Page 35 of Reforming Lord Neil

“We cannot always tell what a creature has been through by looking at them, be it man or beast. But people certainly hide things better. This poor creature, you can see she is afraid, though she wants to trust me.”

Teresa paused, waiting for her daughter to answer.

"It is a good thing you found her, Mr. Duncan. She is so sweet and gentle.” One could hear compassion in Caroline’s voice. Her heart was always quick to love and care for people and animals alike. It would be hard on her the day Mr. Duncan left.

Likely hard on all of them. The man had stirred up their lives with his company, his quick wit. And now, for Teresa, with his kisses.

She called out from the entrance to the barn. “Cara, dear, have you finished milking Abigail?”

The straw in the empty stall between Abigail’s and the horse shifted, then Caroline peeped over the wall. “Mama, come and see what Mr. Duncan found.”

Given that Abigail did not complain and moan at the sound of Teresa’s voice, the cow had likely been seen to. Teresa held her lantern up and approached the middle stall, where Caroline’s head disappeared again.

When she came close enough to look over, the sight that met her gaze warmed her heart. Caroline sat in one corner with her lantern and kitten; in the opposite corner sat Mr. Duncan, his lantern out of his reach. In his lap, he held a dog. The dog’s head was upon Mr. Duncan’s knee, its eyes nearly closed, and Mr. Duncan was carefully combing through the matts of the dog’s hindquarters.

He looked up at Teresa, and he shared no more than a tip of the head before focusing on the animal again. The dog trembled but did not resist his ministrations.

She kept her voice low as she spoke. “Where did that poor thing come from?”

Mr. Duncan’s tone was gentle, soothing even. “I found her beneath the brambles, in the rain. I fed her some of my dinner, and she trusts me enough now to let me get her clean.” The dog shuddered and turned its head into his side as though hiding, then it huffed.

Caroline giggled. “I think she likes Mr. Duncan. He saved her.”

“That he did.” Teresa smiled at her daughter. “And it’s kind of you to look in on them both, but if you have milked Abigail you had better take the milk inside and go on to bed.”

“Yes, Mama.” Caroline stood, kissed her kitten on the head, and came out of the stall. The dog’s ears twitched when the latch clicked shut again. Caroline grinned at her mother, took up the pail where she had left it on a barrel, and Teresa followed her inside. The child was likely already planning how to play with the dog the next day and win its affection.

Once the milk was seen to, Teresa kissed her daughter’s forehead and sent her to bed. But Teresa hesitated to make her own way up the stairs. She stood still, in the main room of the house, and looked to the basket upon the shelf full of her sewing things. Her best scissors were in that basket. It would be simple enough to have them sharpened again, and that dog’s fur had been in rather terrible shape.

She went to the basket and found what she needed. Then, after another moment of hesitation, she fetched Henry’s shaving kit where she had left it in a cupboard. She hadn’t given it to Neil before, as it had seemed too personal a gift.

“I might as well see them both trimmed,” she said. Leather pouch and scissors in one hand, lantern in the other, Teresa went back outside.

She had only been away from the barn for ten minutes, perhaps. Yet she was relieved to find that Mr. Duncan had not moved from where she had seen him before. Teresa hung her lantern from a hook above the stalls, then entered. The dog in Mr. Duncan’s lap trembled again.

“Poor little thing,” she whispered.

Mr. Duncan did not glance up at her. “Wherever she came from, she was treated poorly. I cannot think why. This dog has not barked, and she’s not even once tried to bite. If she was not kept as a guard dog, why mistreat her?”

“Some people are cruel for cruelty’s sake.” Teresa lowered herself to the straw next to Mr. Duncan, on the side near the dog’s tail, where most of the tangles were. She put the shaving pouch aside and kept the scissors in hand. “I brought some shears. If you wish to keep her calm, I can trim out the worst of the knots. It does not look as though you can do much more with your comb.”

He looked down at the tool in his hand. “You are right, of course. Thank you.” He looped one arm gently beneath the dog’s body and used the other hand to keep stroking her gray and brown fur. “She seems to do better when I’m talking. That is why Caroline stayed. My conversation kept her outside. I apologize.”

He still had not looked at her.

“Caroline’s little heart would break if she saw a creature like this be neglected. I imagine sitting here with you did her a great deal of good.” Teresa used the comb herself to lift the matted fur away from the rest, keeping her hand gentle. When the shears opened, the dog cringed and whined. “Poor dear girl. We best keep talking.”

“I hope your afternoon was pleasant, Mrs. Clapham.”

Teresa’s eyes narrowed, and she looked at him, finally catching him looking at her. His smile was weak at best.

Had her rejection of his kiss actually hurt him? That would put the situation in a new light entirely. If Mr. Duncan had been hurt, perhaps there had been more to the kiss than an impulsive gesture.

She turned her attention back to her work. “It was pleasant enough. There was a great deal of work to do, but we have put up all the cherries in the jars I bought with the market money. Now we can trade or sell the jars.”

“A wise investment.” Mr. Duncan rubbed the dog’s ears, and the animal’s shaking slowed. “It is admirable, how careful you are with your funds.”

Teresa lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Saving pennies here and there has kept us fed and clothed. Some years ago, I never thought much about it. I have had to learn.”