Temperance turned and looked at the house, which was house she had lived in for three years — and then turned back.
“Over there,” she repeated.
“Yes.”
“You came from my house?”
“It is not…” He stopped himself. “I came from that direction,” he amended carefully.
“I see. And what is your name?”
“Joseph,” he said after a small pause.
“Joseph,” she repeated. “And do you have a family name, Joseph?”
Another pause, slightly longer this time.
“Crauford,” he said, and then appeared to immediately consider whether this had been wise.
The name meant nothing to her. She filed it away and held out her hands.
“Well, Joseph Crauford. It is late, and you are covered in my garden, and I would like my cat back, please.”
Joseph looked down at Soot and some kind of communication appeared to pass between them, the nature of which Temperance could not determine, and then Joseph looked back up at her.
“She is very soft,” he said. “I was not going to keep her.”
“I didn’t think you were.” Temperance kept her hands out. “Come. It is cold and late and your mother will be wondering where you are.”
Something moved across his face and he looked down at Soot once more, and then, without further argument, he stepped forward and allowed Temperance to take the cat from his arms.
Soot settled against her shoulder and immediately closed her eyes. Temperance looked at Joseph, who was standing in the middle of the garden in his ruined clothes with the twig still above his ear, and felt an unexpected wave of something she could not immediately name.
“Come on then,” she said, more gently. “I’ll take you back.”
They walked back through the garden together in silence. Joseph fell into step beside her without being asked. He was not, she thought, a shy child but he was a watchful one. She recognized the quality as she had spent twenty-two years cultivating it herself.
The lights of the house glowed warm and yellow ahead of them. Biscuit’s large head was visible at the drawing room window, tracking their progress across the garden.
“Are those all your dogs?” Joseph asked, as they neared the back door.
“They are, all three of them.”
He was quiet for a moment. “In the house?”
“They live there, yes.”
She could not see his expression clearly in the dark, but she had the distinct impression he was filing this information away. They came through the back door into the warmth of the hallway, and Midge launched herself immediately at the new arrival. Joseph took an involuntary step back.
“Hand out,” Temperance said. “Palm down, let her sniff you first.”
Joseph obeyed while Midge sniffed his hand with exhaustive thoroughness, and sat down.
“What is her name?” he asked.
“Midge. The large one by the stairs is Biscuit, and the short one is Peabody.”
“Peabody,” Joseph repeated, with a slight note of disbelief.
