Chapter 14

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Arabella returned to her room after lunch where she found the dog asleep in his basket, his nose buried into his stomach. As soon as she entered the room his head popped up and he gave a welcoming yip, hopping to his paws and scampering over to sniff her feet. He was about the size of a young spaniel, but he looked like a mix of a beagle and a terrier. Under the dirt he was white and brown with black ears and a black spot on his back. He looked up at her, wagging his tail happily, all signs of his previous trauma gone from his posture.

"Hello, there, you've caused quite a bit of trouble, haven't you?" Arabella crouched down, patting his mud crusted head. "I think it's time we gave you and a name and a bath, how does that sound?" The dog just rested his head on her knee, still looking up at her.

"Very well, let's go," she smiled and scooped him up once again, carrying him down the stairs and through to the back of the house where she assumed the kitchen was. She found it, tucked in the back right behind the dining room. It was spacious with a black and white tiled floor and the smell of freshly baked bread. It appeared that the rest of the servants had just arrived and in addition to the cook there were a scullery maid in the corner of the room, organizing large glass jars.

"The water basin is here your ladyship," the cook gestured to a metal tub full of water and soap suds.

"Thank you, do you have an apron I could borrow?" Arabella set the dog down and he instantly trotted up to the counter, looking around hopefully for food.

"Are you sure you don't want a footman to do this?" The cook asked, handing her a white apron.

"Quite sure thank you, and if you have food to spare for him that would be greatly appreciated."

"OF course," the cook hastened to find something for the pup and Arabella managed to catch the dog and place him in the tub where he splashed about happily, his ears flopping about.

With some difficulty and much gaiety, Arabella managed to wash him, the water turning a pale, unappealing brown once he'd been washed.

She pulled him up and, using a towel that Cook had kindly provided, she did her best to dry him, though he attempted to squirm away.

"What have you called the little fellow?" Cook asked, setting a plate of the leftover meat from lunch down.

"Not yet, what do you think he should be called?"

"I really couldn't say, it's not my place."

"Oh come now, you must have some ideas?"

"Well when I was a girl we had a puppy called Puck for he was mischievous and loved to hide and play, like the faerie in the story."

"Of course, that's a good name. Thank you...Oh, do forgive me, I don't even know your names!" Arabella blushed brightly.

"Oh don't worry about that your ladyship, I'm Mrs. Chadwick and this is Rosie," she pointed to the scullery maid who smiled, flushing.

"Very nice to meet you, I enjoyed lunch immensely so thank you."

"I am glad to hear it, once you've settled in I expect you'll have all sorts of good ideas for suppers and lunches."

Arabella had watched Isabella plan meals with their cook for years. She would sit and watch as every Monday, Isabella and the cook would meet to discuss the week's meals and she felt a pleasant tremor of excitement at the prospect of doing the same.

"Of course, I should like to start that. Perhaps tomorrow I can meet with you to discuss meals for the week?"

"Of course, thank you."

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