Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 119548 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 478(@250wpm)___ 398(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119548 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 478(@250wpm)___ 398(@300wpm)
“I think you should focus the dog training on the actual dog,” I replied. “She’s playing tug of war with the curtain right now.”
“Oh, bother!”
“I’ve got her, my lady,” Harry said, scooping down to pick up the Cocker Spaniel puppy Granny rescued two weeks ago. He wrestled the fabric out of her mouth, and Esmerelda barked her little yappy noises at him in displeasure. “If I may be bold, perhaps a puppy isn’t the best choice, given your age.”
“What are you yammering on about, dear?” Granny took Esmerelda from his arms. The puppy panted, looking happily at Granny’s face. “She’s meant for me. She was born the day we lost our Judy. She visited me in a dream, you know.”
Yes.
We all knew.
Nana had come to her in a dream like some angel from heaven with a divine revelation and told her to go and get this little caramel-coloured puppy.
Did any of us believe her? No. Not for a single second. But her reasoning meant we also couldn’t say no.
Not that anyone could say no to her.
Case in point: my ongoing marriage.
“Then hire a proper dog trainer.” Fred’s voice rang through the room, and I turned to see him leaning against the doorframe, arms folded across his chest. “And a dog walker, preferably. She’s so full of beans. She almost tripped one of the housekeepers earlier.”
“Esmerelda,” Granny scolded her. “We’ve talked about this.”
I wasn’t sure dogs could listen to reason, but whatever.
“Don’t talk to it,” Fred said. “Train it.”
“That ‘it’ is your aunt!”
“I am not referring to a dog as my aunt. It’s bad enough I have a miniature cow as my de-facto daughter.”
“Hey, leave Spice out of this.” I covered the cow’s ears. “Don’t let her find out we aren’t her real parents. It’ll break her hairy little heart.”
Fred blinked at me. “She’s in my living room again.”
“Of course, she is. I’m her mother.” I held her up and grinned at him. “I brushed her hair. Doesn’t she look pretty?”
“Moo,” said Spice.
He licked his lips, saying nothing.
“Rude.” I hugged her close to me and frowned at him. “You’re supposed to tell her that she looks lovely.”
“I’m wondering when my house turned into an animal rescue,” he replied. “Isn’t Spice supposed to be moving outside now?”
“No.” I pressed my face into her hair and peered up at him. “Don’t take her from me.”
“She’s a cow. Cows don’t live inside, wife.”
“Dogs didn’t once upon a time,” Granny crooned, rocking Esmerelda in her arms. “And here we are.”
I nodded vigorously.
“Don’t give her ideas,” he said, turning to Harry. “Why is the cow still inside?”
He cleared his throat. “We tried to move her two days ago, my lord, but you see… The countess wouldn’t let us.”
Fred rubbed his hand down his face with a deep sigh and walked over to me. “Delilah, we talked about this.”
“She’s a house cow!” I insisted, scooting back with Spice still in my lap. “She’s even house trained now!”
He stilled and looked back at Harry. “She house trained a cow? What the hell has been happening here while I’ve been away?”
Harry took a deep breath and sighed it out. “Yes, my lord. It seems that you can train miniature cows to use a bathroom, much like a puppy.” He eyed Esmerelda. “Although some are smarter than others.”
“See!” I said, letting Spice get off my lap when she wriggled in my arms. “You can’t kick her out when she has better toilet habits than Esmerelda.”
Granny gasped. “Don’t rat my baby out like that!”
“Sorry, Granny, it’s every woman for herself out here.” I shrugged.
Fred held up a hand and pinched the bridge of his nose. I could practically see the exasperation coming off him in waves.
“How the fuck did you house train a cow?” he asked.
“Same as a puppy, like Harry said,” I replied. “It’s only taken two weeks.”
“Is that what you were doing before I left?”
“Yes. Spice is a genius, but even geniuses take a while to learn where to pee, Fred.”
He looked at me, hitting me with his bright blue gaze. “She’s a cow.”
“She’s a house cow,” I retorted.
“Let’s go, Esmerelda,” Granny whispered loudly. “Let them have their marital spat in peace. Come on, Harry.”
“This isn’t a marital spat,” I called after her. “That would imply an argument, and we all know I’m going to get my own way!”
“No,” Fred said, sitting on the sofa and looking down at me. “I’m not giving in this time. Spice is a cow. Cows live outside.”
“She’s an abandoned mini cow who only knows me as her mother after your favourite cow rejected her at birth. How cruel are you to throw her out? Would you throw out our child?”
“No, because our child wouldn’t be rejected. Neither would our child have four hooves and moo.”
“It’d live around cows. It’s definitely gonna moo.”
“That’s not—bloody hell,” he muttered, sitting back. “The answer is still no, Delilah.”