Cade's Justice. Pat Tracy
well.” The man pondered for a moment, deepening the lined indentations upon his ruddy brow. Then his reflective expression cleared. “I’ll call him Duncan.”
The name, coming as it did from nowhere, meant nothing to Emma, yet she saw Mr. Cade stiffen.
“Is that acceptable, sir?”
Her gaze flicked between the waiting servant and his frowning employer. For reasons unknown to her, the name Broadbent had selected must hold special meaning for both men.
“I couldn’t care less what you call the mongrel.”
At the indifferent response, a look of sorrow seemed to touch the troll’s eyes. “Aye, sir. Come along, Duncan. I’d say you’ve waited long enough for your supper.”
After flashing a reproachful glance at her, Broadbent sank his fingers into the fur at the back of the dog’s neck. The animal allowed itself to be led a couple of steps before stopping. Having only a vague idea as to its basic disposition, Emma tensed again.
The servant wisely removed his hand from the animal. Whimpering softly, it trotted toward her.
“Go along with Mr. Broadbent,” she urged, feeling awkward at having others overhear her stilted admonition to the uncooperative canine. “He’s going to feed you. There now, be a good doggy. Uh…Duncan, I’ll be perfectly all right on my own.”
He held her stare, as if by looking into her eyes he could somehow fathom what was expected of him. She smiled reassuringly, aware from the corner of her eye that Mr. Cade was studying her.
Without any warning, the hound planted its paws on the rug and shook his hairy body free of the excess moisture he’d been obliged to carry. A misting spray of rainwater, mingling with disgusting, foul-smelling dog residue, enveloped both her and Mr. Cade.
Emma jumped back. “Oh! Stop, you naughty dog!”
Mr. Cade stepped aside to avoid the full brunt of his dirty baptism. Mortified by the animal’s rudeness, she closed her eyes.
“He really isn’t my dog,” she said, again compelled to disavow any connection to the unruly stray following Broadbent from the room.
“So you’ve said, Miss—” Mr. Cade broke off, his lethal gaze fairly boring into her. “I assume, whereas yonder hellhound has no name, you, on the other hand, come with both a first and a last one.”
The man’s sarcasm was a chore to overlook. Nevertheless, considering that desperate circumstances had brought her to his home in the wee hours of the morning, she strove to contain her growing dislike toward Courtney’s uncle.
“Of course I do.”
“And that would be…” he prompted mockingly.
His insulting tone made her feel like a common beetle who had strayed beyond its prescribed territory and was in imminent danger of being squashed beneath Mr. Cade’s finely stitched leather slipper.
“Emma January Step,” she pronounced through clinched teeth, intimidated against her will by the man’s arrogance.
He raised a black eyebrow. “And what is it you want, Miss Step, other than to invade my home and terrorize those in my employ?”
A hot blush singed her cheeks. “I apologize for the dog. I had no idea he would follow me.” She pushed at the strands of hair that had fallen into her eyes: “You see, I have a matter of the utmost urgency to discuss, and your servant wouldn’t summon you so I could explain what’s happened.”
“I must remember to give him a raise.”
“A raise?” she repeated, infuriated by the man’s puffedup attitude.
He nodded. “I value any employee safeguarding my privacy.” His lips curved mockingly. “Especially after I’ve retired for the night.”
Emma rolled her eyes. It was a bit much to hear the conceited man pronounce such high-handed drivel. Even without a crown, he was more overbearing than any far-eastern potentate she’d read about. Had Broadbent been present, she wouldn’t have been surprised to see Mr. Cade pitch him a bone, or perhaps pat the servant on his head. Goodness, it required little imagination to picture Broadbent licking his master’s hand in the same devoted manner as the dog.
“How much?” Emma inquired briskly.
“I beg your pardon?” Mr. Cade drawled softly, still viewing her with all the warmth he would have bestowed upon that upstart beetle.
“How much of a raise will you give Mr. Broadbent?”
Growing up as an orphan, Emma had learned one lesson above all others. People might occasionally make generous offers, but it was rare indeed for any of those teary-voiced promises to be fulfilled. It probably didn’t reflect to her credit, but she had a passionate aversion to hollow pledges and the people who issued them.
“Are you thinking of an additional dollar a week?” she continued, undaunted by Mr. Cade’s now glowering countenance. “Or did you have something more substantial in mind?”
“Miss Step, am I to believe you and your hairy mongrel invaded my home in order to negotiate an increase of salary for Broadbent?”
Recalling abruptly the urgent business that had sent her flying out the academy’s door in the wee hours of the morning, Emma winced. “No, sir, of course not. I’m afraid I have very distressing news.”
“And that would be…”
“It’s Courtney.” Emma closed the small distance that separated her from the girl’s uncle. “I regret to inform you, she’s run away.”
Emma waited for an outburst of alarm from Mr. Cade. He stunned her by remaining unruffled.
“I see.”
Frustrated by his lack of emotion, Emma’s hands clenched. “As I told your servant, I’m a teacher at the Hempshire Academy, and your niece is one of my students. I spoke earlier in the evening with Courtney and shared some disquieting news regarding the school’s future. I decided to look in on her before going to bed. That’s when I discovered she was gone.”
“I see.”
If he pronounced that inane, wholly useless phrase again, she would slap his insolent face.
When that ferocious thought imprinted itself upon Emma’s mind, she flinched. Good grief, she was not the kind of woman to entertain visions of violence. She was a tutor of refined young women.
“I realize how upset you must be,” she said, deciding to credit the man’s lack of emotion to acute distress. “I imagine you are somewhat in a state of shock.”
“Am I?”
Emma nodded. “Perhaps a glass of…sherry would calm you.”
He tilted his head. “Do I appear to be uncalm, Miss Step?”
Actually, he looked irritatingly unaffected, but she could think of no other explanation for his lack of concern. It was inconceivable that she faced a monster incapable of caring about his own niece’s welfare.
Instinctively she reached out and touched his silk sleeve. “I collect that being awakened from a sound sleep and discovering a hostile dog holding one’s servant at bay would discomfit anyone. To be informed of Courtney’s disappearance on the heels of such a misadventure is bound to have discombobulated you, sir.”
“I wasn’t exactly in deep slumber.”
“No?”
He shook his head. “I was already on my way downstairs, to get some work done in my study.”