Abandoned to the Prodigal - Mary Lancaster Page 0,18

Dan retorted. “As you know very well, or you wouldn’t even be considering me as your heir.”

“Hah!” Lord Myerly said rudely. He regarded Dan thoughtfully. “I’ve asked the others, so I’ll ask you, too. I can’t do a thing about the title, or the entailed property at Fallow. That will go to some second cousin none of us have ever even met. But what should I do with this place? And the rest of my money?”

“Whatever you want. That’s what you’ll do, regardless of what I or anyone else says.”

“True. But it happens I want your opinion.”

Dan shrugged impatiently. “Divide it between your daughters.”

“Waste of good property.”

Dan regarded him. “See? You didn’t want my opinion.”

The old man scowled. “What the devil is that?”

That was the galloping footsteps and excited wheefling of Gun as he bolted upstairs and along the passage, his claws scratching dementedly on the floor as he slid.

Dan grinned, and the great beast galumphed through the door of the antechamber, where Waits clearly dropped something with a resounding clatter. Gun bounded into the bedroom and straight onto the bed, from where he threw his front paws onto Dan’s shoulders and enthusiastically licked his face.

By the time Dan shoved the dog off, his grandfather was howling with glee.

“I’ll say this for you, Dan, you’re not boring!”

Dan grinned, holding onto Gun’s neck to prevent him from squashing the old man.

Lord Myerly’s eyes glinted with malice. “And I’ll say this for the dog. I’ll bet he scares the devil out of your aunts and cousin.”

Chapter Five

Leaving the stately if avuncular Abbot to pay the post boy, Juliet ran up the steps and into the house she had always called home. Her mother was rushing across the hall, her cap askew.

Relief flooded Juliet. “Oh, Mama,” she said shakily, and flew to meet her.

But her mother’s arms did not so much embrace as drag her toward the marble staircase. “Oh, Juliet, where have you been? What have you done?”

“I haven’t done anything except leave London because I had nowhere else to go. Lady Alford has turned against me. Jeremy—”

“Yes, well, we shall talk about Jeremy in private. Did you post to Kidfield?”

“From Kidfield,” Juliet said cautiously, allowing herself to be swept upstairs. Her mother’s fingers digging into her arm warned her to stay silent until they reached her mother’s boudoir.

There, the countess released her and sank onto the chaise longue in the center of the room.

“What happened?” she demanded. “Were you with the princess?”

“The princess had gone,” Juliet said flatly. “Three other ladies and I were tricked into attending. At least I have to assume it was a trick. We didn’t discover Her Highness was not there until the next morning.”

“Dear God. You spent the night alone in that house without a chaperone? Please tell me you were not seen, that there was no orgy taking place under the same roof?”

Suddenly weary, Juliet sat beside her mother and dragged off her bonnet. “I may have been seen, but by no one who was sober enough to remember. I suppose the four of us chaperoned each other, but beyond that, no.”

Her mother took both her hands, squashing the bonnet on Juliet’s lap. “Julie, did anyone…any man insult you, hurt you?”

Juliet shook her head. “No, we locked ourselves in the sitting room next to the princess’s apartments in case we had to rush to her rescue. But no one came near us.”

“Well, thank God for that, at any rate,” her mother said, pressing her hands. “But oh, Juliet, how could you be so silly as not to know…”

Juliet blushed. “It was not unusual for Her Highness to have…private guests.”

“Oh, for the love of… I told your father I did not want you exposed to such matters, but he said you were all but engaged, and then, of course, you were engaged.”

“And now I’m not,” Juliet said flatly. “I was never more mistaken about anything or anyone than I was in my trust for Jeremy Catesby.”

“I know. He wrote your father the most insolent letter, kindly enclosing a so-called newspaper I would not use for night-soil.”

Juliet giggled, though of course, it was not really funny. Daniel Stewart’s irreverent humor seemed to have rubbed off on her.

Her mother didn’t appear to notice. “As for Maria Alford! When I think about what I have done for that woman in the past and how she has repaid me… How dare she turn you away from the door? Without even troubling to see how you would get home.” The countess