A Duke to Remember (A Season for Scandal Book 2) by Kelly Bowen Page B

replied faintly. “Welcome.”
    “Miss DeVries will be staying with us tonight,” Noah continued conversationally, as if this sort of thing happened regularly.
    Which, Elise suspected, based on the comically bewildered look on Mrs. Pritchard’s face, was far from the case.
    “What happened to your shirt?” She was staring at Noah’s bedraggled, ill-fitting garment.
    “I loaned mine to Miss DeVries,” Noah told her.
    Mrs. Pritchard’s eyes snapped back to Elise. “You what?” She wheezed slightly.
    “Hers was wet.”
    The cloth dropped from Mrs. Pritchard’s hands to flutter unnoticed to the ground.
    “It’s a bit of a long story,” Noah hastened to add, no doubt catching sight of his housekeeper’s face.
    “I was in a position to help Mr. Barr and his son this afternoon,” Elise said, wondering why she felt the need to explain.
    “She didn’t help Andrew; she saved him from drowning,” Noah said, giving Elise an exasperated look.
    “Um. Yes, well, since I was traveling through Nottingham, Mr. Lawson was kind enough to offer me a place to stay for the night. And the chance to dry my clothes,” Elise clarified.
    “I see,” Mrs. Pritchard said, clearly not seeing anything.
    “Why don’t we go inside?” Noah suggested. “Then I can tell you the whole story. I am being a poor host by leaving Miss DeVries standing dripping in my garden. Perhaps, Mrs. Pritchard, you might see Miss DeVries settled while I change?” He bent and retrieved the fallen cloth and handed it back to his housekeeper.
    “Of course.” The housekeeper seemed to give herself a mental shake, and her face creased into a beaming smile. “Please do come inside.”
    Noah held the door for her, and the housekeeper bustled back in, Elise following a little more slowly. She had gone but four steps when the sound of joyous barking split the silence and a blur of white fur streaked by her, gravel scattering beneath scrabbling paws.
    Three paws, at least, Elise realized, watching the creature that was bouncing around Noah, its entire back end wagging with the force of its tail. It was of an indeterminate breed, its head and body not quite matching, its ears sticking out from its head at illogical angles, and it was missing the lower part of a front leg.
    “My dog,” Noah said almost apologetically. “I call him Square.”
    “Square?” Elise repeated.
    The mutt turned at his name, and within a second it was Elise who found herself the object of much happy attention.
    “He doesn’t realize he’s a triangle,” Noah said in a stage whisper. “Don’t tell him.”
    A bubble of laughter escaped before she could stop it. She bent to rub the belly of the dog, who had rolled over at her feet and was looking at her hopefully.
    “What happened to his leg?”
    “Got caught in a poacher’s trap, I suspect. I found him out by the river eating what was left of a rotting fish. Leg was already half-healed.”
    “A survivor,” Elise said quietly, stroking the soft fur.
    “Yes.” She could feel the weight of Noah’s gaze on her. “That’s why I couldn’t just…”
    “Destroy him.”
    “Yes.”
    She wanted to look up at him, wanted to discover what she would find in his eyes. Wanted to know what Noah Ellery had survived to become the man he was today. Except she couldn’t. Because she was too afraid of what he might see in hers.
    “You can trust me,” he said into the quiet, and his odd words betrayed that her silence had already told him too much. Told him that she understood the meaning of the word survivor .
    Elise straightened, and the dog gave a disappointed woof. The word trust suddenly stuck in her throat like a sharp bone, making it difficult to swallow, difficult to think about anything else. She had no business speaking of trust. She was not at all who he thought her to be. She was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, come to yank the proverbial rug out from under his feet.
    “Come inside,” he said in that same gentle