the wallpaper.
Harold rubbed his eyes. "I do say, can't a chap get a decent night's sleep in this mausoleum?"
"What the devil is it?" Herbert bellowed, tripping over Harvey's hem. "Is the house afire?"
They spilled onto the lawn as a closed police wagon rolled to a halt in the drive. Rusty bars blocked the windows. The Winthrop carriage clattered to a halt behind the wagon, the driver hanging his head in sheepish defeat.
Justin stared as a uniformed bobby climbed off the driver's seat, tipped his tall hat in a crisp greeting,
and moved to swing open the barred door at the back of the wagon.
A demure, white-gloved hand emerged. At least Emily had worn her gloves, Justin thought crazily. The bobby took her hand with obvious deference and Emily descended, favoring him with a regal smile.
Justin started for her, determined to wring an explanation from her charming little neck.
Before he could reach her, a snarling, fanged monster exploded from the back of the wagon and lunged straight for his throat.
Chapter 21
(You should thank God you were blessed
with your mama's eyes; it more than makes up
for being cursed with my hair.)
Justin backed away from the slavering beast, instinctively drawing it away from Emily. The deafening shrill of his sisters' screams was almost drowned out by its bass-throated rumble. Something had come flying out of the wagon behind the creature. It stumbled along for a few steps before Justin realized it
was Penfeld, and he was attached to the monster by Emily's blue velvet sash. The dog's massive spiked collar might as well have been around the valet's neck. The beast dragged him across the slick lawn, eyeing Justin hungrily. The horses whinnied and tossed their heads in terror.
"What is the meaning of this, Penfeld?" Justin said, his voice soft enough not to spook the animal but lethal enough to be heard by them all.
Penfeld dug his heels into the ground and strained against the dog's squat weight. His whiskers stuck
out in matted tufts. His immaculate jacket was torn and his white shirt smeared with mud.
His brown eyes were entreating. "You told me to buy her a puppy, sir."
Justin eyed the thing. White foam dripped from its bared fangs. "That's not a puppy. It's a bull."
As if offended by his words, the dog lunged again, dragging Penfeld flat. The monster's snapping teeth missed Justin's crotch by half an inch.
"A bulldog to be precise," Emily said, waltzing between Penfeld and the dog. She patted the creature's massive head and scratched behind his ears. "There, now. That's a nice Pudding. Down, boy."
The dog sank to its stocky haunches at her feet, drooling adoringly on her slippers. Justin was surprised
it didn't purr.
"Pudding?" he echoed ominously.
"What did you want me to call him? Fluffy?" Her smile was angelic. Justin's stomach spasmed a warning.
The bobby stepped between them, pulling off his hat. Another policeman lurked in his shadow.
He twirled his bushy mustache. "I'm turribly sorry for the disturbance, sir, but I thought it best if we escorted the young lady home. After we arrested her the first time-"
"The first time?" Justin bit off, glowering at Emily.
"It weren't really her fault, Your Grace. The dog got away from your man and the door to the crystal shop was open." He brightened visibly. "Once she assured the shopkeeper the Duke of Winthrop would pay for all the damages, he turned out to be quite a reasonable chap."
Behind him, one of the husbands moaned. Justin closed his eyes and counted slowly under his breath.
"And the second time, sir . . ."
His eyes flew open.
The other policeman chimed in helpfully. "That would have been the elephant, wouldn't it, Clarence?"
Justin swallowed. "She let an elephant run through the crystal shop?"
"Oh, no, sir," the bobby reassured him. "The elephant ran through the zoo. After she slipped the latch
on its cage."
Justin narrowed his eyes. He would like to see her caged. And chained. Preferably to his bed.
Her smile faded an inkling beneath his glare. "I was simply trying to feed him a peanut. I couldn't reach his trunk."
The second policeman chuckled. "I didn't know those old nannies could move so fast. You should have seen the perambulators flying!"
The bobby rubbed the back of his neck. Justin could have sworn he was blushing. "Of course, the last time we were more concerned with her own health. Hyde Park's a bit cold to be swimming this time of year, especially without-" He stopped dead and looked over his shoulder, aware for the first time of
the women's avid gazes and the heated puffs of fog emerging from the men's lips. He leaned over and whispered something in Justin's ear.
Justin dropped his gaze to Emily as if seeing her for the first time. Her curls glistened with damp. Her dress- the charming girlish confection he had chosen in order to keep himself at bay-clung to her
skin in all the wrong places, the pristine white going almost sheer over the dusky hint of her nipples.
Her lips quirked in an apologetic smile.
He took one step toward her. Then another. Her smile faltered. "What are you going to do?"
He smiled pleasantly. "Murder you."
"Oh dear," Herbert murmured.
Moaning, Lily pressed a scented handkerchief to her lips. The bobbies exchanged a nervous glance, wondering if the rumors they'd heard about the savage young duke were true.
The dog growled. Justin gave it one look and it buried its head beneath its paws, whimpering. Justin stretched out a hand toward Penfeld. "Give me the sash."
"Whatever for, sir?"
"I'm going to strangle her with it."
"Very good, sir. Right away." He began to tug at the knot around the dog's collar.
"Penfeld!" Emily wailed. As she backed away from Justin, her feet slid on the dead grass.
He stalked her, grinning like a vengeful demon. "Why make these poor policemen come all the way
out here for nothing? They can use their wagon to cart me off to jail. Think what a nice, peaceful place prison will be after living with you for a day. I can while away the hours with thieves, ruffians, and other killers."
Her voice trembled. "This isn't very sporting. You can't murder me in front of all these witnesses."
She came up against the trunk of an oak. His fingers closed ever so gently around her throat, his broad thumbs seeking and caressing her throbbing pulse points. "Why not? They can testify before the House
of Lords that I was provoked. They won't hang me. They might even give me a medal of valor."
The pads of his fingertips combed through the delicate fleece at her nape. Her shiver vibrated through his taut body like the stroke of fingers against harp strings. A shiver of what? Justin wondered. Cold? Fear? Reaction to the heat blasting like a furnace from his body? A glint of triumph sharpened in her smoky eyes. The tip of her pink tongue moistened her lips. Taunting him. Tempting him.