The Earl Claims a Bride (25 page)

“You win, I’m out,” Bray said to the fourth man at the table, an older gentleman, and the only one who’d played the entire night with them and had won as much as he had lost. Bray then looked at his friends and said, “And I’m ready to go find a bed anytime you two are.”

Harrison and Adam looked at Bray and grinned. “We’ve been ready for half an hour. We were waiting for you to get enough.”

“Well, let’s get our coats and go get our horses,” Bray said. “We have a fifteen-minute ride ahead of us.”

“It’s more like half an hour to my house,” Adam corrected.

“Damnation,” Harrison remarked. “Remind me why we rode so far to play a few hands of cards and drink a couple of tankards of ale?”

“Yes, why did we?” Bray added.

“Because it’s the nearest tavern to my house and you two were insisting we had to have a night away from the cottage.”

“You must move closer to the village,” Bray said, and clapped Adam on the back as they walked outside the tavern.

“Better yet,” Harrison said, “Why not come back to London with us?”

“That is a better idea, Adam,” Bray insisted. “Do it.”

“I have things here that need my attention,” Adam said in a tone that let them know arguing would do no good.

A cold wind whipped against the side of Harrison’s face as they stepped out of the tavern. They stood near the door pulling on their gloves and wrapping their scarves tighter about their necks. They were getting ready for the long walk to where they’d stabled their horses when they heard a man yell, the crack of a whip, and the pained yelp of a dog that sent blood curdling through Harrison’s veins.

The three of them looked at one another and then in the direction of the sounds. On the opposite side of the wide street stood a beefy shopkeeper holding a whip in his hand. A thin blond dog had been tied to a hitching post. Anger rose fast and furious inside Harrison. He was choking himself with the rope that held him, trying to get away from the man. The crack of the whip sounded again. Another yelp rent the air. Harrison shivered as he, Adam, and Bray rushed toward the animal.

The dog’s dirty white coat had two strips of blood about six inches long running across his back and shoulders and before they could get there, the man gave him another lash. Harrison thought of Angelina and how she tried to save dogs who’d been mistreated and neglected; he wanted to rip the whip from the man’s hands.

The shopkeeper was a large man. He wore a white apron over his wide girth. His shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows even though it was near freezing outside. Harrison saw that the man’s shop was a bakery, and there was no doubt the man enjoyed what he produced.

He wasn’t the kind of fellow Harrison wanted to tangle with but for beating the dog, he’d make an exception and do it anyway.

Adam was the first to speak as they approached the shop. “What’s the matter, mister?”

“This is the third day this whelp has been around stealing meat pies, trash, or anything else he can find around here,” he said. “I aim to see he doesn’t come back to my shop.”

Harrison looked at the shelving the man had put out to hold his baked goods. The dog was tall and thin, but still a puppy, he’d guess. Harrison didn’t know much about dogs but he looked to be at least part Pyrenees. He could easily jump up, put his front paws on the highest shelf, and help himself to a pie.

“Look at him,” Harrison said. “The dog is starving. You can’t blame him for taking the food. He doesn’t know it’s wrong.”

“He will when I get through with him,” the shopkeeper said, winding up the whip for another go at the dog.

“Why don’t you just move your shelves up so he can’t reach them?” Bray offered.

The man growled. “Get away from here, you troublemakers. I don’t need you three city knockers telling me what to do, and I’ll not be going to extra trouble rebuilding my shelving just so a dog can’t reach them.”

“I can’t let you strike the dog again,” Harrison said.

“Nor can I,” Adam said, kneeling down beside the dog to have a look at him.

“I won’t, either,” Bray added.

The baker threw his shoulders back defiantly, puffing out his large chest. “Who do you dandies think you are to come to my shop and tell me what I can and can’t do?”

“Name’s Adam Greyhawke.”

“Bray Drakestone.”

“I’m Harrison Thornwick and we’re all telling you, if you try to strike that dog again you’ll have be ready to pull all three of us off you.”

“That I can do and be happy while doing it,” the man said and Harrison saw his grip tighten on the handle of the whip. “But step aside. I’m going to finish with this mongrel first.”

The man raised the whip and threw it toward the dog again. Harrison was the closest. He reached out, caught the end of the whip in his hand, and jerked. Even through his gloves he felt the sting of the leather strip. The shopkeeper was strong, but so was Harrison. He held tightly to the whip and managed to wind it around his arm a couple of times.

“Let go,” the beefy man bellowed with a snarl. “You have no reason to meddle in my affairs.” He took a couple of steps toward Harrison.

“That’s right. Keep walking toward me,” Harrison said in a deadly quiet voice as the man stopped dangerously close to him. “You might be able to take one of us, and maybe even the second, but there is no way you will make it through the three of us. Now, if you are ready, I’ll be the first.”

Bray stepped up beside Harrison. “I never liked being second to anyone. I’ll take him first. Besides, I can have him on the ground with a bloody nose before you get that whip off your arm.”

“If anybody is going to be first, it will be me,” Adam said, rising from where he’d been trying to untie the rope from the dog’s neck.

Suddenly the shopkeeper was looking at a solid wall of men as tall as he was but younger and a whole lot more muscular. He seemed to consider trying to fight them all, then dropped the whip handle and started backing away.

“All right, take the dog if you want it and get out of here. Just don’t let me catch it back around my store.”

“Oh, we will take the dog,” Harrison said as the three of them advanced on him. “But that’s not all we’re going to take.” He took the whip off his arm and started curling up its length.

“Wh–what are you going to do?” the shopkeeper asked, his eyes darting quickly from Harrison to Adam to Bray.

“I was thinking maybe I’d let you see what this whip feels like across your back,” Harrison answered. “What do you think, Adam?”

“You do that. I’d rather have a go at him with my fists.” Adam swung his cloak off his shoulders and let it fall to the ground. “I haven’t had a good fight in a long time, and I’m itching to have a go at this bugger. You can use the whip when I’m finished with him.”

“What’s this?” Bray complained. “After you two get through with him, what will be left for me other than a bloody carcass?”

“You’re right, Bray.” Harrison continued to advance on the man, backing him all the way up to the door of his shop. “I’d hate to see my friends get their clothes dirty. I’ll tell you what. For now, we’re going to forget this happened.”

The shopkeeper gave a cautious smile.

“But while we take the dog over to that tavern and see to his cuts, we’re going to watch you rebuild your shelving higher so it won’t entice other dogs or animals to jump up for your bread and pies.”

“I’ll do no such thing. I said take the dog. That’s enough.”

“Suit yourself,” Adam said walking toward him, too, and rolling up his sleeves as he went.

“Wait, wait!” the baker said, holding up his hands to ward off Adam’s attack. “All right, I’ll rework the shelving if that’s what you want. Just stay away from me and keep that dog away from here, too.”

Harrison picked up two meat pies from the man’s stash of baked goods. “These are for the lashes you gave the dog. Now get inside and get a hammer and some nails and start working on that shelving before my good humor fades.”

The man turned and stumbled into his shop.

Bray removed the knife from around his belt and cut the rope while Adam put the pies in front of the dog. He was wary but sniffed the food and finally started eating.

“I’ll take the dog home with me,” Harrison said, knowing Angelina would take one look and fall in love. She would tend his wounds and have him fattened in no time. “I know someone who will take good care of him.”

“No,” Adam said. “The dog stays with me.”

Harrison started to object, but something in Adam’s tone told him there would be no arguing about this. It was then that Harrison realized that Adam needed to rescue the dog as much as Harrison did. Adam hadn’t been able to save his wife and child, but he could save a dog.

Adam needed the dog.

And Angelina?

Harrison smiled. The only thing she needed was him. She had enough dogs.

Chapter 22

Give me that man that is not passion’s slave, and I will wear him in my heart’s core, ay, in my heart of heart, as I do thee.

Hamlet
3.3.72–75

The music at the Great Hall seemed exceptionally loud to Angelina, and the crowd more boisterous than usual. She had danced with several gentlemen, including Captain Maxwell. She had talked with some of her friends from her reading and sewing groups, and had her fill of punch and champagne. But when all was said and done, she’d spent most of the evening watching the entrance to the ballroom, not wanting to miss Lord Thornwick should he come in and grace the ton’s nightly gala with his presence.

“Well, I see you aren’t sick after all,” Helen Ramsey said, walking up to Angelina where she stood near one of the huge fluted columns.

“Did you think I’d been ill?”

“I thought you must be. You missed our reading society and sewing circle again this week. Actually, I think you’ve missed the last two or three weeks.”

If anyone was going to be aware of Angelina’s absence from the group since the Season started, it would be Helen. She took pride in letting nothing pass her notice.

“It’s really been busy since the Season started,” she told the redhead staring at her with bright-green eyes.

“Busy doing what?” she argued. “I haven’t even seen you at any of the afternoon card or tea parties. You can’t be attending any more parties than the rest of us. And everyone but you made it to both events.”

“Good,” Angelina said, refusing to let Helen goad her into saying something she didn’t want to say. “I’m glad everyone made it. There’s always a lively discussion when the group is large.”

“I don’t know why anyone wants to be a member if you’re not going to
^____
oh, look. There’s that poor Captain Maxwell dancing with Lady Eleanor. What a shame it is. He was so handsome and such a divine catch before he was disfigured like that.”

“I think he’s still handsome, Helen,” Angelina said, instinctively coming to the captain’s defense.

The young lady raised one eyebrow. “Are we talking about the same gentleman? You know he isn’t. But perhaps if he wore a bigger patch to cover more of the scarring that would help.”

Anger stiffened Angelina. “He needs to do no such thing. Time will fade the scarring so that’s its hardly noticeable.”

Helen rolled her eyes. “Look upon him however you wish, Angelina. But for his sake, I hope he doesn’t think he can win Lady Eleanor’s hand. The old duke will never let that happen.”

“Why would you say that?” Angelina asked tightly, her anger rising at Helen’s heartless words.

“Why wouldn’t I? It’s true. I know you have danced with him. Most of us have danced with him once or twice and we will continue to do so. We all feel sorry about what’s happened to him.”

“He is a courageous soldier, Helen. He doesn’t need your pity or anyone else’s.”

“Well, he has it, so there,” she said pointedly. “I wonder if the duke knows the captain is dancing with his daughter. Don’t look so stricken, Angelina, I told you, we all feel sorry for him. Who wouldn’t, but I mean, we certainly don’t want to marry him.”

Outraged by Helen’s words, Angelina could only whisper, “You’ve talked about this with other ladies?”

“Of course. If you had bothered yourself to attend the meetings recently you would know what all the other ladies are saying. He’s been the topic of conversation since he returned. I suppose if a lady had no other prospects of a good match she might consider marriage with him, but I mean can you imagine looking at him every day?”

“Yes, Helen, I can imagine doing exactly that,” Angelina said, hoping she sounded as offended as she felt. “Captain Maxwell’s face doesn’t look horrible at all to me, and furthermore
^____
”

“Wait.” Helen held up her hand. “Before you reprimand me again, I know I should feel ashamed of myself for feeling the way I do about the captain. And I suppose I am ashamed. A little anyway. But I mean, wouldn’t his children be frightened of him?”

Angelina gasped. “I’m going to stop this conversation with you right now before I do something I’ll regret, like pull every hair from your head!”

Helen’s green eyes rounded in fright. “What’s wrong with you?”

“You! I don’t want to listen to any more of your nonsense about Captain Maxwell and his appearance. What you are saying is madness. In fact, I’m going to go wait for the captain right now and as soon as he is off the dance floor with Lady Eleanor, I hope he will ask me for another dance. If he does, I shall dance with him. Excuse me.” Angelina turned to walk off but swung back to Helen again. “And for your further information, Helen, I have already been for a ride in the park with him and I will enjoy another ride with him very soon. You can feel free to tell everyone you know. Though you probably would have anyway as you are the biggest gossip in our group.”

“I am not. How dare you! I do not gossip!”

Angelina felt like stomping off but managed to walk away calmly, thinking she might never go back to the sewing circle or the reading society again. Foolish young girls, all of them. She didn’t care what Helen said, Angelina refused to believe the only reason young ladies were dancing with Captain Maxwell was because they felt sorry for him. He was a kind gentleman of great integrity and courage; any lady should be honored to have him for a husband. Helen didn’t know that because she was only interested in Helen.