Abandoned to the Prodigal - Mary Lancaster Page 0,3

and his quarrel with the porter and instead hurled himself at the young man, jumping up to lick his face.

The man grinned and pushed him off. “Down, Gun,” he ordered with not very convincing severity before he turned a scowling face to the porter. “What’s going on? You know perfectly well he’s harmless.”

“Don’t you worry, sir,” someone in the crowd said, clearly entertained. “The young lady’s already told him off for kicking the beast.”

The young man’s gaze flickered to Juliet and away before it swept back for a longer look. Strangely restless dark eyes fixed on hers and held. For a moment, she had to remind herself to breathe, for despite his youth and somewhat bedraggled appearance, he was extraordinarily good looking. More than that, there was something imposing about him.

He nodded curtly and swung back to the porter. “I’ll thank you to keep your feet to yourself,” he snapped, bending to run his hands over the dog’s fur.

“You keep your dog to yourself, sir, and my feet will stay on the ground,” the porter said insolently and turned back to Juliet. “Kidfield, for madam. At eleven.” The crowd, seeing the fun had finished, began to disperse. The porter stared into her eyes and held out his hand. “Fifteen guineas.”

Juliet flushed to the roots of her hair. “B-but I only have ten,” she stammered, seeing even this last plan collapsing around her ears.

“You could have an outside seat,” the porter said grudgingly.

“She could have a seat there and back for ten,” the young stranger interrupted from behind them. He strolled forward, the dog at his heels. “And an inside seat at that.”

“Not with extras,” the porter said defensively. “I presume the lady wants to eat and have her bag taken care of.”

He made an angry grab for her valise once more.

But the stranger was quicker. “The lady will keep her bags for now. And she will pay you when you bring back the correct ticket.”

With a muttered curse, the porter strode away.

With no real idea what to do next, Juliet turned her attention to the dog, who had pushed his head under her hand and looked up at her, wagging his tail. She smiled just a little tremulously and stroked him, her fingers curling convulsively in his fur. Suddenly, she wanted to cry again.

“My thanks for looking after him,” the young man said. “I hope he hasn’t been annoying you, too.”

She glanced quickly up at him. Through her slightly blurred vision, he looked tall, dark, and very lean, his dress gentlemanly, but somewhat worn, his expression amiable now that the porter had gone. His stance, though casual to a fault, seemed quite unthreatening.

“Not in the least,” she replied. “That horrid porter kicked him, only for sniffing at his pockets. I hope he isn’t hurt.”

“No, he’s fine as far as I can see. He learned self-preservation before I ever knew him. Unfortunately, he’s a bit of a scavenger. He has eaten this morning, but I suppose old habits die hard. Do you have no friends with you, ma’am? Are you truly traveling alone?”

Juliet tried to look haughty. “I am, sir.”

He shrugged. “Fair enough.”

By then, the porter was striding back toward her. With ill grace, he held out his grubby hand with her ticket and waited for payment. Juliet opened her purse and placed the coins in his palm. His hand remained where it was, clearly expecting more.

“Really?” her new friend said softly, and with another muttered curse, the porter stormed off.

“He isn’t really the head porter at all, is he?” Juliet asked ruefully. “Is he even a porter?”

“Unofficially, perhaps, but either way, I don’t imagine he’ll last long.” With a quick grin, he tipped his hat, clearly about to walk away.

“Thank you, sir,” she said hastily. “I’m very grateful to you. I have never used the stagecoach before.”

The corners of his eyes creased as though he were amused. “I didn’t imagine you had.”

“Does everyone try and fleece you like that?”

“Oh, no. In fact, he probably wouldn’t have if you hadn’t annoyed him by scolding him over Gun. For that defense alone, I’m in your debt, and very glad to have been of any assistance.” He bowed, snapped his fingers to the dog, and strolled away. The dog trotted at his heels, leaving Juliet to her unsatisfied curiosity over both of them.

After a moment, she turned away and wondered if she dared go into the inn to find a safe place to wait for the coach. She walked the length of the