Laurie Benson - Mrs Sommersby’s Second Chance

‘How can I help?’ he asked, tilting his head a bit as he looked at her with a furrowed brow.

‘I’m stuck.’

‘Pardon?’

‘On the hedge.’ She motioned to her back with her gloved hand. ‘The lace on my dress is caught on a branch and I can’t move. Would you be so kind as to release me?’

He glanced around the small wooded area she was in and even appeared to peer over a few of the lower hedges as he made his way closer to her. When he stood a few feet away, the faintest scent of his cologne drifted across her nose as it travelled on the soft breeze.

Clara was petite in stature and had to look up at him as he stood less than two feet from her. Facing him, without the busyness of the Pump Room, she was able to get a better look at him. His firm and sensual lips rose a fraction in the right corner, softening the angles of his square jaw. Although he was clean shaven, there was a hint of stubble on that jaw and on his cheeks. She appreciated impeccably groomed men so it was surprising that she had the urge to brush her fingers against his skin to see what that stubble felt like.

He leaned over her and her breath caught as his lips drew closer to her eyelids. His finely made arms, defined through the linen of his blue coat, came around hers. He could have easily stood to the side of her to free the bit of fabric, but being surrounded by all his quiet masculine presence, she was glad he had decided not to.

‘You truly have got yourself caught.’

He looked down at her and flecks of gold were visible in his blue eyes. ‘I know I haven’t spent much time in your presence, however, this is the quietest I think I have seen you,’ he said with a slight smile.

‘I don’t want to distract you.’

‘You already have.’

She lifted her chin and now their mouths were a few inches apart. The warm air of his breath brushed across her lips. The last time she had kissed a man was ten years ago. And even then, she couldn’t ever recall her pulse beating like this at the thought of kissing her husband.

Just a few more inches and their lips would be touching. Just a few more inches and she would wrap her arms around his neck and let herself sink into his embrace.

His arms tightened around hers and she felt the tugging of the back of her dress. ‘I think I have it,’ he said, his breath caressing her lips.

So close, their lips were so close.

A loud yapping broke the moment and the gentleman she was thinking of kissing reeled back and it was then that she realised she was free. Free of the shrub and the spell that had been cast over her. Free of desires that left her forgetting where she was or the fact that she didn’t know who she was with.

She was a respectable widow and respectable women did not go around kissing gentlemen behind some shrubbery in a public park.

Humphrey’s small black and brown body was hidden within the bottom branches of the thick hedge beside her, but his little black head and brown ears were visible. He continued to bark at the gentleman who had come to her aid.

‘Where did you come from?’ He looked between the small dog and Clara. ‘You might want to step away. It doesn’t appear very friendly.’

‘It’s fine. He’s fine. He belongs to me.’ She looked down at Humphrey. ‘Now hush. The nice gentleman was helping me,’ she said to the creature who was responsible for this awkward encounter.

‘I don’t think he likes me.’

‘He just wants to get out from under the bush.’

The gentleman lowered himself to the heels of his top boots. The muscles of his thighs flexed in his cream-coloured breeches when his coat parted with his movement. He held his gloved hand out to Humphrey, but didn’t say a word, giving the dog the opportunity to sniff him.

‘He won’t go to you. He’s stuck in the bushes.’

‘He’s stuck, too?’

Clara held up the loop of Humphrey’s leash that was wrapped around her wrist, giving a slight tug to the bit of the red cord that was free of the tangled mess for him to see. Humphrey let out a series of barks as if he was trying to explain to the gentleman how it happened.

‘First your dress and now your dog’s leash? You two are quite a pair.’

‘If we are being precise, it was his leash first and then my dress.’

Lane stood up and strode towards her. ‘Can you untangle it?’

‘I had been trying to when my dress got caught. I wasn’t having much luck.’

‘Let me see if I can help.’ He squatted just out of Humphrey’s reach and then held out his hand to the puppy. ‘What have you done to yourself, little one?’

Instead of sniffing the gentleman’s hand, Humphrey appeared to try to explain how it had happened before lowering his head to his paws.

‘I see. Well, let’s free you from this mess so you and your mistress do not have to spend the night here.’ Humphrey looked up at him as he traced the red cord from the dog’s collar into the hedge and moved some of the branches around to study the tangled mess. ‘How did he do this?’ he asked, his attention still focused on untangling the cord.

‘I’m not sure. He was chasing a butterfly and the next thing I knew I was pulled practically into the bush.’

‘Your leash is too long. You need a shorter one.’ He motioned for her to hand him her end and then he worked it through the branches.

Not wanting to inadvertently get caught in the bushes again, Clara adjusted her blue shawl around her shoulders. ‘Do you think you will be able to free him or should we just untie the leash from his collar?’

‘I think I’ve got it. Just a few more twists... There, he is free.’

He handed her the end of the leash just as Humphrey let out a few barks before charging the gentleman’s leg and resting his paws on his knee. He was rewarded with some scratching behind his ears and Humphrey whipped his head around and licked the man’s hand.

‘No more chasing butterflies for you, young man.’

Humphrey gave an excited bark as if to say he agreed the adventure had not been worth it.

Clara took a step closer to them and prayed Humphrey would not embarrass her with more of his inappropriate displays. ‘Thank you very much for your assistance. I’m not sure what we would have done if you had not come along.’

‘Well, I’m just glad I did.’ He moved his hands to scratch Humphrey’s neck and the little dog wagged his tail.

‘Humphrey loves having his neck scratched. If you keep doing that, he won’t allow you to get up.’

He looked up at her. ‘Humphrey? This is Humphrey?’

‘That’s his name,’ she said, nodding.

‘Well, it’s nice to meet you, Humphrey.’ He held out his hand to the dog, with his palm up. ‘Can you shake?’

Humphrey barked and licked his hand.

‘Come now, gentlemen shake when they meet. Give me your paw.’

Humphrey barked again.

‘He doesn’t understand what you’re asking.’

‘Then we will teach him.’ He tapped Humphrey’s right paw. ‘Paw.’ He held his hand out to Humphrey. ‘Give me your paw.’

Once more Humphrey barked and a few more times the gentlemen tapped his paw and repeated the word.

Each time, Humphrey barked. But the last time when the gentleman held out his hand and requested his paw, Humphrey placed it in his hand. He closed his fingers around the little paw and gave it a small shake, while he scratched Humphrey’s neck with his other hand. The dog let out a series of happy sounds as if he was letting him know how proud he was that he learned a new trick. Then he looked at Clara with his big brown eyes and let out another bark.

‘Yes, I see. You’ve learned something new.’ She took a step closer as the gentleman gave one last pat to Humphrey’s head before standing up.