Page 32 of Dare to Risk it All

“That’s torn it,” Bainbridge muttered.

“Oh, Laurie!” Arabella said crossly. “You promised me everything would go smoothly.”

Bainbridge shook his head, his dark brows drawn together in consternation. “Now, now, Bella. I promised I would try my best to ensure everything went smoothly. You know as well as I do how reassuring that is.”

“Perhaps we should—” Raphe murmured, gesturing urgently to where the noise had come from as it was growing louder.

Bainbridge nodded grimly. “Best had. The parrot of doom will have the entire house in uproar if we don’t corral it somewhere. How did those blasted dogs get free, though? That’s what I want to know.”

Greer glanced at Raphe who gave a tiny shake of his head and they hurried out of the room with Mrs Davies calling after them.

“Save my darling, PomPom from that big brute!”

“PomPom,” Bainbridge repeated in disgust as he strode through an ornate music room and on to the next equally lavish salon. “What self-respecting dog wants a name like PomPom, I ask you? The poor devil.”

“Wait,” Raphe said, stopping in his tracks.

Bainbridge turned to regard him as Greer caught up with the men, and they all stood still.

Raphe held up a hand. “Listen.”

Over the sound of the orchestra and excited chatter, which seemed to rise and fall through the house in waves, there was the distant clatter of claws on marble.

“This way.” Bainbridge led them on, hurrying to the entrance hall from where squeals of laughter were audible. They looked up at the gallery above, to see Ollie and Alana, and Bainbridge’s niece and nephew, Freddie and Bertie. Bainbridge shook his fist at them. “You little devils! What have you—?”

But he had not time to finish the demand as an indignant squawk split everyone’s ears.

“Murder! Murder! Infamy!”

The hall filled with howling and barking as the dogs burst in like an oncoming furry hurricane.

Greer watched, dumbstruck, as she saw what her diabolical sister had done. If it wasn’t so appalling, Greer would have congratulated her on her cleverness. Alana had made each of the dogs a small jockey, fastened about its chest and back, and fashioned out of scraps of material, stuffed with wadding no doubt from some poor, mutilated pillow. And—was that one of her favourite scarves used for the blue jockey’s silks? Oh!

“And it’s red jockey in the lead, riding Thorn, who has shown fine form this season,” called Ollie from above, while the children cackled with hysterics. “But blue jockey is gaining fast on Doris with Dot, Daisy, Delia, and PomPom bringing up the rear!”

The Pekinese was panting, yapping with excitement as its little legs worked nineteen to the dozen to keep up with its big friends.

“Bloody bird!” Bainbridge raged at the parrot as it swooped low over his head with a taunting shout of ‘Cock!’ before turning and sailing out of the room.

Abruptly, the dogs changed direction to follow, skidding and sliding on the polished marble and knocking into Bainbridge, who staggered and fell, landing on his arse with a muttered oath.

Shrieks of mirth came from the gallery above, and even Raphe gave a bark of laughter at seeing his friend fall on his backside.

“Alana!” Greer shouted, exasperated, but her sister was so breathless with hilarity she was beyond hearing, clutching at Ollie to keep herself upright as tears streaked down her face. “Little beast,” Greer muttered, running after the dogs.

She turned to see Raphe at her side, grinning at her. “Lord, that was funny, but we’d best stop them before they get to the ballroom, or they’ll cause a riot.”

“You there!”

They both skidded to a halt at the sound of the imperious voice bellowing at them. Greer’s eyes widened at the sight of the rather magnificent man before them. Built on the same impressive lines as his son, with imposing features and steel grey hair, he was lavishly dressed and leaned heavily on a gold-topped cane. This could only be one man: the Duke of Axton.

Greer quailed, having heard much of the duke’s eccentricity and violent temper.

“I’ll have ten pounds on red,” he said. “Clever little chit, that Miss Alana. Diabolical, but clever.”

“Yes, your grace,” Raphe replied calmly, apparently used to the duke, who waved his cane at them before limping off again.

Greer heard him chuckling as he went.