Page 89 of The Duke Says I Do
Granville struggled to hold him back. “Don’t be a fool, man.”
“That dog is going to earn me a fortune. I’m not giving him up.”
“He deserves better than you.”
“Maybe so. But that don’t make no difference.” Jones held out his hand. “Give him over, chum. Or take the consequences.”
The door at the top of the steps at Dempster House slammed open. “I don’t think so,” Sheriff said, pointing a gun at Jones from where he stood in the doorway. “Put your weapon down.”
When Jones jerked around in shock, Granville saw his chance. He released Jupiter, who lunged. Granville lurched forward to grab the gun.
“Fucking ‘ell!” Jones staggered back, his finger tightening on the trigger. There was a deafening bang, but luckily Granville had twisted his arm. The bullet discharged skyward.
Sheriff dashed down to the pavement. Jupiter gave a sharp bark and bit the back of Jones’s knee. Jones swore and kicked at the same time, as he tried to fight Granville and the dog off.
Granville wrestled the now-useless gun away, while Matty and Phipps ran up from the kitchens to grab Jones. The man struggled, although he must know that he’d lost.
“Matty, get the nightwatchman,” Granville panted. He’d been scared, he wasn’t too proud to admit. And furious that just as his life turned in the right direction, he came close to losing it.
“Aye, Your Grace.” The lad took to his heels. Phipps picked up Jupiter’s leash and with difficulty pulled the dog back from Jones.
Around them, lights went on in houses, doors opened, and windows slid up with a volley of crashes. Dear God, Granville hoped that nobody decided to wander through the center of the square. He needed someone to find Portia and get her away before anyone noticed her presence.
As if conjured up by Granville’s worry, Hobbs appeared at his elbow. “Shall I see Lady Portia gets home without attracting attention, Your Grace?”
Shocked, Granville surveyed his valet. “How did you…”
The man rarely smiled, so the faint lift of his lips counted as much as a triumphant grin from another man. “When England’s tidiest nobleman leaves his apartments in chaos and that chaos includes female clothing, I could tell something was up.”
“The devil with it, man. We’ve tried so hard to be discreet.” He wasn’t sure whether he was grateful or embarrassed or annoyed. Probably a mixture of all three.
“A man has few secrets from his valet,” Hobbs said with a hint of smugness.
People flooded into the street. At this hour, they sported evening clothes and day wear and robes flung over night attire. A few older residents wore nightcaps on their heads, like aged Wee Willie Winkies. As the crowd swelled, buzzing with questions, Jones stood defeated between Phipps and Sheriff.
A smile of his own stretched Granville’s lips. “You may be the first to wish me happy, Hobbs. Lady Portia and I are to be married today.”
Hobbs’s smile widened. “I’m delighted, sir. I wish you and her ladyship every joy.”
“Thank you.”
Now the danger had passed, Granville crouched to give Jupiter some attention. “Good boy. Good boy.”
Jupiter’s tail wagged, and he jumped up to lick Granville’s face. He was as pleased to stay with his new master as his new master was to keep him.
A couple of brawny footmen emerged from Dempster House to take charge of Jones. Granville looked up at Sheriff from where he patted his dog. “How the deuce did you know to come out?”
“I was with Matty when he walked Jupiter the last few nights. We noticed that rogue hanging around where he shouldn’t be. But we were much earlier than this and I suspect there were too many people around for him to chance his arm. Tonight, after you stayed out so long, I came up to wait in the hall, in case there was trouble.”
With gratitude jamming Granville’s throat, his voice emerged as a gruff rumble. “I owe my life to you. The sod was out to kill me. He’d certainly have killed Jupiter. Thank you.”
Phipps’s smile as he bowed expressed sincere affection and respect. “It’s always an honor to serve you, sir.”
The nightwatchman staggered into view. When he came closer, Granville caught a strong whiff of spirits. That at least explained how Jones had infiltrated the square. The man performed an unsteady bow, punctuated by a loud hiccup. “Your Grace, what goings-on. What a fuss.”
“We’ll get this scurvy fellow in front of the courts, sir,” Sheriff said, ignoring the drunk. “Phipps and I will take the brute who accosted you in to Bow Street now and lay charges. We’ve seen enough to make sure that this ruffian causes no more trouble.”
Jones had threatened a peer of the realm, a duke no less. He’d be lucky to escape a hanging. At best, transport to the horrors of Botany Bay on the other side of the world awaited.
