Page 49 of Miss Prim and the Duke of Wylde
Carmichael-Craik swallowed and shifted his gaze to Drago. “Let’s say no more about it.”
Drago smiled and shifted to hold up his hand, and Carmichael-Craik bent to take it.
“Thank you, Daniel,” Drago said. “Your understanding is appreciated. No doubt we’ll see you around town.”
With that, Drago urged Meg onto the pavement, and Carmichael-Craik saluted them with his whip, then shook his reins and set his team slowly walking along.
Drago would have felt more sympathy for the man, but inside, he was still reeling. He stuffed his roiling emotions deep and focused on Meg.
She was trying to coax the puppy to pull his nose out from beneath her arm.
Drago noted the small body was still shivering. “He probably won’t lift his head and look around until he feels safe again.”
Meg raised her head and scanned the pavement. “Can you see his owner?”
Drago searched to both right and left, then shook his head. “There doesn’t seem to be anyone interested in claiming him.” He looked at the pup, then bent and sniffed. Straightening, he confirmed, “He smells like a gutter. I doubt he’s anyone’s pampered pet.”
“Or if he is, he’s well and truly lost.”
“Hmm. So what do you want to do with him?” He already knew the answer.
Sure enough, she instantly replied, “Take him home, of course.” She looked at Drago. “I didn’t save him from certain death to throw him back on the streets.”
He suppressed a wry smile. “Of course not.” He tightened his arm about her and turned her toward his curricle. “Come on, then. I’d better take you both home.”
He helped her, still cradling the puppy, into his curricle. The dog consented to settle in her lap, but burrowed his muzzle under her gloved hand.
Drago reassured his tiger, Milton, that he’d done the right thing in remaining with the grays rather than rushing to help with Carmichael-Craik’s horses. After reclaiming the reins and waiting for Milton to swing up behind, Drago shook the ribbons and started back to Half Moon Street.
Halfway there, Meg looked up from the puppy, a frown in her eyes. “I’ve just realized. Mama’s old retriever is at home, and she doesn’t like other dogs.” Sadly, she looked down at the golden bundle. “I’m fairly certain she won’t appreciate a puppy, either, and she has been known to be vicious.”
Drago sighed and looked down at the pup. “I suppose I can take him. I’ve left my dogs at the Court, and as we’re fixed in town until June, he’ll have time to grow a trifle before meeting them.”
“Thank you!” She looked up, and seeing her face aglow with happiness was worth every complaint he knew would be coming his way. A dog was one thing, a half-grown pup quite another.
Then she frowned. “Your staff…”
“Are very well trained when it comes to dogs.” They were also very well paid, which helped.
“Excellent.” She poked the pup with a finger. “I hope you know how to behave.”
So did Drago.
When they reached Half Moon Street, the only way they could part the pup from Meg was to have Milton tuck it inside his coat. After walking Meg to the door and seeing her inside, Drago returned to the curricle, took up the reins, and with Milton sitting beside him, finally turned his horses’ heads for home.
Drago noticed that the puppy’s nose was poking out of the enveloping jacket, dark eyes trained on him. Dogs always knew who the dog lovers were.
Returning his gaze to his horses, rather than dwell on the horrific moment outside the park gate and the revelation—the epiphany—the incident had visited on him, he let his mind retread the discussions of the afternoon, drawing unexpected and considerable comfort from the revised agreement he and Meg had reached. He found it reassuring that she had been as willing as he to recast their engagement; nevertheless, he couldn’t be certain that their new direction would, in fact, culminate in them facing an altar. He hadn’t wooed her or made any of the courting gestures ladies were said to expect.
What if she decided that, after all, marrying him was not to her taste?
He’d set out for Melwin Place to cold-bloodedly offer for Alison Melwin and wound up with Meg Cynster in his arms.
Even now, he wasn’t sure if that was a stroke of luck or a disaster poised to slay him.
CHAPTER8
That evening, as Drago climbed the stairs of Entwhistle House with Meg on his arm and her mother on Meg’s other side, he was still fighting to suppress the lingering reactions that had assailed him in that heart-stopping moment outside Regent’s Park.
