and together, they could do anything.
But Lord Barden took the floor, drawing all eyes, although to Juliet suddenly, he looked more like a stage villain than a real threat. Mrs. Stewart released Gun’s leash, and the dog trotted happily up to Dan and Juliet. She patted his big head, and he gratefully licked her hand while she regarded Lord Barden with only faint interest.
“I believe you know and understand the power I wield in society,” Barden said. “You would be ill-advised to throw that away on a passing fancy for a handsome face. Even Catesby would be better than him, you know. But neither will bring you the…salvation that I will. Tell her, Cosland.”
Her father was scowling. “Look, Juliet, I know, I understand why you are doing this, but truly it is not the way out. Barden is your best hope of recovery in society, although if you would rather Jeremy, I have already agreed, I will respect that.”
“I have chosen Dan.” She smiled. “And Dan has chosen me.”
“God help me, I shall be sick,” Barden muttered, and Juliet laughed, which seemed to throw him.
“No,” her father said firmly. “He will do you no good, Juliet. I will not allow it.”
“Then, I shall wait until I am twenty-one and marry him anyway.”
“Juliet,” her mother pleaded.
But Barden, clearly, had had enough. He took a step nearer her. “Stop playing games, you silly little girl,” he snarled. “You will marry me today or be ruined beyond all possibility of saving.”
Beside her, Dan stirred. “And you will see to that, will you?” he said gently. “Personally?”
Barden curled his lip, giving up all pretense. “Yes.”
Dan’s hand clenched, but before he could move, Juliet caught the dog’s head and pointed his nose straight at Barden in the center of the room. Dan paused, his breath catching as he realized what she was about.
“Gun,” she said happily. “Fire!”
She had no idea what would happen, or if the dog would obey someone other than Dan. But even if he just sat there, it would have been worth it, just for the suddenly terrified look on Barden’s face. However, Gun outdid himself.
With one of his brutally sudden barks, he shot out of her hands like a ball from a rifle, sending a side table flying in a hail of crockery and silver teaspoons. Dan’s aunts squealed.
Barden staggered backward in a futile attempt to escape, but Gun landed on him, with all four paws, bringing him down like a hunted deer.
Barden yelled. “Get it off, get it off me!”
Dan strolled forward. “Then you’ll withdraw your insolent offer of marriage and attendant threats?” he inquired casually.
Gun snarled, slavering over Barden’s throat.
“Dear God, Dan,” Mrs. Stewart said, awed. “I didn’t know he did that. Is he quite safe?”
“No, not really.” Dan smiled. “He’s a street cur, and he’s had no breakfast. In fact, I might have forgotten his dinner last night.”
“Very well, very well!” Barden screamed. “Get the monster off me, and I’ll agree to anything.”
Dan appeared to think about it while everyone watched him in fascination. “You’d better keep to it. Otherwise, he’ll find you. Enough, Gun.” Dan hauled the dog off. “Let him stand.”
As Barden staggered to his feet unaided, something fell from his coat. Dan picked it up, and Barden immediately snatched it from him.
“You’re welcome,” Dan said wryly. “What is so precious?”
Barden’s lips twisted angrily. “A special license that would have saved a lady’s reputation.”
“Instead of which, the dog appears to have saved it. But since you don’t need the license…”
Hastily, Barden whisked it out of the way, and Juliet, propelled by sheer mischief, plucked it away from him, just as the door opened, and Griffin announced Mr. Coates, the vicar, in an increasingly faint voice.
The vicar halted in mid-step, regarding the carnage open-mouthed. Gun wagged his tail and loped toward the new visitor, who backed toward the door.
Hastily, Dan caught the leash. “Sorry, sir. He’s quite harmless, really.”
“No, he is not!” Barden exclaimed in high, outraged tones. “The dog is an evil, dangerous cur that should be shot!”
The evil cur rubbed his head against Dan’s leg and wagged his tail. He looked as if he was smiling, and the vicar’s face softened visibly.
“Lord Myerly, I will bid you good day,” Barden said between his teeth.
“About time,” his lordship said, scowling. “Never asked you here in the first place.”
Barden bowed stiffly. “Sir, come with me,” he said to the vicar. “Your services are no longer required.”
“Dan, get him out of here!” Myerly roared suddenly. “How dare he