Page 20 of A Devious Secret

Mr. Wycomb reached for the stick, but the puppy backed up, his tail wagging.

“It would appear that Bandit wishes to play,” Gemma said.

“That is all that he wants to do,” Mr. Wycomb grumbled. “He is nearly impossible to train.”

“Bandit is still young.”

Mr. Wycomb took a commanding step towards the dog and ordered, “Drop it.”

Bandit’s ears went up and he stared up at Mr. Wycomb.

“Drop it,” Mr. Wycomb repeated.

The puppy dropped the stick on the ground in front of him and took a step back.

Mr. Wycomb looked relieved. “Good job, Bandit,” he praised.

As he went to retrieve the stick, Bandit scooped it back up and ran a short distance away.

“Blasted dog,” Mr. Wycomb mumbled.

Gemma knew she shouldn’t laugh, but she found the situation to be quite amusing. She had never trained a dog before, but she imagined it was rather difficult.

With a sigh, Mr. Wycomb said, “I daresay that it is easier to manage a ship than it is to train Bandit.”

“Surely it can’t be that bad.”

“I’m afraid it is.”

Gemma handed the reins off to one of the waiting footmen before she went to approach Bandit. She crouched down and said, “Come here, Bandit.”

Bandit dropped the stick and rushed towards her. She started petting the puppy, despite his many attempts to lick her on the mouth.

“I do worry that Bandit will soil your riding habit,” Mr. Wycomb said.

“Riding habits can be laundered.”

Mr. Wycomb clasped his hands behind his back. “Bandit will enjoy living in Brightlingsea. I have an estate on a cliff overlooking the ocean.”

“That sounds wonderful.”

“My father purchased the land right after he opened his shipyard and he promised himself that, one day, he would build a magnificent home on that property,” Mr. Wycomb shared. “It took many years, but now it stands as a testament to my father’s hard work and dedication.”

Gemma rubbed her gloved hands off on her riding habit. “What a beautiful legacy that you and your sister have.”

“It is,” Mr. Wycomb responded. “My father was a good man, and he taught me many valuable lessons that I still carry with me.”

She offered him a weak smile. “I wish that I could say the same about my father, but he was too busy gambling and chasing after his mistresses to teach me anything of value.”

Mr. Wycomb shifted in his stance. “I’m sorry.”

With a dismissive wave of her hand, she said, “It is of little consequence. Frankly, I hardly know the man.”

“That is most unfortunate.”

“My father made his choice long ago, and because of that, we do not enjoy a close relationship,” she said.

Mr. Wycomb eyed her curiously. “Is that what you want?”