Page 3 of Never Dance with a Duke

When an immense long-haired black dog loped by on the adjacent green, she promptly deserted her toy, dropping it to the pathway and trying with all of her might to chase the dog. The runt of her litter, Bella had no notion of her extra small size, even at almost four months old.

In the distance, an impatient male voice called after the large dog. “Sampson! Stop.”

Oh, dear. Had he escaped his owner?

Undoubtedly, and one snap of his big jaws would severely injure Bella.

“No, Bella,” Nicolette gently admonished.

The biscuit-colored pup was still learning appropriate leash behavior. She strained against her restraint, her sturdy little body visibly quivering for another moment before Bella reluctantly resumed her version of strolling.

These early morning promenades, when Mama was still abed, were the only times Nicolette claimed for herself. She raised her face to catch a ray of sun feathering through the bright green foliage.

Its warmth soothed and rejuvenated her.

It was a glorious spring morning, and she breathed out a deep, cleansing breath.

Typically, the weather would’ve invigorated Nicolette and helped prepare her to face whatever social fracas Mama had decided she must endure for the day and evening.

Always—always, dash it all—with the ultimate goal of seeing her happily wed. Mama wasn’t ready to quit the field just yet regarding Nicolette’s nuptials—more’s the pity. She still dreamed her only daughter would find a suitable husband and eventual contentment.

And live happily ever after.

Pshaw. Nicolette wrinkled her nose.

As if that was ever going to happen now.

She’d given love a chance once, and with a few exceptions—her brother Ansley, Earl of Scarborough, being one—she’d henceforth concluded men were toads. No, toads could be cute, intriguing creatures, and it was unfair to make the comparison.

Surely she could do better than that.

Cockroaches.

Yes, men were cockroaches—the lot of them.

Most especially handsome dukes.

Well, excluding her friends’ husbands—the Dukes of Sheffield, Sutcliffe, Bainbridge, and Pennington—who were decent enough chaps, she supposed.

Fine then, not all lords were devil’s spawns. Just most.

Mindful of her propensity to freckle, Nicolette lowered her face, and her pink bonnet’s brim blocked the soothing sunshine once more. A smile tipped her mouth as Bella spotted a squirrel and made to charge after the small creature.

However, this particular squirrel, nearly as big as the pug, wasn’t having any of Bella’s bravado. It sat upon its haunches, scolding the puppy soundly for her impudence.

“Ruff.” Bella hopped on all fours. “Ruff. Ruff. Ruff.”

Hop. Hop. Hop.

She bounced on her sturdy little legs again, whining fretfully in her attempts to reach the taunting rodent.

Why, the little gray wretch appeared to grin tauntingly at Bella. It’s small, sharp, yellow teeth clearly showing, it even made little chirping noises, which sounded distinctly like squirrely chuckles.

The dog that had raced by earlier must’ve heard Bella’s frantic barks for it came tearing across the green straight toward them. Nicolette’s heart faltered before kicking into double time.

A liveried footman charged after the creature, but he couldn’t possibly catch the animal before he was upon Nicolette.

Good Lord!