Page 88 of The Duke Says I Do
With Jupiter back on his leash, Granville stepped onto the street outside Dempster House. Nobody seemed to be around, although that would soon change. He’d checked his pocket watch as soon as he had light to see. It wasn’t far off two.
He was about to whistle to let Portia know it was safe to come out of the trees when a growl from Jupiter warned him that he was no longer alone.
“What is it, boy?” he murmured.
He heard footsteps before he saw the hulking figure approaching. “What have we here? The noble thief himself, eh? And my dog.”
Despite a single meeting several weeks ago, Granville recognized the coarse voice straightaway. Jupiter kept growling, a low rumble of hostility, and he shifted closer to Granville’s side.
“Jim Jones,” Granville snarled. “What in Hades do you want?”
Nothing good, that was for sure. He was disgusted with himself for coming out unarmed. His sword stick was inside, as were his pistols. But then, he’d never imagined the brute having the gall to accost him in the middle of Mayfair.
“I want my dog back.”
“You were paid for your dog.” Granville raised his voice to make sure that Portia heard and stayed put. The idea of her encountering this bruiser when Granville had no way of defending her turned his blood to ice. He prayed that Jones had just appeared on the scene, and didn’t guess that Granville had company other than Jupiter.
“Not enough.”
He’d been paid more than a working man earned in a month.
“I’m not giving Jupiter back. He’s my dog now.” Granville was surprised at how strongly he felt about that.
“Well, my lord high and mighty, that would sound a hell of a lot more convincing if we weren’t standing out here in the dark, with nobody around to help you, and me with a pistol in my pocket.”
The bastard was right. Granville was a big, muscular man who regularly sparred at Gentleman Jackson’s salon, but Jones had a gun, even if one discounted that the sod was built like a mountain. In a hand-to-hand fight, he had no hope of prevailing. And he had Portia to worry about as well, damn it.
But be buggered if he meant to hand over Jupiter. Especially as Jones would put him straight into a dogfight. Granville wouldn’t tolerate the idea of his beloved pet being ripped to pieces, purely to make money for a bunch of yahoos.
But what the devil was he going to do?
He fell back on ducal authority. “If you dare to threaten me, I’ll have the law on you faster than you can say good morning. The judiciary take a dim view of criminals accosting their betters.”
They were just across the road from Dempster House and its streetlamps. Granville wished to Jericho that he couldn’t see Jones’s expression. The warning left the man remarkably unmoved. “That’s as may be, Your Grace.”
Jones knew exactly who Granville was. Of course he must. He wasn’t in Lorimer Square by chance. Granville’s image regularly appeared in the illustrated papers. It wouldn’t be hard to track him down if someone took the trouble. Jones had taken the trouble. “Your best choice is to sink back into the mire you sprang from.”
“Fine words from a man with nothing but his own superiority to save him.”
“Just a friendly piece of advice. You can’t hope to escape punishment if you assault me and steal my dog.”
Jupiter kept up his growling, but he trembled against Granville’s leg. Granville tightened his hold on the leash. Jupiter was a breath away from springing at Jones, and he was terrified that the man would shoot.
Giving your heart away was hellish. Right now, the idea of anything happening to either Portia or Jupiter flooded his mouth with sour bile.
“I don’t see why not. Now much as I enjoy hobnobbing with mybetters…”The contempt dripping from the word conveyed his view of Granville’s rank. “…it’s past my bedtime. Hand over the dog and nobody gets hurt.”
“I’m not giving you my dog.”
Jones dug in the pocket of his voluminous leather coat and produced a horse pistol. However frail the hope, Granville had wondered if the man lied about being armed. “I’ll happily kill you, Your Grace. I can disappear into the shadows faster than a rat shoots up a drainpipe.”
“If you shoot that thing, the square will fill before you can snap your fingers.” Granville kept his voice steady.
Right now, while he was undoubtedly afraid for himself, he feared Portia’s reckless courage most of all. She wouldn’t stand by if things turned ugly. He credited her good sense in staying hidden until now, but he couldn’t rely on that discretion continuing.
If Portia intervened, they’d have a full-scale disaster on their hands. Jones was smart enough to know that given a choice between Jupiter’s life or Portia’s, Granville would have to sacrifice the dog. When he didn’t want to lose either of them, damn it.
“Yes, well, you won’t care. You’ll be dead.” When he stepped closer, Jupiter snarled and strained against the leash.
