lifted it and the jacket out. The faded woollen cloth was decidedly damp. Muttering more fiercely, Edward sat the puppy on the grass beside him. He anchored the jacket with one foot and tried to rip it in half. When the cloth stubbornly refused to part, he fished in his pocket for his penknife and struggled a slit in the back seam. The cloth parted. He flung the damp half over the hedge. The other half he folded back into the basket ready for the puppy. It had gone. Four feet away along the bank it was perilously close to what looked like a rabbit hole. Edward leapt up, captured it and wrapped it back into its travelling accommodation.
    Jessie had taken no interest in him at all, nor in the puppy’s adventures. Seeing an opportunity, she had ambled down the road to investigate a particularly luscious clump of grass poking through the gate to the field. Edward began to regret the decision for his journey. It was several minutes before he was safely remounted, complete with basket and puppy. Quite ignoring the birds chirping in the leafy branches overhead and the black and white cows placidly chewing the cud in the fields while their calves staggered around on spindly legs, he trotted off towards Southwold Hall, intent on arriving before the puppy could ruin the remaining half of the jacket.
    He saw the gates of the hall with as much pleasure as greeted his arrival in the morning room
    ‘Eddie!’ Amabelle dropped her embroidery on the settee and ran towards him. ‘You’re home.’
    ‘Obviously, lambkin.’
    Amabelle dragged at his arm ‘You can’t call me lambkin any more. Not now I’m out.’
    ‘I’ll try to remember, lambkin.’ Edward bowed to Thomasina sitting among a selection of shawls on the armchair nearest the unmade fire.
    ‘Miss Quigley. I hope I find you well. You too Rowena.’
    ‘You do, thank you Edward,’ Rowena said. ‘It’s a pleasure to see you home.’
    Thomasina struggled free of a red Norwich shawl. ‘Your dear Mama must be so pleased,’ she twittered, her fingers tangled in the fringe.
    For the umpteenth time Edward greeted the remark as if it were the first occasion he had heard it that day. ‘Thank you, ma’am, she is.’
    Amabelle was peering at the basket. ‘What have you brought?’
    Edward held it out to her. ‘A present. If you’re careful, you may look.’
    Amabelle reached out her hand and poked a finger into the remains of the jacket. The jacket wriggled.
    ‘Eek.’ She snatched her hand away. ‘What is it?’
    Edward turned the material back gently. The sleeping contents were revealed. It presented an attractive sight. Golden fur, smooth as silk, on its plump little body; long, rounded ears flopped over closed eyes and black nose.
    ‘Oh,’ Amabelle cooed. ‘It’s a puppy. Look Rowena. It’s a puppy.’
    ‘One of Abbie’s. She had seven a few weeks ago, Matthew said.’
    ‘A spaniel then.’ Rowena walked forward and peered into the basket.
    The little creature stirred. An eye opened. The thin flick of tail started to bang against the side of the basket.
    ‘How lovely,’ Amabelle breathed. ‘Is he yours?’
    ‘I rather thought you might like him. And it’s a her.’
    Amabelle’s eyes opened wide. ‘Oh, Eddie. How wonderful.’ She swung