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It Runs in the Family

Chapter 6

Howlester had an immense upstairs balcony where Duchess Victoria and Duke Verneus used to take tea in the days long before Jonathan was born. Jonathan and Charles were sitting on said balcony in the bright hours of the morning, listening to the birdsong and to the distant melody of the piano that floated upstairs from the open windows. Jonathan's daughter Robin was at her instruction, and at the age of twenty, played very well. Corene would be in the parlor, proudly watching their daughter play with her heavily jeweled paws in the lap of her skirts, and Duke Richard would be holding audiences in the throne room. As he stood to inherit the duchy, Jonathan had started holding court with his father in Charles' place. But today . . . he just couldn't. Besides . . . he liked being with Charles.

"No court today, my boy?" Charles observed, not looking up from his book. His glasses were perched on the tip of his nose, and the sunlight reached through the lenses.

Jonathan glanced at Charles and smiled. He had heard so many stories about Duke Verneus from his father, that he looked over at Charles, who was sitting across from him at the table, and he thought Charles embodied Duke Verneus, his late father, to a T. Like Duke Verneus before him, Charles had aged finely in the last twenty years, with only a few wrinkles around his gentle eyes. He moved slower, grew tired much faster, and was often given to fanning himself with his kerchief. He still wore his long white mane in an immaculate tale and was still soft-spoken, concerned, and kind.

And he was still Jonathan's favorite person.

Before Jonathan could answer, Brooke came forward and refilled his tea. Jonathan tried to ignore the sweet smell of the maid and her long shimmering golden mane. Brooke was one of the few loyal servants who had stayed on at Howlester, and though Jonathan knew she owed his father a great deal, he was still very surprised. Brooke was nervous and cowardly as a squirrel. After the attack on the manor, he was certain she'd be the first to resign for work in a place that didn't hold such terrible memories. And indeed, she seemed heartbroken for many years after the attack. After ten years of despair, she married a young boy from town, someone who had also lived through the attack on the duchy and could commiserate. The boy's name was Henry Fenton, and Charles hired him on after discovering that foxes had burned down his family's farm - with his family inside. Now little Brooke was Mrs. Brooke Fenton and had a ten-year-old son named Henry Jr. Jonathan couldn't believe it. He had always looked at Brooke and seen a frightened child. But he thought of Corene and asked himself what the difference was. Corene was a frightened child. And he was still head-over-tail in love with her. To his great misfortune.

Jonathan frowned as he listened to the piano music growing stronger and more intense. Robin's playing had become very passionate of late. He was starting to wonder if she wasn't lonely, if there wasn't perhaps some boy she was longing for. He had done his utmost to guard her virginity, but for all his trouble, it seemed he needn't have bothered. Robin didn't show the slightest interest in any of the suitors who came to the manor. It was both relieving and troubling at once.

"Is everything alright, m'lord?" Brooke said to Jonathan and cast a critical eye over him.

Jonathan lazily waved away her concern. "Bring me something strong to put in this tea, will you?" he muttered. "And where the bloody hell is Ben? I want my horse prepared. I'm going into town."

"I'll find him, m'lord. Right away," Brooke said calmly. She set down the teapot and turned from the balcony.

Jonathan watched from the corner of his eye as Brooke's tail swayed with her hips. After giving birth to her son, she'd developed such deliciously nice hips. And a nice plump ass. Sometimes he'd notice it as she was on her knees scrubbing floors. Such a nice ass. He wished he could say the same for Corene. Corene seemed to grow thinner after Robin was born. As if she was shriveling up and preparing to blow away like a leaf.

"You shouldn't have sent her," Charles muttered, turning a page. "We're short staffed as it is."

Jonathan shrugged moodily as he slipped a flask from inside his coat and tipped a bit of liquor into his teacup.

It had been twenty years since the attack on Howlester, and yet they were still short of staff. So many had died on Howlester's grounds during the assault that the rumor quickly spread of Howlester being haunted. The superstitious and deeply religious dared not set foot where wicked fox blood had spilled. The dukes of Howlester holding open support for the king of Varimore also didn't help matters. Etienne banned the Hunt, Charles and Richard openly concurred, and after the vicious assault on Howlester Duchy, the dogs who had survived the attack were outraged that their dukes were defending the very creatures who had murdered, pillaged, and raped them.

As a result, Howlester Manor was all but empty of servants. Half the guards were killed during the attack, and there were close to nil willing to join the duchy's forces in its wake. On top of backing the king's ban on the Hunt, Howlester Manor still had a female captain of its guard, which was still very offensive to the public. Estica and Marvene were still serving at the manor with pride, with Estica now known as "Captain Shackley," and Jonathan was pleased to observe their growing lack of irresponsibility. They quickly learned to start putting their duties before their desire to be together, and as a reward for their renewed efforts, Charles gave them longer holidays.

Catching wind of their predicament, Duke Lucas Owen of Rorchester Fields sent Howlester a quarter of his own armed forces. He had become a good friend to Charles after the Kingsleys had taken refuge in his home twenty years before and was only too happy to do so. The soldiers arrived very shortly, and they were so obedient and dutiful toward Estica, Jonathan had the sneaking suspicion that Lucas Owen had ordered them (or paid them) to respect her without question. Estica seemed to have the same suspicion, as Jonathan overheard her exclaiming in frustration to Charles that she wanted to earn the respect of her soldiers.

The very thought of Lucas Owen still left a bitter taste in Jonathan's mouth. He, Corene, and Ben were guided by Motsumi and Palesa all the way through Kingdom Krodor and back to Varimore. The foxes left their charges on the edge of Rorchester Fields, where Jonathan was certain his family had taken refuge during the attack on the manor. Jonathan was sad to see the foxes go and was even a bit sad to see Wilmer going with them. Some foolish part of him had hoped they would return to Howlester with him. It was a long journey to Rorchester Fields, and during that journey, Motsumi, Palesa, and Wilmer . . . had become family.

But Wilmer and the foxes departed with the stone, the magical device that had allowed Princess Alexandria to blow up a carriage and burn off the side of a boy's face. Motsumi insisted on it, in fact. The stone was not safe "in dog lands," and he intended to take it far away, where the "Children of Ayni" could not find it. In fact, it was his duty as a Guide to protect said powerful artifacts from falling into the wrong paws. Jonathan wished him luck, and in return, Motsumi warned Jonathan to keep Corene safe from "the dog king." Should King Louis get his paws on Varimore, it would be the end of them, and their child might become the new puppet of Ayni.

Jonathan had been perplexed by Motsumi's words. He couldn't imagine why King Louis would do such a thing to the child when he seemed to believe it was his, and what was more, the king seemed to be acting from a desire to protect what was his. But he didn't have time to wonder. They arrived at the manor in Rorchester Fields, and while Jonathan was glad to discover his father, Charles, Hadly, Brooke, and Myles all there, he was shocked to discover Lucas Owen had married Elsie and made her the new duchess of Rorchester.

Absolutely shocked. Jonathan entered the audience chamber with Corene and Ben, and his mouth fell open to see Elsie sitting beside Lucas on a throne, glittering with jewels, wrapped in a beautiful gold gown, her brown and white face smirking. Jonathan could tell she had overdressed just to make an impression on him. And it worked._Until that moment, he never thought Elsie could be so poised and beautiful. Or so _mean.

They stayed in Rorchester for several weeks, letting the aftermath of the recent fox incursion die down, and during that time, Elsie was absolutely horrid to Jonathan. But she was horrid in such a subtle, masterfully hidden way that Jonathan had to applaud her even as he hated her. Apparently, her husband Lucas had no idea she used to sleep with Jonathan. During every meal, she dropped little hints and made many allusions as to their past relations that mocked Jonathan's skill in bed, and while Lucas didn't have a clue what she was referring to, Jonathan and Corene were fully aware. There were many meals when Corene suddenly broke down crying and no one understand why when she ran from the table. No one except Jonathan, who glared across the table at Elsie while she smiled innocently at him.

When Elsie wasn't tormenting Corene, she was mocking Jonathan that her rank had surpassed him. She insisted that he call her "your grace" or "Duchess Elizabeth Rowena Owen" or nothing at all. He had no choice but to kiss her rings and acknowledge her as a lady, though he did so through his fangs each time.

On top of taking his medicine from Elsie, Jonathan had a horrible argument with Charles and his father. Corene let the cat of the bag when she told Charles and Richard that Jonathan had actually left Howlester during the attack to come and find her. Richard was furious his son had abandoned Charles and berated him in the middle of supper as everyone looked on wincing. Charles rose from the table and quietly left the room . . . and didn't speak more than a word to Jonathan for weeks.

Jonathan felt so terrible that he got drunk for more than half their stay at Rorchester and wound up being lectured good-naturedly by a very concerned Lucas. Lucas politely told Jonathan that he couldn't accept such behavior in his home. Jonathan looked at Lucas over his glass of brandy and calmly informed him that he had fucked every nasty crevice on his wife's skinny body. Lucas immediately punched Jonathan out flat. The resulting fight left Jonathan sprawled on the floor with a bloody mouth, as Corene knelt beside him weeping, as Charles and Richard and everyone in the manor burst in the room to find out what was going on. Needless to say, the Kingsleys did not stay at Rorchester Fields very long after that.

When they returned to Howlester Manor, Jonathan defiantly married Corene, ignoring his father's vehement protests. Richard and Corene hated each other like cats hated water, and the fact that Corene was pregnant with a child that probably wasn't even Jonathan's only made Richard more adamant that his son should let Corene go. But Jonathan loved Corene and couldn't imagine it was possible to simply "send her away," and he told his father that he didn't care if the child wasn't his. He would make the child his. As Charles had claimed him.

Richard was as stubborn as his son and did not attend the wedding. But Charles attended and was kind enough to give Corene away during the ceremony. The two were married in the garden, under the stars, even as the duchy whispered and gossiped. To marry a pregnant bitch was beyond scandalous: a highborn female wasn't supposed to have _sex_before her marriage, let alone a _pup._And with so many scandals surrounding Howlester, Jonathan knew his reign as duke was going to be hell one day. If life wasn't hell already.

The morning Robin was born, she looked nothing like Jonathan. Or Corene, for that matter. Jonathan was a red and white foxhound and Corene was a fluffy white spaniel. Robin was a terrier. Her entire body was covered in pale pink fur that quickly turned to a dark and rich red as it grew. Her head sprouted a thick mane of curly red hair. Her eyes were silver as the moon, slanted, and eerily beautiful, so that she looked like a creature from another world. And she was definitely not the right breed to belong to Jonathan.

Corene was terrified when they put the pup in her arms, terrified that Jonathan would divorce and disown her. After hours of strenuous labor, her fur was matted with sweat and she was panting, her white mane was disheveled, and she looked at Jonathan as she held the child, waiting miserably for his anger.

Charles was there as well, dabbing his tears with a kerchief at the beauty of it all. He poked Jonathan in the back and told him to go and hold his daughter. Jonathan didn't think he could move. He wasn't angry. He was afraid. Just like Corene. Until the moment the child was born, it had never really hit him that he was going to be a father.

Charles poked Jonathan in the back again and he took a stumbling step toward the bed. Corene was still watching him anxiously as he came to the bedside. His eyes softened when he looked at the tiny pup, who was smacking her lips sleepily in the sunlight. He gathered her carefully in his arms, and when a robin began to sing outside, he smiled and said to Corene, "Let's call her Robin."

And they were happy for a while.

Jonathan loved Robin like his own, and more often than not, he was the one bouncing Robin on his knee, teaching her to walk, tickling her and playing with her, even as Corene lay in bed, weighed down by postpartum depression. Little Robin would stand over Corene and ask her what was the matter, and Corene would roll over and sob into the pillow. As the years passed, Corene slowly got worse, until one day, they found a suicide note. Jonathan was fast enough to chase Corene down in Crinnington, where he found her preparing to jump off a cliff.

After the incident, the two of them grew further apart, and as their love struggled to sustain itself, Jonathan knew Robin blamed herself everyday, and everyday, he told her it wasn't her fault. "Your mother's a nutter," he'd tell her if he was drunk. Or "Your mother's a bird with a broken wing," he'd tell Robin if he was sober.

Now that Robin was twenty years old, Corene seemed to be doing much better. She got out of bed. She left their bedroom. She drank a lot less. And she even slept with Jonathan and showed him affection from time to time. But the pain of her life was still there - the murder of her parents, her brutal rape, her long abuse at the paws of Donica, the murder of Flavia, and the constant fear that King Louis was still coming for them. It was a mental burden she would bear all her life. Jonathan had offered again and again to carry it for her. If only she would let him.

"We hired a new butler the other day," present-day Jonathan complained as he tucked the flask away. "We're not that short."

Charles set down his book and quietly closed it. "About that," he said, removing his spectacles to peer at Jonathan.

"Uncle Charlie --" Jonathan began irritably, but Charles held up his paw.

"I've seen the way Davin looks at you," Charles said gravely, "and I think it's time to nip that one in the bud before someone gets hurt. I would hate to dismiss the lad, and Corene has enough strain --"

"Since when do you and Father care about Corene's feelings?" Jonathan demanded in disgust and poured honey in his tea.

Charles frowned. "I have always_cared for that poor girl," he said seriously. "As much as I care for you and your marriage. It's barely hanging by a _thread. I'll not sit by while it falls apart."

"Too late, Uncle Charlie," Jonathan muttered into his cup and took a sip.

Charles made an aggravated noise. "So much like your bloody father. D'you know Richard used to cheat on me?"

Jonathan avoided Charles' glinting eyes.

"With the help, no less. It's how you bloody got here."

Jonathan glowered at his tea. He'd heard this before from his mother. Sarah had attended his wedding. She also came soon after Robin was born. She had been an active part of Jonathan's life for twenty years, writing him letters and visiting with him on holiday. She was very excited about being a grandmother and didn't seem to care at all that Robin wasn't Jonathan's child by blood. Sarah brought Robin presents and doted on her and loved her as her own. Robin loved Sarah in turn and talked about her constantly.

Redwick was one of the many locations attacked during the fox incursion, and Sarah lost her husband to a fox's spear. She seemed so lonely that Jonathan asked her to move to Howlester, but she politely declined, and she had been at such odds with Richard during every visit - who had caught her more than once having sex with Haskell -- it was more than obvious why.

"You're the best thing that came of Richard's infidelities," Charles went on and his voice softened as he looked at Jonathan was gentle love in his eyes. He frowned. "But it hurt very deeply each time he betrayed me with another. Imagine what it does to Corene," he waved an angry paw, "every time you trot off to the brothel. Imagine what it does to Robin. The girl isn't stupid, Jonny. She knows."

Jonathan blinked guiltily at his tea. "I'll . . . talk to Davin," he muttered.

Charles was about to reply when Hadly entered the room behind them. She glanced around, spotted them on the balcony, and came their way. She appeared to be carrying the post.

Jonathan glanced up from his tea, and for the first time in his life, he was glad to have Hadly interrupting his time alone with Charles.

Hadly was yet another loyal servant who had stayed on at Howlester. Soon after they returned from Rorchester, she married the manor's head chef, the Dalmatian Myles. Jonathan was very unhappy about the marriage. He tried to talk Hadly out of it, and when that didn't work, he tried to get Myles fired, and when that didn't work, he sulked in his room. He wound up getting drunk at the wedding and threatening Myles that he had better take good care of Hadly. His offensive, drunkenly slurred toast nearly ruined the ceremony, but then he passed out and woke up in his room, and Corene told him that everyone was much happier in his absence. She kept him there all afternoon, and lost in her soft, curvy embrace, he stopped caring about the wedding.

Hadly and Myles never had children, and Jonathan was glad. He was convinced that a pup from their two vastly different breeds would have been a mongrel. But at the same time, he thought it was a shame. A little more weight would have added curves to Hadly's already-ample curves.

After twenty years, Hadly looked pretty much the same, with only a few lines around her mouth and eyes. These days, she wore her long chocolate brown mane smoothed back in a matronly bun. Her chocolate tail swayed with her round hips as she approached the table with the post and placed it in a neat pile near Jonathan's saucer.

"Master Charles, Master Jonathan," Hadly said with soft dignity and folded her paws over her apron, standing ready to carry away what letters were to be discarded.

"Thank you, Hadly," Charles sighed and turned over the first letter. He paused.

Jonathan glanced at Hadly's great breasts and smirked, thinking to himself, Myles, you lucky prick.

Hadly glowered at Jonathan's smirking. She looked at Charles, who was staring at the letter. "Master Charles? What's the matter?"

Charles cleared his throat. "It's from Etienne."

Jonathan twisted his mouth irritably. "So?" Was a letter from Etienne always a reason to stop the entire effing world? He gestured for Hadly to pour him more tea. She stiffened irritably at the silent command but obeyed with tight lips. Jonathan knew she hated the casual way in which he often ordered her about. He'd been doing it more than ever since her marriage to Myles.

Charles opened the letter, placed his spectacles back on his nose, and scanned the first lines, as Hadly leaned over the table and filled his cup for him as well. "Thank you, Hadly," Charles murmured and set the letter down. He stared past the balcony railing, out across the grounds.

"Well?" Jonathan demanded, his lip curling. "Is His High and Mightiness in desperate need of more advising?" He took a bitter sip from his teacup. "I always said Etienne was thick. _You_ought to be wearing the bloody crown, Uncle. You've got a nicer head. Etienne's is full of piss and stale crackers."

Hadly stood back and folded her paws over her apron again, but she gave Jonathan a searching look that almost made him pause. He leaned on his armrest and looked out across the grounds, ignoring her shrewd stare. For many years now, he'd had the terrible suspicion that Hadly knew about him and Etienne. Their one-time incident in the manor wasn't widely known, as Richard had sworn Elsie and all other witnesses to secrecy. But in the wake of old Milly's passing, Hadly had become head maid of the manor, and therefore, had become the manor's eyes and ears: there was nothing she didn't know. Anytime Jonathan showed bitterness toward Etienne, she didn't waste the opportunity to lift an imperious brow and give him a wise stare.

"Etienne is throwing a ball," Charles said, lifting his teacup for a sip.

"Whoopty do," Jonathan muttered, peering with narrowed eyes at the distant clouds. It looked like rain.

"This is serious, Jonny," Charles said heavily. "Zeinara likes females."

"Oh my," Hadly gasped.

"And it seems there's a plot to reveal this to the entire kingdom," Charles went on. "Etienne sounds terrified. And I don't blame him. His letter was written in code. That's how afraid he is."

"So we've been cordially invited," sang Jonathan tonelessly, "to help Etienne scramble to keep that thing that runs in the family under wraps."

Charles glanced at Jonathan irritably. "Don't make light of this all-too-serious predicament, my boy. I would not condemn such a young girl with the scorn your father and I have endured. The hatred she would face would not come from one duchy but an entire kingdom. And it doesn't help that she carries the curse of her father's Emerald blood. Emeralds don't tend to live very long when they challenge social norms." He stared sadly at his tea.

"And yet there's always one on the throne," Jonathan muttered. He waved a lazy paw. "Emeralds are everywhere. They fuck like rabbits."

Charles frowned. "Jonathan."

Jonathan glanced up to find Charles and Hadly glaring at him. He dropped his eyes listlessly to his empty cup. "Pft. It's true."

"It's also insensitive," Hadly scolded him and gathered his empty teacup and saucer briskly and angrily. She looked at Charles. "Shall I bring your lap desk, my lord?"

"No, no," sighed Charles. "I'll go over to the study in a moment. Etienne should hear back from me immediately."

"Very well, your grace," Hadly said and inclined her head to the duke. She gathered the empty teacups and saucers on a tray and was preparing to carry them away when Jonathan called her back.

"Tell Davin to come up here, would you?" Jonathan told her.

"Very well, my lord," Hadly said and turned from the room.

"You must be firm with Davin," Charles said when Hadly had gone.

"What are you going to do about our little Etienne Jr.?" Jonathan asked to change the subject. He leaned back in his chair, almost slouching, his weight on his arm as he idly rubbed his index finger against his thumb. He had to keep reminding himself that Zeinara wasn't little anymore. The last time he'd seen her was at a birthday party Etienne threw at Wychowl for her. Zeinara had been turning ten years old. Jonathan ruined the gift opening when he made a few inappropriate drunken comments that led to a bickering match with Corene. Naturally, Etienne stopped inviting them to birthday parties after that. And feeling very hurt regardless, Jonathan refused to attend what functions they were invited to and refused to allow Corene and Robin to attend as well.

"Etienne has asked for Robin specifically. He wishes her to act as chaperon to Zeinara and keep her away from Princess Ethelyn, the girl she's in love with. I'm hesitant to send Robin into the thick of Wychowl politics, but she's a clever girl." Charles sighed and peered off across the grounds. "It's simply amazing how history, how genetics just repeat again and again. I remember thinking there was so _much_of Evelyn in Etienne. But there is so much of Evelyn in Zeinara as well. Evelyn was banished for loving a female." He glanced at Jonathan, who was listening wearily. "I told you that, didn't I?"

"A thousand bloody times," Jonathan muttered under his breath.

Charles frowned. "What was that?"

"No," Jonathan lied and didn't look at the duke. "You never told me that, Uncle."

Charles looked out across the grounds again. "Before he made her a princess, King Bastian sentenced my sister to exile," he said sadly. "For lying to him, for pretending to love him when she was actually in love with a female. It was the scandal of the year. And then she had the gall to go live with foxes," he laughed, mocking those dogs who had been so astonished. "And that just took the cake."

"And she was also against the Hunt," Jonathan said tonelessly. He snorted. "Etienne really _is_his mother's pup."

"Look at the pot calling the kettle black," Charles scolded, and Jonathan shifted guiltily in his chair. "I know exactly what you're planning, Jonny. Davin will come up here. You'll tell him the two of you have to stop. But, of course, you'll sleep with him one last time thinking you can get away with it --"

"No, Uncle Charlie, don't be absurd!" Jonathan complained at once, though he knew he was lying through his fangs.

"-- and eventually, Corene will have had enough," Charles continued scolding, "and all of it will blow up in your face. And I won't pick up the pieces this time, Jonny," he said angrily, his nostrils flaring. "I won't run to Corene and comfort her. I'll just let the two of you crumble. Perhaps her finally leaving you is the only way you'll learn." With that, he rose from the table and quietly left.

Jonathan moaned. He leaned his elbows on the table and rubbed his paws over his eyes as he listened to Charles going out the door. How was he going to survive this ball? Because of course he had to go if Robin was going. He had to chaperon her, posture and keep the young males at bay even as he hunted for a suitor. It had been desperately difficult to find a suitor for Robin. Even while she was beautiful and intelligent, she was also as mad as her mother and considered an illegitimate mongrel to boot. One only had to look at her to see she didn't belong to Jonathan. And sometimes Jonathan would walk into a room and catch her talking to herself.

Then there were those damned foxes Etienne and his merciful heart just had to keep at Wychowl. Jonathan leaned back in his chair and scowled. The first time he saw Mogethis lurking in the shadows of the ballroom, he nearly dropped his wineglass. That Etienne had allowed that creature and her brother to live after everything they'd done flabbergasted him. Later when he was at home at Howlester, he ranted in disbelief to Hadly and felt a little vindicated when she actually agreed with him. They never agreed about anything, so the fact that they agreed about Mogethis and Nkwe meant something to him.

But Etienne turned a deaf ear to Jonathan's protests - or else laughed and cracked some stupid joke that was meant to deter him from the subject. So Jonathan gave up, but he kept his daughter well away from the creatures and kept a sharp eye on them both. Mogethis especially. He had the sick feeling Mogethis would not have hesitated to slit his throat if she could get away with it. He thought of that day at Howlester when he interrogated her, a day that seemed so long ago now. Her "Children of Yfel" were on their way to slaughter everyone in the manor in an attempt to capture Etienne. She taunted him that he would die as well, that she would wear his penis for a necklace. So he yanked her dress up and raped her. She was so tight, he had to wonder just how often she'd had a male there. And when he looked at her face as they rocked against the bed, it was twisted with hatred, and the same hatred had been there every time he visited Wychowl.

And even if Jonathan didn't have to contend with Mogethis, there was still her furious brother, who always looked on the verge of strangling him anytime he went anywhere near Zeinara.

And how could Jonathan forget Elsie, who was likely to make an appearance at the ball on the arm of her boring goody-two-shoes husband? He couldn't decide if he hated Lucas because he had Elsie or because he was frustratingly handsome or both. He slumped in his chair, wishing he had a real drink. The little flask in his coat was half-empty.

As if his thoughts had summoned her, Brooke appeared with a decanter, her golden mane flowing long around her. She set the decanter on the table, set a glass beside it, and poured a drink for Jonathan with the expertise her years of pouring had afforded her.

Jonathan was glad to see the glass was already filled with ice chips. "About time," he muttered and lifted the glass for a drink. "Where the hell is Ben?" The ice clinked as he tipped the glass back.

Brooke blushed to her hairline.

"Ah," Jonathan said wearily. "With Hanna again."

"Yes, m'lord," Brooke whispered. "Will that be all, m'lord?"

Jonathan stared at her breasts poking through her apron and licked his lips. "What if I asked you to take everything off but your apron?"

Brooke averted her eyes. "I shall excuse myself, m'lord. I'm expected back in the k-kitch --" She sputtered to silence when he laughed at her.

"No, you're not," he laughed. "You're such a bad liar." His hips shifted as his rubbed his paw down his thigh, and Brooke could see he was hard in his breeches. Her lashes fluttered and she tried to step back, but he placed his paw on the small of her back.

"Mmm, your ass is nice. I'd like to have my face there."

Brooke blushed angrily when his hungry paw slid down and squeezed her backside. "My lord!" she squealed and slapped Jonathan across the face so hard, his glass flew from his paw and shattered on the floor.

Jonathan listened listlessly as Brooke marched out the door, mane and tail streaming.