Free Lady Belling's Secret by Amylynn Bright Page B

could look into Dalton’s eyes. “I apologize. You have my full attention now. What did I miss?”
    “Nothing of any consequence, I assure you. I was merely going over all the changes that need to be made at Chesterfield.” Dalton patted her hand.
    “But that is very interesting,” Francesca protested. “Please continue.”
    “Darling, there is no need to feign interest. You’ve already won me. The contracts have been signed. I won’t call off the wedding simply because you don’t hang on my every word.”
    Francesca stopped walking and suppressed a tidal wave of panic. “Who said we were calling off the engagement?”
    Dalton held up a staying hand and chuckled. “No one. I was teasing. What a fine scandal that would be.”
    Francesca audibly exhaled. “Oh.” She retook his arm and gently urged him to keep walking before people could stare. She studiously ignored Dalton’s puzzled glances.
    She used all her social skills to bring the conversation back around to less-complicated matters: literature, mutual friends, an art exhibit they had both seen at the National Gallery, and a mutual love for frozen ices. Dalton settled her on a shady bench and took a seat next to her. They sat for some time enjoying the lazy afternoon and watched a group of boys play with several large dogs in the field before them while they chatted.
    Suddenly, a yell rose up from the boys, and Francesca and Dalton lifted their heads to see a rather large black animal careening in their direction, its leash trailing behind, flapping in the wind. Two of the boys hollered indistinct commands and gave chase, while one smaller boy stayed behind trying futilely to control yet another enormous black dog.
    Frankie yelped at the commotion and rose from the bench. Squinting, she tried to focus as the racing dog closed in on her and her bench from only fifteen yards away. As the speeding animal grew closer, she was able to make out a fuzzy creature bounding in front of the dog, tail high, racing for safety, all while the dog barked with ferocious glee.
    Moving to stand in front of her, Dalton commanded, “Stay behind me.”
    “Are you sure that’s a dog? It looks more like a bear on a leash to me,” Frankie said as she peered around his shoulder in order to keep a wide-open eye on the gigantic dog.
    “Really,” he agreed, “that is one bloody big dog?”
    Just as Dalton confirmed that it was indeed a dog, the fuzzy creature running for its life transformed into a squirrel. It stayed its course and barreled towards them at breakneck speed. It ran between Dalton’s spread feet and right underneath Francesca’s skirts. Of course, Frankie screamed, Dalton yelled, the dog woofed, and the children arrived panting and shouting advice all while the squirrel rummaged around underneath her skirts in a panic.
    To make matters even more chaotic, the second dog finally abandoned any hope of the tenacious little boy releasing him and took off for the group, literally dragging the child on the ground by his stomach.
    Forgetting all modesty, Francesca yanked her skirts up in a desperate attempt to free the squirrel. Sensing a chance for freedom, the terrified animal leapt for the tree behind the bench. Unfortunately, neither of the dogs saw its bid for freedom. The first one thrust its gigantic head between her legs, tilting her off balance, and the second one, drunk with the chase, lurched to a stop just in front of her and planted both of its huge front feet squarely on her chest, sending her head over heels onto the hard ground.
    Thomas urged his horse and carriage into a run when he saw the commotion ahead of him. It wasn’t until he was almost upon the scene that he realized the lady under attack was Francesca. His heart nearly leapt out of his chest when she went down in a tangle of skirts and black fur. The carriage hadn’t come to a complete stop before he launched himself off the seat and into the fray.
    Dalton swore vehemently and knocked one