Page 70 of Miss Prim and the Duke of Wylde
Drago nodded. “I always preferred the zebras, myself. Gorillas are…a trifle rough and crude, don’t you think? Nowhere near as graceful as a zebra.”
“The giraffes were good, too. They have such long necks.”
“Indeed.” Drago took a step back. “And they walk like this.” Using his arms and stiffening his long legs, he demonstrated, to the amusement of all in sight.
“Yes!” Dougal pulled his hands free and tried to copy Drago and laughed delightedly when he managed a passable imitation.
Bemused, Meg watched as, with Dougal by his side, Drago did a “giraffe walk” in a small circle.
Both she and Pru were smiling irrepressibly. Pru leaned close and whispered, “I’ve noticed that all men have an inner little boy.”
Meg nodded. “And it comes out at the most unexpected times.”
“And in the most unexpected ways.” Pru smiled and, when Drago halted and straightened, held out her hand to Dougal. “On that note, it’s time we headed home for luncheon. You must be hungry by now.”
The mention of food fixed Dougal’s attention, and he nodded. Then he glanced up—all the way up—to Drago’s face. “Thank you for playing with me, Lord…”
Looking down, Drago smiled. “Just Drago, Dougal.” He ruffled Dougal’s curls. “As I’ll soon be your uncle, you can call me Drago.”
Dougal looked thrilled at the prospect of another uncle to play with. “Uncle Drago.” He skipped to his mother and took Pru’s hand. “Are we going, then?”
Pru laughed. “We are, indeed.”
Drago fell in on Meg’s other side as they left the zoo and crossed Broad Walk to continue beneath the trees along the path that would take them to the Gloucester Gate. They’d left the Glengarah carriage waiting in Gloucester Terrace.
Meg glanced at Drago. “Will you join us for luncheon?”
His gaze drifted down to Dougal’s dark head. “Actually, I was wondering if I might steal you away.” He waved ahead. “My curricle is waiting behind Glengarah’s carriage.” He met her gaze. “I’m sure we could find somewhere quieter to eat.”
She chuckled. “I believe your mother and aunt, and your sisters, too, are at Half Moon Street, and they were expecting to be there all day.”
“Ah. Well, in that case, Wylde House sounds like our perfect bolt hole.”
Dougal had been earnestly impressing on Pru how much he wanted a zebra. As they emerged through the Gloucester Gate, Dougal’s expression set in mulish lines, and he halted on the pavement and looked challengingly at Pru. “I’m sure Papa would say I could have a zebra.”
Drago shared an amused glance with Meg, then stepped around to face Dougal. “Actually, Dougal, zebras come from Africa, which is very warm, not to say decidedly hot.”
“Exactly.” Pru bent down to assure her son. “So you see, a zebra wouldn’t thrive at Glengarah. They’re not used to our winters at all, and they would sicken and die.”
“Oh.” Dougal’s face fell—but only for an instant. Blue eyes lighting, he looked at Pru. “But I can ask Gran’papa to get one and keep it for me, can’t I?”
The thought of Demon Cynster training a zebra brought a smile to all their faces.
Hard hands closed around Meg’s shoulders and roughly hauled her away.
“No!” She struggled, but the man holding her was strong.
Then Drago was there, one hand closing on her forearm while his other fist flew past her face.
A howl rent the air, and the meaty hands fell from her shoulders.
Drago pulled her to him, then thrust her behind him, shoving her toward Pru.
One look at her sister’s shocked face and the way she was clutching Dougal to her skirts was enough to assure Meg that this was entirely real.
She caught her balance and whirled and saw Drago duck a punch thrown by a beefy man, apparently the partner of the man who had grabbed her.
That man was groggily picking himself up from the pavement where he’d landed.
