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Will had dropped Miss Whittleton at Marford House after one of their outings in the curricle and had returned to Grosvenor Square when he became aware of a disturbance in the gardens at the centre of the square. The barking of a dog alerted him to the nature of the disturbance, and he sighed inwardly. The girls’ wretched animal was a perfect nuisance, and the sooner it could be got rid of, the better.
But then there was the sound of another dog barking, a higher pitched rather frantic yapping sound, followed almost at once by female shouts and then, worryingly, screams.
Leaping down from the curricle, assuming his groom would take charge of the horses, Will raced across the road and vaulted over the railings surrounding the gardens. It was not difficult to find the cause of the problem. Rosie and Angie, both screaming, and another young lady, also screaming, looked on as two dogs fought it out on the path. Meanwhile, a Negro footman was attempting, with little success, to separate the two combatants.
Will had his whip still in his hand, so it was not difficult to gain the attention of the two dogs. At the first lull in proceedings, the Negro swooped in and swept the smaller dog out of harm’s way. The Fletcher dog, incensed by this cavalier treatment, immediately attacked the fellow’s legs. He shrieked, and almost dropped the dog he was carrying, but Will beat the Fletcher dog with his whip until it backed away.
“Go, go, go!” Will cried, and the footman grabbed the arm of the other young lady and dragged her away, as Will deployed his whip to keep the Fletcher dog away from them. There was a trailing lead, he now saw, so he grabbed the lead and held it fast as the Negro, his mistress and the small dog disappeared.
“That is the final straw,” he said through clenched teeth. “This uncivilised animal has to go.”
“Oh no, Will, no!” cried Rosie, her face awash with tears. “He just needs teaching, that is all.”
“And he shall have it,” Will said, “but not here. He can go to Chadwell Park and the grooms can beat some manners into him.”
“They must not be cruel to him,” Rosie sobbed. “Poor thing, he knows no other way. He had been badly treated, Will. All he needs is a little kindness.”
“We will discuss this at greater length once the creature has been confined and can do no harm. Rosie, he cannot be allowed to attack other dogs, or people, either. You must see that. How did he come to be loose?”
“We had him on the lead, and he was perfectly well behaved,” Rosie said, “but then he saw the other dog and he just… got away from me. He is very strong, when roused. Please, Will, do not send him away.”
“Well, I think he is untrainable,” Angie said. “Truly, Rosie, we have done our best, but he cannot be permitted toattackpeople. Did you see how he went for that big black fellow? That is not right, not at all. Will, I do not know what we can do to make amends. We always hoped to meet the lady with the pretty little dog, but not like this! It is quite dreadful, and Mama will be horrified when she hears about it.”
And that made Rosie cry in good earnest.
~~~~~
The following day saw Will, Rosie and Angie, armed with a vast bouquet of hothouse flowers, ascending the steps of the house next door but one.
“We are come to enquire after the young lady with the dog,” Will explained to the butler. “Our own dog was excessively badly behaved, so we are here to apologise and assure the young lady that he has been banished to Hertfordshire and will not trouble her again. We would very much like to be assured that the young lady and her dog, and the footman also, have taken no serious harm.”
The butler took Will’s card, and disappeared upstairs as they waited, rather subdued, in the hall. Rosie was still inclined to be tearful, but Angie, always the more pragmatic of the two, was hopeful that an abject apology would see them absolved of too much blame.
“For dogs will be dogs,” she said with a shrug. “We cannot expect them always to be perfectly behaved.”
It was not the butler who tripped light-footed down the stairs, however, but a lady of above thirty, elegantly attired and smiling, which Will took as a good sign.
“Mr Fletcher?” she said, the card in her hand. “How delightful to meet you at last, although not under the most auspicious circumstances. And this must be the famous Miss Rose Fletcher and Miss Angela Fletcher.”
“You know more of us than we do of you, madam,” Will said, as he rose from his bow.
“Mrs Eliot Armitage. What lovely flowers! Are they for Violet? Miss Violet Barantine, that is, my husband’s ward, to whose dog yours took exception yesterday. Do come upstairs. Violet will be so pleased to see you. She has talked about you so much, having seen you from the window with your dog but never managed to meet you until yesterday. Everyone is well, by the way. No injuries to speak of, although Henry’s stockings were shredded.”
She ushered them up the stairs to a pretty drawing room, where a scene of such domesticity prevailed that Will was taken aback. On the floor, a child of about two played with wooden toys. Sprawled out beside him, his coat cast aside, was a man of golden-haired good looks, utterly absorbed with the child.
An older woman looked on complacently, while the lovely young lady, Miss Barantine, sat on a sofa with her dog. Will thought she looked familiar, but could not recall where they might have met. Behind her, the Negro footman stood watchfully. The young lady jumped up as they came in.
“Oh, itisyou! How delightful. We have wanted to meet you for ever such a long time, but Mr Armitage and Evie were not here, and so we could not even send a card round. Are the flowers for me? How lovely! Oh, what a wonderful scent. Henry, would you please…?”
The Negro took the flowers from her, promptly handed them to another footman and then resumed his station behind Miss Barantine.
Mrs Armitage calmly made the introductions to her husband, who rose from the floor, clutching the child in his arms, and the older woman, who was her aunt, Mrs Scudamore. Having ascertained once more that everyone, not forgetting the footman, was unharmed, Rosie and Angie at once sat down either side of Miss Barantine, the three of them chattering away as if they had known each other for years.
After a brief exchange of commonplaces, Mr Armitage said, “My ward is thrilled to meet your sisters at last, Fletcher. Unfortunately, my wife and I were detained in the country, and I did not wish her to make new friends until we could be here ourselves. She is inclined to be impetuous, but I prefer to be cautious ahead of her marriage next month. Once she is married, she may choose her friends for herself, but until then, one cannot be too careful, however over-zealous that might appear.”
“My husband is very protective of his ladies,” his wife said with an affectionate smile.
“Well, naturally, my dear,” he said with an answering smile. “What husband and guardian would be otherwise?”
