Once and Always
Page 35
The rifle slid through Jason’s numb fingers until the barrel was pointing harmlessly at the ground. “Victoria,” he said in a calm voice that contradicted his taut, pale features, “that isn’t Willie. Willie is a collie, and I lent him to the Collingwoods three days ago for breeding.”
Victoria’s hand stilled in midstroke.
“Unless I’ve lost my sight and my mind in the last minute, I would guess the animal you are clinging to like a mother protecting her babe is at least half wolf.”
Victoria swallowed and slowly stood up. “Even if he isn’t Willie, he’s still a dog, not a wolf,” she persisted stubbornly. “He knows the command ‘Come.’ ”
“He’s part dog,” Jason contradicted. Intending to pull her away from the animal, he stepped forward and seized her arm—an action that brought an instantaneous reaction from the dog, which crouched down, snarling and baring its fangs, the hair standing up on its back. Jason released her arm, his fingers slowly working toward the trigger of the rifle. “Move away from him, Victoria.”
Victoria’s eyes were riveted on the gun. “Don’t do it!” she warned hysterically. “I won’t let you. If you shoot him, I’ll shoot you, I swear I will. I’m a better shot than I am a swimmer—anyone at home can tell you that. Jason!” she cried brokenly. “He’s a dog and he’s only trying to protect me from you. Anyone could understand that! He’s my friend. Please, please don’t shoot him. Please . . .”
Weak with relief, she watched Jason’s hand relax on the rifle and again the barrel slid harmlessly toward the grass “Stop hovering over him,” he ordered. “I won’t shoot him.”
“Will you give me your word as a gentleman?” Victoria persisted, her body still blocking Wolf as she sought to prevent a fatal confrontation between the courageous dog that was trying to protect her and the man with the deadly weapon who was prepared to kill him for doing it.
“I give you my word.”
Victoria started to move away, but then she remembered something Jason had told her and quickly put herself between the two combatants again. Eyeing Jason suspiciously, she reminded him, “You told me you aren’t a gentleman and you said you have no principles. How can I know you’ll honor your given word as a gentleman should?”
Jason’s pantherish eyes gleamed with reluctant amusement as he looked at the defenseless young woman who was simultaneously championing a wolf and mutinously defying him. “I’ll honor it. Now, stop behaving like Joan of Arc.”
“I’m not certain I believe you. Would you swear it to Lord Collingwood as well?”
“You’re pressing your luck, my dear,” Jason warned softly.
Although quietly stated, it had the undeniable ring of a threat, and Victoria heeded it, not because she feared the consequences but because she felt instinctively that Jason would do as he promised. She nodded and moved away, but the dog’s huge body remained poised for attack, its threatening gaze riveted on Jason.
He, in turn, was watching the animal, the rifle still ready at his side. In desperation, Victoria turned to the dog. “Sit down!” she ordered, not really expecting he would obey the command.
The dog hesitated and then sat at her side.
“There, you see!” Victoria threw up her hands in relief. “He’s been well trained by someone. And he knows your gun can hurt him—that’s why he keeps watching it. He’s smart.”
“Very smart,” Jason agreed with dry mockery. “Smart enough to live right under my nose while I, and everyone else for miles around, have been hunting for the ‘wolf’ that’s been raiding chicken houses and terrorizing the village.”
“Is that the reason you go hunting every day?” When Jason nodded, Victoria unleashed a torrent of words, all designed to forestall Jason from saying the dog couldn’t remain on the estate. “Well, he isn’t a wolf, he’s a dog, you can see that. And I’ve been feeding him every day, so he’ll have no reason to raid chicken houses anymore. He’s very smart, too, and he understands what I say.”
“Then perhaps you could mention to him that it’s impolite to sit there waiting for the opportunity to bite the hand that, indirectly at least, has been feeding him.”
Victoria cast an anxious look at her overeager protector and then at Jason. “I think if you reach for me again and I tell him not to snarl at you, he’ll get the idea. Go ahead, reach for me.”
“I’d like to wring your neck,” Jason said, half-seriously, but he grasped her arm as she asked. The animal crouched, ready to spring, snarling.
“No!” Victoria said sharply, and the wolf called Willie relaxed, hesitated, and licked her hand.
Victoria expelled a breath of relief. “There, you see, it worked. I’ll take excellent care of him—and he won’t be the least bother to anyone if you let him stay.”
Jason wasn’t proof against either her courage or the imploring look in those brilliant blue eyes. “Chain your dog,” he sighed. When she started to object, he said, “I’ll have Northrup inform the gamekeepers that he’s not to be harmed, but if he ranges onto someone else’s property, they’ll shoot him on sight. He hasn’t tried to attack anyone, but farmers value their chickens, in addition to their families.”
He prevented further argument by the simple expedient of turning to greet the Earl and Countess of Collingwood, and for the first time, Victoria remembered their presence.
Mortification made her feel hot all over as she forced herself to face the woman Jason apparently regarded as a model of propriety. Instead of the haughty disdain she expected to see on the countess’s face, Lady Collingwood was regarding her with something that looked remarkably like laughing admiration. Jason made the introductions and then strolled away with the earl to discuss some sort of business dealings, heartlessly leaving Victoria to acquit herself as best she could with the countess.
Lady Collingwood was the first to break the uneasy silence. “May I walk with you while you chain your dog?”
Victoria nodded, rubbing her damp palms on her skirts. “You—you must think I’m the most ill-behaved female alive,” she said miserably.
“No,” Caroline Collingwood said, biting her lower lip to control her mirth, “but I think you are undeniably the bravest one.”
Victoria was stunned. “Because I’m not afraid of Willie?”
Victoria’s hand stilled in midstroke.
“Unless I’ve lost my sight and my mind in the last minute, I would guess the animal you are clinging to like a mother protecting her babe is at least half wolf.”
Victoria swallowed and slowly stood up. “Even if he isn’t Willie, he’s still a dog, not a wolf,” she persisted stubbornly. “He knows the command ‘Come.’ ”
“He’s part dog,” Jason contradicted. Intending to pull her away from the animal, he stepped forward and seized her arm—an action that brought an instantaneous reaction from the dog, which crouched down, snarling and baring its fangs, the hair standing up on its back. Jason released her arm, his fingers slowly working toward the trigger of the rifle. “Move away from him, Victoria.”
Victoria’s eyes were riveted on the gun. “Don’t do it!” she warned hysterically. “I won’t let you. If you shoot him, I’ll shoot you, I swear I will. I’m a better shot than I am a swimmer—anyone at home can tell you that. Jason!” she cried brokenly. “He’s a dog and he’s only trying to protect me from you. Anyone could understand that! He’s my friend. Please, please don’t shoot him. Please . . .”
Weak with relief, she watched Jason’s hand relax on the rifle and again the barrel slid harmlessly toward the grass “Stop hovering over him,” he ordered. “I won’t shoot him.”
“Will you give me your word as a gentleman?” Victoria persisted, her body still blocking Wolf as she sought to prevent a fatal confrontation between the courageous dog that was trying to protect her and the man with the deadly weapon who was prepared to kill him for doing it.
“I give you my word.”
Victoria started to move away, but then she remembered something Jason had told her and quickly put herself between the two combatants again. Eyeing Jason suspiciously, she reminded him, “You told me you aren’t a gentleman and you said you have no principles. How can I know you’ll honor your given word as a gentleman should?”
Jason’s pantherish eyes gleamed with reluctant amusement as he looked at the defenseless young woman who was simultaneously championing a wolf and mutinously defying him. “I’ll honor it. Now, stop behaving like Joan of Arc.”
“I’m not certain I believe you. Would you swear it to Lord Collingwood as well?”
“You’re pressing your luck, my dear,” Jason warned softly.
Although quietly stated, it had the undeniable ring of a threat, and Victoria heeded it, not because she feared the consequences but because she felt instinctively that Jason would do as he promised. She nodded and moved away, but the dog’s huge body remained poised for attack, its threatening gaze riveted on Jason.
He, in turn, was watching the animal, the rifle still ready at his side. In desperation, Victoria turned to the dog. “Sit down!” she ordered, not really expecting he would obey the command.
The dog hesitated and then sat at her side.
“There, you see!” Victoria threw up her hands in relief. “He’s been well trained by someone. And he knows your gun can hurt him—that’s why he keeps watching it. He’s smart.”
“Very smart,” Jason agreed with dry mockery. “Smart enough to live right under my nose while I, and everyone else for miles around, have been hunting for the ‘wolf’ that’s been raiding chicken houses and terrorizing the village.”
“Is that the reason you go hunting every day?” When Jason nodded, Victoria unleashed a torrent of words, all designed to forestall Jason from saying the dog couldn’t remain on the estate. “Well, he isn’t a wolf, he’s a dog, you can see that. And I’ve been feeding him every day, so he’ll have no reason to raid chicken houses anymore. He’s very smart, too, and he understands what I say.”
“Then perhaps you could mention to him that it’s impolite to sit there waiting for the opportunity to bite the hand that, indirectly at least, has been feeding him.”
Victoria cast an anxious look at her overeager protector and then at Jason. “I think if you reach for me again and I tell him not to snarl at you, he’ll get the idea. Go ahead, reach for me.”
“I’d like to wring your neck,” Jason said, half-seriously, but he grasped her arm as she asked. The animal crouched, ready to spring, snarling.
“No!” Victoria said sharply, and the wolf called Willie relaxed, hesitated, and licked her hand.
Victoria expelled a breath of relief. “There, you see, it worked. I’ll take excellent care of him—and he won’t be the least bother to anyone if you let him stay.”
Jason wasn’t proof against either her courage or the imploring look in those brilliant blue eyes. “Chain your dog,” he sighed. When she started to object, he said, “I’ll have Northrup inform the gamekeepers that he’s not to be harmed, but if he ranges onto someone else’s property, they’ll shoot him on sight. He hasn’t tried to attack anyone, but farmers value their chickens, in addition to their families.”
He prevented further argument by the simple expedient of turning to greet the Earl and Countess of Collingwood, and for the first time, Victoria remembered their presence.
Mortification made her feel hot all over as she forced herself to face the woman Jason apparently regarded as a model of propriety. Instead of the haughty disdain she expected to see on the countess’s face, Lady Collingwood was regarding her with something that looked remarkably like laughing admiration. Jason made the introductions and then strolled away with the earl to discuss some sort of business dealings, heartlessly leaving Victoria to acquit herself as best she could with the countess.
Lady Collingwood was the first to break the uneasy silence. “May I walk with you while you chain your dog?”
Victoria nodded, rubbing her damp palms on her skirts. “You—you must think I’m the most ill-behaved female alive,” she said miserably.
“No,” Caroline Collingwood said, biting her lower lip to control her mirth, “but I think you are undeniably the bravest one.”
Victoria was stunned. “Because I’m not afraid of Willie?”
