Did he have a choice?
Standing upon the pavement, she looked up and down the street, wondering what had become of the Kensington Carriage. Coachman John had surely told her he would wait right here, just outside of Madam Chantal’s. She shivered and suddenly felt a little vulnerable. She ought to have brought her maid along with her.
She began to twirl around to recheck her location when a strong shove from behind caused her to drop her packages and trip toward the cobbled roadway. Unable to halt her momentum, she was flabbergasted when she landed softly, somewhat cushioned, by an odiferous rock of fluff and fur. Something had prevented her from tumbling head over heels onto the street.
Sprawled on the ground and startled, Cecily found herself beside a disproportionately large dog who was enthusiastically greeting her with swipes of his equally disproportionately long tongue.Her packages! Her new bonnets!
And then all thoughts of those fripperies flew out of her mind. For in a burst of dusty wind and straw, a produce cart careened along the road, far too close for comfort. There had been mere inches to spare between her person and the hooves of livestock as the team and conveyance rushed past. She’d been lucky.
Good lord, what a fright!
It took a moment for her to realize that she had, quite fortuitously, been saved from certain death by the solid presence of this rather large mangy-looking canine.
Dazed, but curious, Cecily glanced around to see who had stumbled into her so recklessly. It was impossible, however, for the people who had been in her vicinity had either disappeared along the walk or were approaching to assist her and assure themselves of her well-being.
“I’m safe. I am fine,” she said several times as she allowed one of the passing gentlemen to assist her to her feet. “Really, I’m fine.” She brushed at her new dress and winced when she saw a large rip near the hem. Madam Chantal would not be happy. She grimaced further when her hands transferred streaks of grime and blood onto the fabric. She’d not realized the extent to which the road had torn her soft gloves and scraped her palms when she’d fallen.
“Oh, I say,” a familiar-looking gentleman said. “Aren’t you the chit Kensington married recently? The cit’s daughter?”
Cecily bent to retrieve her reticule and packages and then stood tall, straightening her spine. “I am Lady Kensington, yes,” she said, attempting to escape the smothering well-doers who now surrounded her. For the first time in ages, she experienced a small amount of fear. It was one thing to be snubbed in a ballroom, another all together to find oneself hemmed in on a public street.
“And I suppose this here is your noble dog!” a different voice mocked, sounding vulgar and a bit menacing.
She glared in the direction of the second man just in time to see him land a swift kick on the animal’s hindquarters.
“Oh, no, you don’t!” A red haze abruptly clouded Cecily’s vision. No longer considering the precariousness of her situation, nor the fact that she was a woman alone in the midst of an unfriendly crowd, she leapt forward and then crouched down by the maligned dog. She didn’t have far to bend, though, as he really was rather gloriously proportioned. “You will not hurt this animal! How would you like it if somebody did the same to you, you good for nothing wastrel!”
Upon her defense of the animal, the crowd tittered and smirked. A few ladies stood some ways back, satisfaction on their faces. Cecily ought not to have been, but was, nonetheless, disconcerted to note that one of them was Daphne Cunnington.
“Well, that’s a fine pet fora lady,” one of the men added maliciously.
“Why, that’s no lady,” another said. “That’s Lord Kensington’s wife!” At this, many of them broke into gales of laughter.
Cecily grasped the hair on the back of the dog’s neck and attempted to pull him away with her. “Come on,” she said when he resisted. She could not leave him to the mercies of this lot. He had saved her life, after all. In her struggle to pull at the beast, her hold on her possessions loosened. She needed away from here. If only she could get back to Madam’s shop.
Barely had she attempted to drag the dog along with her when a strong arm wrapped around her middle. She nearly elbowed the person in the gut before his voice stopped her.
“My dear Lady Kensington…” Stephen Nottingham’s voice was gentle yet firm. “…you look as though you are in need of assistance. Are these fine gentlemen troubling you?”
Lady Kensington wasmaking every attempt to appear unafraid, but Stephen felt small tremors going through her as he grasped her around the waist.
At the same time, she tugged fruitlessly at one of the largest and most unkempt dogs he’d ever seen.
He could not recall a recent situation in which he had felt as justifiably angry as he did at that moment. He was acutely angry at the crowd nettling her, but even more furious with his cousin for putting her in this position to begin with. Not hesitating in the least, he turned his fury toward the crowd that had gathered. “This is how you assist a lady?” he said through clenched teeth.
A few of them hesitantly stepped backward.
“Simply having a spot of fun,” one of the braver ones murmured feebly.
“No need to be hasty,” another said.
Lady Kensington was doing her best to escape them all, himself included, but the dog impeded her attempts. Releasing the lady momentarily, Stephen reached up and untied the cravat his valet had so expertly done up a few hours ago.
The men, thinking he was in mind of fighting them all, dispersed even more quickly.
“Damned bullies,” he growled under his breath before turning back to the dog. “I take it, my lady, that you wish to bring this mongrel home with you?”
With a slight nod, not looking at him, she answered, “I do.” She gave another tug. “But he bloody well isn’t letting me!” She nearly toppled over as she pulled at the dog. “I cannot leave him here all alone. If it weren’t for him, I’d be splattered all over the roadway right now. What kind of person would I be if I left him to fend for himself now? I ask you that. What kind of person would do that?” Her voice wavered somewhat. She used one arm to swipe at her eyes, her packages and reticule forgotten at her feet.
