I put my hand atop his. "It's just an excuse for lots of pet dogs, isn't it? Not that that's not reason enough; I adore dogs."His left hand stayed on my thigh, sliding a bit higher; the other touched under my chin as he looked into my eyes. I met his gaze shyly. He was older than me by quite a bit, maybe fifteen years, with sharp features and a subtle smile that never quite went away. His hair and eyes were nearly black. "The hunt ban just means we have to get creative."I wasn't sure what he was getting at. "Anyway, I'm sure you have lovely foxhounds," I said, "I wish I could meet them. And I'll try to remember not to call them 'dogs' but you may have to remind me again. I may be somewhat tipsy.""Perhaps you should meet them," said Hector thoughtfully. He looked in the distance for a moment, then back at me. "Are you good at running, Miss Fox?" he asked."