A Change of Plan
Ella entered the shop behind Mrs. Pitt.
“Mrs. Fromer,” Mrs. Pitt said to the elderly woman examining a dress hanging from a hook.
The woman turned and smiled. “Mrs. Pitt.”
Mrs. Fromer called for tea. Within three minutes, it became apparent to Ella that the two women were peas in a pod. They even finished each other’s complaints. As they chatted, Ella perused the small shop and found several bolts of fabric and two kinds of lace she liked. She looked up when a young girl burst through the rear door of the shop.
“Grandmother,” the girl called, “there is a dog in need of rescue.”
“A dog?” Mrs. Fromer exclaimed. “It didn’t bite you, did it, Lottie?”
The girl shook her head and, in a rush, described a dog stuck on a rock ledge overlooking the beach.
“We must rescue the poor thing,” Ella said.
“There’s always stray dogs about,” Mrs. Fromer said. “It’s hardly a fitting task for a lady, if I might say.”
“Ah, but Lady Strachan is a patron to animals in need.” Mrs. Pitt said.
Mrs. Fromer frowned.
Ella refused to be deterred. The poor creature had to be helped.
“I shan’t be long,” she promised.
Minutes later, Ella began climbing the rocks below the ledge where the dog shivered. Footholds gave out before she reached the ledge. She leaned forward as far as she dared and, in an attempt to coax the white fluff of fur to trust, dangled in front of the dog the chicken leg Mrs. Fromer had given her granddaughter.
“Come now, wee lassie,” Ella cajoled.
The dog cowered against the cliff wall, just out of reach.
“Come now, love.” Ella waved the chicken as close as she could. If only her arms were a few inches longer, she could grab the small animal by the scruff of the neck.
“Ella?” a deep baritone called.
Ella glanced down.
Ashton stood beneath her, his dark brow lifted.
Her mind went blank and all she could think to say was, “I can’t reach her.”
“So I see. Come down from there.”
She blinked. “But we cannot leave the dog—”
“Come down, Ella.”
“I beg your pardon, sir, but I will not leave her there.”
“For God’s sake, Ella. I do not intend to leave her there. I will climb up. But first, you come down.”
She eyed him.
He released a sigh. “You have my word as a gentleman.”
“Very well.” She tossed the chicken leg to the dog.
“I’ll fetch more chicken.” Lottie dashed down the path toward the lace shop.
It was far easier to climb down than it had been to climb up. Ella had nearly reached the beach when two strong hands encircled her waist and lifted her to the ground. She jerked, causing Ashton to step back and she fell against his chest. A muscled arm tightened around her.
“Easy, lass.” His hand dropped low over her spine.
She glanced up. The way his tanned flesh stood against the whiteness of his collar drew her eye. He was so handsome, so impossible to ignore. Their marriage was supposed to be in name only, but she'd visited the library thrice the night before in the hopes he might kiss her again. If only he would, now.
His hands dropped away as he asked, “Do you intend to rescue every dog in Scotland?”
Disappointment washed over her, but she forced a smile. “Two hardly adds up to every.”
He grunted, turned and located hand and toeholds in the rocks.
Ella watched him climb. The spectacle proved strangely arousing. He moved with ease and grace, and in half the time she’d taken, he'd lifted himself onto the rock shelf. Easily, he reached the dog and in less than a minute, he towered over her, the scruff of white fur cradled in his arms. The sight of so powerful a man cradling a creature in need sent a bolt of heat straight to her core. She swallowed.
He climbed back down, then faced her. “What do you plan on naming this one?” he asked in a slightly mocking tone as he relinquished the dog into her arms.
“I’ll think of something suitable.” She pursed her lips. The poor creature trembled. She was filthy and as light as a feather.
“Wrap her.” Ashton removed his coat. “Mrs. Pitt will have an apoplectic fit that you’re holding something so in need of a bath.”
“But your coat. Surely, that will upset her more.” Her objections abruptly faded away as he stepped close to drop the coat over the shivering dog. She shivered herself, but for an entirely different reason.
“Mrs. Pitt will never approve of me,” he said with a shrug. “I am The Demon Earl in her eyes and always will be.”
Ella caught her breath at his nearness. “Dakini,” she blurted. “I shall name her Dakini.”
His head snapped back. From his shuttered expression, she knew he recognized the meaning of the name. “Aptly named,” he said stiffly. “A demon dog for the wife of The Demon Earl. As you say, name the dog for what it truly harbors inside.”
She caught his arm as he stepped back. “Or perhaps it is a statement.”
“Statement?” he asked gruffly.
“Titles often have nothing to do with the creatures onto which they are bestowed.” She held her breath and met his gaze boldly.
He didn’t move.
She removed her fingers from his sleeve and licked her dry lips. She’d obviously overstepped her bounds.
“I’ll offer the creature to Mrs. Fromer first, before taking her home,” she said.
She took no more than three steps down the path before his hands gripped her shoulders. As she turned her head, his lips captured hers. She froze, uncertain exactly what she should do. Wasn’t she supposed to wrap her arms around his neck, at the very least? If only she wasn’t holding the dog, she could…could… His tongue slipped between her lips and into her mouth as he pulled her against his chest. He was so warm, so solid…so everywhere all at once.
He slid his hands down her arms then over her hips. She gasped. He took advantage of her surprise and drove his tongue even deeper.
She’d thought he’d kissed her before? Hardly. This was a kiss, what she’d been instinctively wanting. She relaxed against him, desperate for more. The dog whined.
As if reading her mind, Ashton traced the fingers of his left hand up her ribs.
“Lady Strachan?” Lottie’s young voice called.
His lips left hers—and his hands. Feeling almost drunk, Ella opened her eyes as Ashton stepped away and Lottie skipped into view, grinning from ear to ear.