Sir Alistair was hunched down, scratching the dog under her chin. Abigail noticed that his hand was missing two fingers. She shivered in disgust. Maybe he hadn't heard them?
Jamie rubbed his nose. "She's a right nice dog."
The dog tilted her head and waved a great paw in the air as if she'd understood Jamie.
Sir Alistair nodded. "That she is."
"I've never seen one so big." Jamie began stroking the dog again. "What kind is she?"
"A deerhound," Sir Alistair said. "Her name is Lady Grey. My ancestors used hounds like her to hunt deer."
"Coo!" Jamie said. "Have you ever hunted deer with her?"
Sir Alistair shook his head. "Deer are rare in these parts. The only thing Lady Grey hunts anymore is sausages."
Abigail carefully bent and touched Lady Grey's warm head. She made sure to stay far enough away from Sir Alistair so that she didn't accidentally brush him. The dog licked her fingers with a long tongue. "She's still a nice dog, even if it's only sausages she hunts."