Abandoned to the Prodigal - Mary Lancaster Page 0,15

into her valise and rummaged before coming out with a length of blue velvet ribbon. It was of a favorite shade and never worn, but she suspected Daniel’s need was greater. “Would this do?”

“It’s a bit fine for Gun.”

“I don’t need it,” she assured him.

He took it with a grin of thanks, and as the chaise slowed, he proceeded to tie it around the dog’s neck with a stout knot.

The carriage came to a halt at the Myerly cross-roads. From here, she could see the rather grim house through the neglected, overgrown grounds. She and her siblings had used to scare each other quite deliciously with made-up stories about this eerie house and Baron Miserly, who lived there.

Juliet held out her hand to the baron’s grandson. “Goodbye, Mr. Stewart.”

He shook it. “Goodbye, but I wish you wouldn’t be so formal.”

“Daniel,” she corrected. After all, she had already called him by his Christian name once.

“Dan is better.” He released her hand with a smile and jumped down. Gun leapt after him with great excitement, almost pulling Daniel—Dan—off his feet, and then skidding to a halt and sitting as he felt the unfamiliar pull of his velvet leash.

Juliet laughed, and Dan, grinning, swept off his hat in a hasty bow before the chaise lurched forward again, and she lost them both from view. She was still smiling as she sat back and longed for home. There were still good people in the world, and Dan was right. Her family would support her.

*

Dan had begun his journey from London, gritting his teeth in order to do his duty. But as he strode along the road, with Gun alternately tying himself in knots, sitting down in bafflement and lunging excitedly in random directions, he found he was grinning to himself.

Of course, he should not have kissed Juliet Lilbourne for any reason, and he knew it as soon as he had given into temptation. Hence his insistence that it had been a friendship kiss.

It hadn’t. Or at least, not entirely, but that way led to danger, and he would take better care of his wayward impulses in the future. Not that he regretted kissing her, for she was soft and sweet and smelled delightfully of flowers, but she was a little too heady for the senses of a prodigal young man with no prospects.

Still, he liked her, and he had hope they could continue their friendship and bolster each other’s spirits through what was bound to be a difficult period for both of them.

To his surprise, the Myerly gates were open, and he didn’t have to bang and shout to be let in, as had happened the last time he’d come. He walked on up the drive, noticing as he drew nearer the forbidding old house that at least half the shutters were open. Normally, the place looked deserted, with the poor servants having to scuttle about in the semi-gloom to fulfill the wishes of their cantankerous lord.

Perhaps the old devil had cheered up. Perhaps he would even speak to his daughter. Or visit his neighbors, like Lord Cosland over at Hornby Park.

Walking across the weed-strewn terrace, he straightened his shoulders and drew Gun to heel by his velvet leash. He knocked loudly at the door, for most of the servants were old and deaf.

To his surprise, the door was opened almost immediately by Griffin, the ancient butler, who beamed with genuine pleasure and flung the door wide. “Mr. Dan! That is welcome, Mr. Stewart, come—”

With a joyful bark, Gun tore his leash free of Dan’s too-careless hand and dashed past Griffin, who flattened himself against the door in terror.

“Oh, the devil,” Dan said ruefully. “Sorry, Griffin, he wouldn’t deliberately hurt a fly, but he is clumsy as a bear. Hold on, I’ll catch him.”

Dan loped after the dog in the direction of the kitchen, but Gun suddenly swerved, went up on his hind legs to push open the door of the breakfast parlor, and bounded inside.

“Trapped him,” Dan said with satisfaction, for his grandfather never used the parlor. He always had his breakfast in bed. However, a feminine shriek mingled suddenly with the unmistakable sound of breaking crockery, and a male yell.

Assuming Gun had startled the servants with an over-enthusiastic introduction, Dan followed, a casual apology on his lips, and stopped dead.

The room seemed full of people, but they were not servants. Two aunts and a cousin around the breakfast table had sprung to their feet in alarm. Gun stood halfway between the table