“I could have,” I replied. “But this was much more fun.” I continued dropping strawberries in a path behind me. I was feeling very Hansel and Gretel as we guided them back towards their field where they were supposed to be secure. “Oh, Alex, this is Miles. He’s the head gardener. Miles, this is my cousin, Alex, the Duke of Worcester.”

Miles nodded in his direction. “Nice to meet you.”

Wow.

At least he thought it was nice to meet someone.

Tosspot.

Two chains were wrapped around a thick metal post for this reason, and I grabbed them to attach them to the goats’ collars. “How did they even get out?”

Miles pointed to a broken fence. “There.”

I looked at it. It wasn’t just broken—it’d been smashed to smithereens by the two wrecking balls my aunt insisted were good pets. Wood had splintered and chipped all over the grass, and as far as keeping them contained went…

Well, a snowball had better chance in hell.

That fence was as useful as a fish with tits.

“They’re going to get right back out of that.” Way to state the obvious, Gabriella. “Can we fix it?”

Miles grunted. “Take a while.”

“Not long with the two of us, surely?” Alex asked, still shirtless. “Let me get some dry clothes and I’ll help you. Gabi, can you watch the goats for a minute?”

“Why do I have to?” I threw my hands up. “I have things to do!”

They both shot me a look that said they didn’t believe me.

I actually did have something to do, thank you very much. I had to find my wayward aunt.

“Someone has to do damage control.” I checked the chains were secure on the goats and stepped away. “I need to find Aunt Cat and try to fix this mess before Dad gets home and all hell breaks loose, so Alexander, you get changed, and Miles, you’ll have to—”

Muddy brown water splashed up and coated me, soaking through my dress. I gasped—it was horribly warm and sludgy, and my white floral dress was now a not-so-fabulous shade of brown.

Those bloody goats.

They’d deliberately stomped their feet in the water in a protest at being chained up, and I was the one who’d taken the hit. Me. The person who’d fed them extra strawberries and guided them in here nicely while those two had tried to round them up like cowboys at a rodeo.

Miles was as stony-faced as ever, but there was an amused twinkle in his eye that really pissed me off. Alexander didn’t even try to hide his amusement, and he was using what was left of the fence to hold himself up as he howled with laughter.

“I hate those bloody goats!” I stormed away from them, shaking my dress out to no avail.

“Where are you going?” Alex called after me.

I stopped, turning on my heels, and glared at him. My nostrils flared as I stared at the two men in front of me. “I’m going inside to shower and change. I’m not standing here covered in mud after I had to bail you two morons out of trouble back there! I don’t care what you do, just don’t let those stupid, godforsaken goats escape again!” I spun again, taking a shortcut path to a gate that would lead to the private gardens so nobody else would see me like this.