Mistletoe and Mischief (7 page)

She found she was most anxious for Charles's comfort. Even she, with her little knowledge of men, could tell how strained he had been when she first met him. She suspected he had a regrettable tendency to overwork.

She crossed the room and pulled a different chair to a spot before the window. Heavy curtains shrouded the glass to block draughts. Louisa parted them just enough to peer out. The snow had started to fall again, but not so heavily that she had any fears for their departure on the morrow. By the light from the inn's lanterns, she could see that the coating on the ground was much too thin and the snow much too fine for there to be any danger of their bogging down on the road.

Just then, a wrenching howl cut into the silence, followed by a canine whimper and a yip. Louisa jumped, then wiped the fog off the glass with her glove and strained to see farther into the yard.

This corner of the parlour faced the road. Dim light shone from the Spadgers' lamp, casting a beam in the shape of a wedge out onto the pavement.

At first, Louisa saw nothing. She was about to wipe the pane again when something in the shadows caught her eye. She pressed her face to the window just as another howl of pain echoed down the street. Some creature was evidently in torment.

Louisa spat on her fingers this time and wiped the pane again to keep it clear. Then she saw a figure move into the lantern light– a man with a dog, small like a puppy, that he was holding by the ears.

Before the next wail of pain reached her, Louisa had bolted from her seat and flown to the door. She threw it open to find Sammy Spadger on the point of knocking.

Her demeanour frightened him. “What is't, lass?”

“Oh, Mr. Spadger, come quickly! I've no time to explain, but you are needed!”

Louisa did not wait to see if he followed. Without so much as her spencer–which she had removed so Mrs. Spadger could press it–she headed out the main inn door and into the street beyond.

“Miss! But, miss–!”

Sammy Spadger grabbed a lantern and came running after her, the words “catch thy death” and “dampen thy slippers” tripping off his tongue.

But Louisa was so heated by what she had just seen that no amount of snow could chill her. She stalked up to the man still standing on the pavement–a heavyset man with a stale smell of alcohol about him–and snatched the dog from his arms.

“0h, how could you! You scoundrel!”

When he saw who had accosted him, the man's first startled glance quickly changed to one of furtive belligerence.

“'Ere now! Wot you doin’?”

Louisa ignored him. She hugged the puppy close to her while the frightened creature huddled in her arms and whimpered. Seeming to sense a sympathetic spirit, it snuggled closer to her for warmth until Louisa felt a cold, wet nose planted between her breasts. A shock of long silky fur tickled her on the chin.

“Miss?” Sammy Spadger was hovering anxiously at her elbow. “What would tha be needing me for?”

Louisa turned to him, surprised. “I need you to call for the bailiff, of course! This man ought to be arrested for what he's done! Did you hear this creature's cries? What he did was brutal! “

“Arrested!” The man was taken aback. “You can't have no one arrested fer that! This 'ere's my dog, 'e is! I've a right to do wot I want wif 'im! “

“T' fellow's reet, miss,” Sammy said apologetically. “Tha's no reet ta take away a man's dog.”

Louisa stared at him incredulously. “But I refuse to give him back! How could you suggest such a thing to me? Have you no pity?”

Sammy winced. “I don't say that it's good, miss. I hate ta see a dog treated that way. But there's nowt I can do abowt it–” he cast a suspicious glance at the man “–not unless he's made off wi' t' dog.”

The fellow started to protest his innocence, but Louisa cut across his speech. “Do you know this man, Mr. Spadger?”

“Nay, he's a foreigner.”

Louisa quite rightly took this to mean that the man was simply not from the village.

“I've seen 'm abowt a bit, though.” Sammy sounded displeased.

“Well,” Louisa said, “I'm certain that a man who is capable of tormenting a dog is quite capable of stealing one. Until this matter can be decided, I shall take the dog myself to keep it safe! “

“But, miss–” Much as he disliked the fellow, Sammy would not support her.

“I'll call for the bailiff meself, I will–” the burly fellow's tone grew uglier by the minute “–and we'll see wot the law says about it. A body can't take a man's dog , 'specially no girl!”

Louisa drew herself up and spoke with dignity. “You shall not intimidate me nor deter me from doing what I know to be right.”

Then she spoiled the effect of her statement by sneezing. The burly man peered closer and snorted with laughter. Louisa tried to maintain her firm pose, but the dog's hair had tickled her nose and made it quite red. Even her eyes had begun to itch and water.

Desperate to make a sterner impression on the two men–for she could see that even Sammy had begun to lose patience with her–she said, “And, for your information, you shall not be dealing with me. My cousin will attend to you as soon as he returns from his errand. He is a marquess and travelling on the Regent's business.”

She had not meant to drag Charles into the affair, but the claims of the puppy were surely more important than Charles's discretion. Besides, she felt confident that Charles would feel exactly as she did.

She sneezed again and tried to hold the puppy away from her, but when she did, it started to whimper. She realized, too, that such a gesture might suggest a willingness to give the dog up, and
that
Louisa was earnestly determined not to do, so she hugged the creature tighter.

By this time, Mrs. Spadger and a big lad who looked as if he might be her son had heard the commotion and come outside to investigate. While the stranger expostulated, Sammy explained the situation to his wife, who expressed her indignation at the bully but could not bring herself to take Louisa's side. Both she and her husband seemed to have too great a respect for the laws of ownership to overlook them.

Louisa was too overcome by another fit of sneezing to argue just then, but she found an unexpected champion in the Spadgers' son. For when the burly man reached for the puppy and would have wrenched it from her, he was confronted by a huge pair of fists.

Sammy put his hand on the boy's shoulder.

“Leave off now, Jim–hold on, son.”

“If you will only wait for my cousin ... achoo! ... he will take care of all ... achoo! Oh, damn!” Louisa was driven to profanity by her sneezes, which seemed to have become uncontrollable. Her throat was thickening and throbbing, and minute by minute she found it more difficult to breathe. But she refused to relinquish the trusting puppy, which had begun to plaster sticky, wet kisses on her face.

Louisa prayed that Charles would come soon.

Though she considered entrusting the dog to one of the Spadgers, at least for the moment, any one of them might decide to give the creature back to its tormentor. She could not risk it.

The burly man had raised his fists when confronted by Jim’s, and now pushed past him to make a grab for the puppy. A shoving match followed, which Louisa would have stopped if only she could stop sneezing.

It was with desperate relief that she heard Charles's cool voice carrying over the snow. “What in the devil's name is going on?”

Charles had approached the inn in a warm haze, caused in large part by Ned's brandy. But the cold of the night air had just started to seep through his overcoat, and he had begun to look forward to a dinner with Louisa.

He remembered the punch she had told the innkeeper to prepare for him the night before, and he wondered whether she would do so again. Somehow the thought that she might not think of it was more disturbing than the thought of actually missing the punch.

He was just about to ponder the meaning of this when the scene in front of the inn caught his eye: a crowd of people it seemed, and in its centre, Louisa, holding what looked like a fur muff to her exposed bosom.

A feeling of dread stole over him, even as he questioned her choice of attire.

He spurred his horse and called out in as cool a voice as he could muster. He had no doubt Louisa had done something foolish and that he would have to pay for it. A feeling of betrayal ran through him–couldn't she keep out of trouble for one hour? But as he dismounted, his anger was mollified by the sight of tears in her eyes as she turned to him with a rapturous smile.

“Charles! Thank heaven, you've come!”

She hurried to him and thrust her muff into his hands. Charles caught the bundle, fresh from the warmth of her bosom, and stared down at her. Even in the lantern's dim light, he could see the rosy imprint it had left on her flesh, from the bottom of her chin down to the neckline of her gown. His eyes were then drawn to its thin material, through which evidence of the chill she was suffering was prominently visible. The sight brought heat to Charles's face as he remembered Ned's advice.

He stared and swallowed. But then the bundle he had taken for a muff began to squirm, and he realized it had claws. Instinctively, he grabbed for it before it could topple from his arms. Then he held it to the light.

“A puppy! Louisa, what is this about?”

The dog whined, so he brought it close to his chest again and stroked it. This treatment seemed to work, so while Louisa explained herself between sneezes, Charles absently ran his fingers through the dog's hair. After a few moments, the creature stopped squirming and settled happily against his coat.

By this time, the rest of the crowd had surrounded them. Sammy and Nan hovered in the background, while a heavy, low sort of fellow shouted that Louisa had taken his dog.

“Nonsense!” Charles said, though he realized in saying it that he had no basis for sounding so certain. He did not know Louisa, after all, though he could hardly admit that in front of the Spadgers. He had better
sound
as if he believed what he said, and in any event he had taken an instant dislike to the burly fellow.

“If this is your dog,” he said coolly, “it can be returned to you promptly. There is no cause to shout.”

He held out the dog to the man, but Louisa, still sneezing, threw herself between them. She caught the dog and pressed it back into Charles's arms, then clasped him by the shoulders.

“You mustn't do that, Charles! “ She turned her head and made explosive noises. “Oh, excuse me! I am so sorry! But you mustn't–”

“Here.” Charles transferred the puppy to one hand and reached inside his coat for his handkerchief. “What are you doing outside, anyway, without your wrap?”

Louisa took the handkerchief from him and said, “That doesn't matter now. What matters is that this–” she gestured towards the man with contempt  “–this monster will abuse the dog if you give it back. I think he stole it! “

“Now, sir–” Sammy Spadger finally came forward. “T' lass is upset, an' reetly so, but there's nowt ta say t' dog wor pinched. What I can say, an' will say, is that t' man did harm t' dog.”

Charles had grasped the situation now. He sighed with impatience. “Louisa, you cannot take a man's belongings no matter how vilely he treats them. I understand your outrage, but–”

Louisa stepped back from him, looking as if he had struck her. Her reddened eyes filled with tears. “Charles–” her voice trembled with disappointment “– I was so certain you would save it.”

Charles had frozen in mid-sentence; the weight of her dismay had fallen like a stone into the pit of his stomach. Louisa's eyes were rimmed in red. Her bosom was flushed with pink, and it heaved with a most painful breathing. The burden of her disillusion threatened to sink him into the ground.

The heavyset stranger stepped forward to jerk the dog out of his arms. Charles withheld it and gave him a withering glance.

“This matter has not been resolved.”

A gasp of pleasure burst from Louisa’s lips.

“Oh, Charles!”

He could not resist casting a look in her direction. The weight on his chest began to lift rapidly when he saw the sparkle in her eyes.

“How much do you want for the dog?”

The fellow started, surprised, but not displeased.

“ ‘Ow much?” he said. Charles could see the calculation going on behind his furtive eyes. “Well, ‘ers a good 'untin' dog. I figures–”

“I'll give you ten shillings.” Charles reached inside his pocket and threw some coins at the man, who started to protest. “Ten shillings, and no enquiry into where the dog came from.”

This silenced the stranger immediately. He tried to slink off into the dark, but Louisa had cause of her own to protest. She grabbed for his sleeve.

“Pay the man? Charles, how can you pay such a scoundrel when it's plain he's a criminal? Why only the most debased sort of–”

“Louisa...” Charles took her hand off the man's sleeve and forced the puppy back into her arms.  Then be removed his overcoat and spread it about her shoulders.

“You've been outside much too long,” he told her, guiding her to the door. “It's time for this business to be concluded and for you to come inside by the fire before you come down with a serious chill. Your nose is already red.”

“It's not the cold,” Louisa said, allowing him to shepherd her inside, “it's the dog.” She thrust the puppy back into his arms again. “I shall be quite all right if
you
hold it from now on.”

Halfway down the corridor, Charles halted and gaped at her. “The dog?”

“Yes, Charles,” Louisa said lightly. “I do not know what it is, for I love animals. But every time I come too close to a dog or a cat I begin to sneeze.”

On this surprising note, in which he detected no irony, Louisa hurried him into the private parlour and excused herself on the grounds that she must go up to her room to repair the damage the dog had done.

Stunned by this revelation, and by Louisa's obstinacy in rescuing the dog in spite of her affliction, Charles fell into a chair by the fire. Sammy Spadger came into the room to heap the grate with coals, for it was plain to see that both its occupants would need a thorough drying out.