“Go then. Answer the call. Or, you could just allow your feet to answer it.”
“Oh, hush,” she grumbled, suddenly realizing that he had been teasing her.
It was difficult not to run to the river as fast as she could. The sun had felt so nice at the start of the day but had quickly grown to be a torment as the day grew warmer. Her feet hurt so much inside her boots she was surprised she could still walk. Shedding her boots and stockings as quickly as she could, she waded into the water and sighed with relief.
Bliss, she thought. The cooling effect of the water quickly spread through her body. Since she had no intention of putting the same pair of stockings back on, Primrose grabbed one, soaked it in the water, and, as discreetly as possible, began to wash up.
For a minute, she thought seriously about shedding all her clothes and sinking her whole body into the water. Then good sense prevailed. She was out in the open, at a river she had little knowledge of, and in an area that could be a lot more traveled than she knew. It would be beyond reckless to sit in the water naked as the day she was born. Anyone could come along. The fact that she would have even considered such a shocking action told her that she may have been traveling around by herself for far too long.
Just as she was buttoning the front of her gown again, she saw a young maid holding a basket hurry down the hill to stand at the river’s edge. Thinking the girl had come to eat her lunch by the river, Primrose wondered if there was a chance she could buy whatever the maid had in the basket. Patting the skirts of her gown to see if she had any coins in her pocket, Primrose watched the maid open the basket, pull out something white and wriggling, draw her arm back, and hurl it into the river.
It yelped as it hit the water and Primrose leapt to her feet. She did not think twice but plunged into the river and walked as quickly as she was able to in the water toward the animal that struggled to paddle back to shore. Then she felt the current. It was tugging hard at her feet. Keeping her eyes on the little animal fighting so valiantly to stay alive, she reached beneath the water to tie up her skirts and free her legs before pushing farther into the river. Primrose was afraid she was going to have to swim into the swift current and was bracing herself for plunging all the way into the water when she heard a bellow from the shore followed by a lot of splashing. A heartbeat later Bened stood beside her, glaring down at her.
Bened finished washing the travel dust off and had to admit that it felt good. He also understood why Primrose had wanted to put her feet in the water. It had been a while since he had enjoyed anything so simply pleasurable as tugging his boots and hose off his feet and setting them in the cool water.
He frowned in the direction of where she had gone to the river’s edge. She had had long enough, he decided. It was not wise for her to be out anywhere alone. No matter how hard he had tried, he had been unable to shake Augusta. He knew she was hunting Primrose’s brother but that would change quickly if the woman got word of her niece’s presence in the area.
Primrose would be almost as big a prize for the woman as Lord Simeon. She could not get hold of all she wanted without putting the girl out of her way as well as the son. Bened did not know what the woman got out of marrying Primrose to a filthy, aging roué but he suspected it was a lot more than Primrose thought it was. The very last thing he wanted was for Primrose to be in the hands of a woman who could do to a child as she had done.
Stepping out of the river, he wiped his feet dry with his hose and then rinsed them out in the water. He looked at his shirt and rinsed that out as well. The question was, did he go back to the horses to get a new shirt, or just go find Primrose. He grinned, tossed his shirt and hose over his shoulder, and set off down the river to where she was cooling her feet. They would be traveling together for quite a while, he told himself, so she should learn to see him in the rough as soon as possible.
The moment he saw her, he tossed his wet clothes onto a rock and ran toward her. She was standing in the river. Then he saw that she was actually moving into deeper water where the current would be more dangerous. He yelled at her but she did not turn back so he went into the water after her, his heart pounding as he feared he would not reach her before the current swept her to her death. When he reached her side, he beat back the urge to just pick her up and take her back to shore. She was close enough to grab now if the need arose.
“What the bloody hell are you doing?” he demanded, the fear that had choked him fading as he saw how she was standing steadily in the water of a river notorious for catching people in its swift currents and drowning them or smashing them against the rocks a little farther downstream.
She ignored him and grabbed hold of his hand. “Hold fast to me so that I can stretch out and reach that poor thing.”
All Bened could see was a small animal’s head bobbing on the water. It was not getting any closer to them but he knew it was paddling furiously against the current that was trying to pull it deeper into its flow. He looked at Primrose who was hanging on to his hand and reaching out to it. He braced himself and switched his grasp from her hand to her wrist, then reached beneath the water with his other hand to grab hold of her tucked up skirts, struggling not to think of her bared legs hidden by the water. Now that he knew she was safe he was a little too interested in the way her wet gown clung to her full breasts. He did not need thoughts of her bared legs adding to that distraction.
“You are trying to save a rat?” he asked.
“It is a puppy. She just threw it in the river.”
Primrose feared it was taking her too long and she would soon see the animal pulled off downstream to its death. She reached out as far as she could, confident that Bened would hold fast. Her fingers brushed over the animal’s small head and then she clutched the loose skin at the back of its neck. It did not struggle against her grip and she yanked it free of the current, clutching it against her chest as Bened wrapped an arm around her waist and carried her back to the riverbank.
They had just reached the shore when she abruptly realized he was bare-chested. And a magnificent chest it was, she decided. Broad, a small patch of curly black hair in the middle of whatever they called a man’s breasts, with smooth dark skin stretched over muscle. She was just thinking of rubbing her cheek against it when he set her down on her feet. The direction of his gaze reminded her that her skirts were kilted up, exposing her bare legs, and she quickly lowered them, grimacing at the feel of the wet material against her skin.
“That river has killed a lot of people,” Bened said, resisting the urge to flex some muscles when he saw how intently she was staring at his chest, “and you just walk into it to save a rat.”
“It is a puppy!” she snapped, finally finding the strength to reluctantly tear her gaze away from his chest and look into his face. “She threw it in the water.” Primrose glared at the maid who was wise enough to quickly avert her greedy gaze from Bened’s chest. “Took it out of that basket and just hurled the poor thing into the water.”
“My mistress told me to do it. This one is for the river, is what she said. She saw it was a runt and only had one eye and told me to be rid of it,” the young maid said.
“Then she should have done it when it was first born, not waited until it was weaned,” said Bened. “Snap its neck. A quick death before it is old enough to know what life is. This rat—”
“Puppy!” Primrose yelled.
He ignored her. “—was aware and drowning is a bad death. They have time to try to fight it.”
“No one noticed it until the mistress came to look over the litter when she was told they were weaned. She wanted to see if there was one she wished to keep or if she would just sell all of them. She will just make me come back and try again,” she added with a glance at the puppy Primrose was busily rubbing dry with her towel.
“Who deals with the breeding?” asked Bened.
“The stable master does all the breeding of the dogs. He kept the last one she wanted gone but it was not maimed like thi
s one.”
“Tell him what I said about snapping the neck.”
“I will, sir.” She looked again at where Primrose was working so hard to get the puppy dry. “Keep the basket.” She turned and made her way back up the hill.
Bened watched how Primrose coddled the tiny dog, and sighed. He knew they would be lugging the thing along with them and he would have to keep an eye out for its safety as well. If it ever got separated from them, she would insist upon searching for it, ignoring the fact that they were being hunted. As a man who had once saved a three-legged dog from being shot by its owner, he fully understood but it was a very poor time to add a helpless animal to their baggage.
“You have saved it so now we can leave,” he said, hoping she would see that they could not take the animal on their journey yet knowing it was a false hope.
Primrose looked around and frowned. “The maid left.”
“She left the basket.” He sighed when she hurried over to get it and ever so gently tucked the tiny animal inside. “You do understand that we are probably being hunted now as assiduously as your brother, do you not?”
“Of course I do.”
He winced for there was a definite tone of insult to her voice. “It is not a good time to be dragging a puppy along with us. They need more care than an older dog. More careful watching. Perhaps we can take a little time seeing if someone else would take it and care for it.”
“No.” She stood up with the basket on her arm. “They will not do it as well as I can.”
Primrose faced him, intending to tell him as firmly as possible that there would be no talk of leaving the puppy somewhere. Then her gaze settled on his chest. She was a countrybred woman and she had seen men’s chests before, she told herself, yet his had her heart skipping around in her chest in a way that made her a little breathless. Her palms itched to touch that smooth, warm skin. When the thought of pressing her lips to it, maybe tracing those ribbed muscles on his stomach, popped into her head, she startled herself so much she was finally able to turn her mind back to the matter of the little dog.
“Rose,” he began.
“I know puppies are a lot of care, but I will do it. I saved the poor creature. I will care for her. It has been a long time since I have had a dog and I have decided I will have this one.” She turned and went to get her stockings and boots.
Shaking his head, Bened knew that was the end of it. He had seen that look in his mother’s eyes from time to time when she wanted something and his father had protested. Once that look had settled on his mother’s face, his father had just stopped arguing. Most of the time, his mother had proven correct in what she had wanted for it had made life better, cooking easier, and any number of other improvements in the crowded house. Bened was not sure a tiny one-eyed dog would prove of any value, but he had no intention of arguing anymore. He went and got his shirt, hose, and boots.
Once back at the camp, while Bened was donning his shirt and getting out new hose before he put his boots back on, Primrose sought out a sheltered area to put on clean stockings and her own boots. She then stood and wrung out her skirts. Already they were drying but she feared the dress might be ruined. Then she sneezed.
Bened was at her side in a moment. “You sneezed.”
“I am not surprised. We are out in the wild and I was just in the water. Between the two there are a lot of good reasons for me to sneeze.”
“You could be growing ill.”
“Of course, I could but I sincerely doubt that I am. The water was not cold and today is quite warm.”
“We will stop at an inn in the village.”
“Bened, I will not fall into a fever just because I went into the water.”
“You can never be sure of such a thing. Rivers are not the cleanest of places.”
“That one looked very clean.”
“We will stop at an inn so that you do not add the chill of the night to everything else.”
He went to tend to the horses and she sighed. Stopping at inns was not only expensive, but they also put them inside a building and away from their horses. She knew he preferred to remain outside as often as possible. Shaking her head, she went and got some food out of her bags.
Bened found her carefully tearing up some chicken to feed the dog. As it had dried, it had actually begun to look less like a rat and more like a dog. Nothing would ever make it a real dog, though. It was one of those women liked, keeping them on their lap or toting them around in fancy baskets and bags everywhere the woman went. He could admit the dog had charm but he did not understand women’s fascination with the creatures.
“Hope you left enough for us,” he said, and chuckled when she glared at him.
“Bread, cheese, and more chicken are right over there.” She pointed to a bag set only a few feet away. “I am never certain about what to bring along on a journey as I am not sure what holds up well for long carriage or horse rides. There is some ale and a little cider as well but I suspect they are quite warm.”
“Those three things do well enough. And warm drink is better than no drink. Cider is more tolerable warm than ale, though.”
Primrose smiled in agreement and then stroked the little dog’s head. It gave her a timid lick and her heart melted. She took a moment to check the animal’s sex and was certain she had a female dog. A name was needed but she knew it would be a while before she came up with one. She was very slow whenever asked to name something. It was probably foolish, but she considered the name very important and wanted it to suit the thing, plant, or animal perfectly, to actually say something about it.
Bened handed her a tankard of cider and sat down beside her to enjoy his light meal. She felt her stomach cramp a little in demand and went to get herself some food. When she sat back down beside him, it was to find him and the puppy staring at each other. The puppy had the remains of a little snarl on her face.
“What are you doing?” she asked Bened in a near whisper, not wishing to disturb the puppy in case it had the idiot notion to attack.
“Determining who is the head of the pack,” he replied in an equally quiet voice.
“What pack?”
“The one you just formed by bringing this little dog into it. Dogs need to know who is the head of the pack from the start or you will have a very hard time training them to do anything.”
“Where do you get these ideas?”
“By watching animals. Have been surrounded by them all my life. They have their ways. Dogs are pack animals.”
“I know that.”
“This one is testing its place. Snarled at me and I knew what it was about. It was a challenge.”
“And you had to answer a challenge from an animal that probably does not weigh as much as your boot?”
“Laugh if you must, but it is important. We are going to have it with us all along the journey and it needs to know that it should do as I say. And as you say, but that will be no trouble. You just became its dam, you know.”
“By pulling it out of the river?”
“Aye. By picking it up when even its animal mind knew it was going to die.”
“Animals understand death?”
“Why not? Animals understand the fight to survive, the need to procreate and protect that issue, the need to fight for what is theirs whether it be their hunting ground or their mate. This little one was fighting hard to survive and yours was the hand that reached out to help. That is something this dog will never, never forget. Me? I just showed up, although it helps. I was there when it knew it was safe again. And there we go. Submission.”
Primrose looked to see that the puppy had her head down, her eye flicking down and to the side as she obviously tried not to look straight into Bened’s who was calmly eating again. “That is it?”
“Aye. That is acknowledgment of the head of the pack. If it was not so exhausted and in the basket, it would probably show me its belly.”
“Oh. Its weakest spot. How do you know all that?”
; “Told you. Spent my life around animals and they fascinate me. Studied them a lot. You should take note. This is why you should always be careful about what dogs you look at in the eye. Look at the snout first and only after you know it is safe should you try a look in the eye, and do not stare into the eyes for long unless it quickly shows you that it is a submissive sort.”
“Or what? What happens?”
“The dog could attack. It will think it needs to protect its place as head of the pack.”
“What about cats?” She frowned when he laughed.
“Cats have other cats they tolerate and a tom can get all puffed up and angry around another tom but they are nothing like dogs. They do as they please. You might think you rule, but I doubt that you do. We had cats and some liked me, but I never took much time to study them as I did dogs and horses. Horses need their herd, dogs need their pack, but cats just need a nice sunny place to sleep in as far as I can see. I just knew it could take a much longer time to get even the most basic rules to how cats live. I sometimes think cats live with us because we make their fight for survival easier but not always because they like us.”
She laughed. “You might be right about that but I like cats. Unfortunately, Papa did not. Not in his house.”
Bened silently promised himself that he would ignore any stray cats and, definitely, any kittens he saw along the way. He would do his best to make sure he led Primrose in another direction. It would cause him a pang or two of guilt if the animal was actually in danger but he would do it. There was no doubt in his mind that Primrose would turn them into some kind of traveling Noah’s ark if he was not careful. Her safety had to take precedence.
The ferocity with which he thought that surprised him. He looked at her feeding part of her own meal to the pathetic little animal in the basket and sighed. It showed a good character that she would be so loving to an animal most people would put down as useless. But it was more than that which stirred such a fierce need to keep her safe. He was not sure he wanted to look at the more right now.
If He's Noble (Wherlocke Book 7) (Paranormal Historical Romance) Page 9