“Mungo, I’m so pleased you’re back,” Bud said, rushing to his side. “Why, you’re wet through. Get up those stairs and change.” The housekeeper grabbed a handful of his jacket. “And chilled to the bone likely.”
“I’m well, Bud. Don’t fuss.”
A loud barking sound was followed by the scrabble of nails on the floor, and a large white dog with black circles around his eyes appeared.
“Do you like dogs, Eliza?”
“Very much so, Miss Bud.”
“Well, that’s good, because this is Chester. Be a good boy now, and greet Eliza politely.”
The dog ran at Eliza.
“Sit, Chester!”
The roar came from Mr. Fraser. The dog stopped an inch from where Eliza stood, and looked up at her, tail swishing from side to side expectantly.
“Well now, you’re a fine boy, aren’t you?” Eliza bent to pat the dog’s head and then scratch behind a soft ear. “Yes, you are.”
Chester stretched his neck and licked her face, which made her laugh.
“Now that you’ve been officially greeted, Miss Downing, we’ll show you to your rooms, as I’m sure you wish to wash after the morning’s events,” Miss Bud said. “You can get settled before meeting the younger members of the family, who are equally as exuberant as Chester.”
“Amen,” Mr. Fraser muttered.
“Thank you.” Eliza moved to retrieve her bags, but two large hands beat her to it.
“I’ll bring them up.”
“Thank you, Mr. Fraser, but after what you’ve endured?—”
“Just Mungo, and I’ve said I would, so I will.”
Was he always rude and abrupt or just with her because he was embarrassed?Washe embarrassed? Eliza was certainly uncomfortable that he was the man who had saved her, even as she was also grateful.
He’d heard her screaming for help. Nothing ladylike—in fact, she’d cursed like a sailor.
“I can take my bags… really,” Eliza said, not wanting that large presence behind her as she walked to the stairs. Bending, she brushed her fingers over the first step, as she always did the first time she stepped on them, and then began to climb.
“Come along, Eliza,” Bud said. “And one thing you need to know about Mungo is, no one can bend him to do anything he has no wish to,” she said. “I’m sorry for what happened,” she added.
“’Tis done with, and no need to speak on it again,” Mungo said.
Eliza followed the housekeeper down the wide corridor, her boots making little sound on the thick runner beneath them. The woman, Bud, talked as she walked, her voice brisk as she spoke of the household’s routines, the staff who kept things running smoothly, and the family who called this residence home.
It should calm her after what had just happened, but nothing would until Eliza was away from the large Scotsman behind her.
He followed, his footsteps surprisingly light on the floor.
“We don’t have a lot of staff here,” Bud said, tugging Eliza’s mind back to her surroundings. “But there is Mungo, and Benjamin, the footman and driver you’ve already met. Plus there are two maids, Hannah and Sarah, and Mr. Dumple, the cook.
It was a fine house, Eliza thought as they reached the first landing, though not ostentatious like many she’d entered. Places that thought more about appearance than comfort for the children who lived in it.
Sunlight filtered through high windows, catching on framed pictures and the gleam of the banister. Yet what struck her most were the signs of life, such as a scuffed boot half tucked beneath a cabinet and the edge of a glove tossed on a narrow table. It felt like a home.
“Chester, you bloody mongrel!” the deep Scots burr bellowed from behind her.
Eliza started. Before she could turn, Mungo strode past at speed, expression thunderous. He stopped abruptly, muttering something indecipherable as he plucked the boot from the floor. “I’ve been looking for that for weeks.”
