There was an orderly bustle of outside staff, footmen and gardeners and stablemen, retiring to the indoors after the day’s labors. Animals were being led to the barn, horses to the stables. Christopher paused on the drive for a short, staving moment, assessing the situation. He felt apart from the scene, an intruder.

Determined to make the visit short and efficient, Christopher rode to the entrance, allowed a footman to take the reins, and strode to the front door.

The housekeeper came to greet him, and he asked to see Beatrix.

“The family is having dinner, sir—” the housekeeper began.

“I don’t care. Either bring Miss Hathaway to me, or I’ll find her myself.” He had already resolved that the Hathaway household would do nothing to distract or divert him. No doubt after a summer spent with his cantankerous dog, they would hand Albert over without a qualm. As for Beatrix—he only hoped she would try to stop him, so that he could make a few things clear to her.

“Would you care to wait in the front parlor, sir?”

Christopher shook his head wordlessly.

Looking perturbed, the housekeeper left him in the entrance hall.

In no time at all, Beatrix appeared. She was wearing a white dress made of thin, flowing layers, the bodice wrapped intricately over the curves of her br**sts. The translucence of her chest and upper arms gave her the look of emerging from the white silk.

For a woman who had stolen his dog, she was remarkably composed.

“Captain Phelan.” She stopped before him with a graceful curtsy.

Christopher stared at her in fascination, trying to retain his righteous anger, but it was slipping away like sand through his fingers. “Where are your breeches?” he found himself asking in a husky voice.

Beatrix smiled. “I thought you might come to fetch Albert soon, and I didn’t want to offend you by wearing masculine attire.”

“If you were all that concerned about giving offense, you would have thought twice before abducting my dog.”

“I didn’t abduct him. He went with me willingly.”

“I seem to recall telling you to stay away from him.”

“Yes, I know.” Her tone was contrite. “But Albert preferred to stay here for the summer. He has done very well with us, by the way.” She paused, looking him over. “How are you?”

“I’m exhausted,” Christopher said curtly. “I’ve just arrived from London.”

“Poor man. You must be famished. Come have dinner.”

“Thank you, but no. All I want is to collect my dog and go home.” And drink myself into a stupor. “Where is Albert?”

“He’ll be here momentarily. I asked our housekeeper to fetch him.”

Christopher blinked. “She’s not afraid of him?”

“Of Albert? Heavens, no, everyone adores him.”

The concept of someone, anyone, adoring his belligerent pet was difficult to grasp. Having expected to receive an inventory of all the damage Albert had caused, Christopher gave her a blank look.

And then the housekeeper returned with an obedient and well-groomed dog trotting by her side.

“Albert?” Christopher said.

The dog looked at him, ears twitching. His whiskered face changed, eyes brightening with excitement. Without hesitating, Albert launched forward with a happy yelp. Christopher knelt on the floor, gathering up an armful of joyfully wriggling canine. Albert strained to lick him, and whimpered and dove against him repeatedly.

Christopher was overwhelmed by feelings of kinship and relief. Gripping the warm, compact body close, Christopher murmured his name and petted him roughly, and Albert whined and trembled.

“I missed you, Albert. Good boy. There’s my boy.” Unable to help himself, Christopher pressed his face against the rough fur. He was undone by guilt, humbled by the fact that even though he had abandoned Albert for the summer, the dog showed nothing but eager welcome. “I was away too long,” Christopher murmured, looking into the soulful brown eyes. “I won’t leave you again.” He dragged his gaze up to Beatrix’s. “It was a mistake to leave him,” he said gruffly.

She was smiling at him. “Albert won’t hold it against you. To err is human, to forgive, canine.”

To his disbelief, Christopher felt an answering smile tug at the corners of his lips. He continued to pet the dog, who was fit and sleek. “You’ve taken good care of him.”

“He’s much better behaved than before,” she said. “You can take him anywhere now.”

Rising to his feet, Christopher looked down at her. “Why did you do it?” he asked softly.

“He’s very much worth saving. Anyone could see that.”

The awareness between them became unbearably acute. Christopher’s heart worked in hard, uneven beats. How pretty she was in the white dress. She radiated a healthy female physicality that was very different from the fashionable frailty of London women. He wondered what it would be like to bed her, if she would be as direct in her passions as she was in everything else.

“Stay for dinner,” she urged.

He shook his head. “I must go.”

“Have you eaten already?”

“No. But I’ll find something in the larder at home.”

Albert sat and watched them attentively.

“You need a proper meal after traveling so far.”

“Miss Hathaway—” But his breath was clipped as Beatrix took his arm with both hands, one at his wrist, one at his elbow. She gave a gentle tug. He felt it all the way to his groin, his body responding actively to her touch. Annoyed and aroused, he looked down into her dark blue eyes.