Jillian Chantal

This week, the authors of Tuesday Tales are writing to the word prompt battery. I am still in the Regency Christmas tale. I don’t think I will ever finish it. We had a hurricane here in Pensacola recently and I missed Tuesday Tales because of it. Sorry.

Check out the other tales here.

As they rode on in the carriage—man and dog—keeping warm together, Charles thought back on his evening a few days ago when George took him to the wharf side pub and realized he should have already checked on his friend’s health. It was very likely he’d suffered a battery on his person. The place appeared to be about to be invaded by a number of thugs when Charles made his way out.

He looked down at the dog. “Once I get you settled at home and in front of a blazing fire with a nice piece of meat, I will be leaving you in the care of my valet. I hope you know how to behave inside a house.”

The animal let out a little “woof” which Charles chose to interpret as a yes.

He had moved his old blind nanny into his home and she had never allowed him to bring animals inside at the estate where he’d grown up.

Patting the creature, he said, “It is my property and she cannot deny me your presence, but it will be much better if you can act with dignity.”

The dog licked Charles’ hand. “We shall have to find a suitable name for you.”

The rest of the way home, Charles pondered the question of what to call the creature.

Still lost in thought, he didn’t realize the carriage had arrived at his destination until his driver opened the door. “We’re home, sir.”

“Yes. Right. Right.” Embarrassed to be found in such contemplation and having no idea how long he’d been sitting there, Charles passed the dog to the driver and exited the conveyance himself. “Go and get yourself and the horses warm.”

“Do you want me to take the dog to the stables?”

“No. I will take him inside.”

The driver’s eyes bulged but he did not say a word as he walked away.

 Charles noticed the man shaking his head.

Though he had never thought about it before, Charles now wondered what his servants’ opinions of him were that this man who had worked for him for a while would seem to be surprised he would want to take in a homeless animal.

Then he remembered. His false persona as a rogue and a cad probably was talked about among servants of other houses as well as his own. They probably all believed it. Not that he had ever brought a woman into his home—other than Nanny.