Jillian Chantal

This week the writers of Tuesday Tales are writing to the word prompt brown. I am still writing the book that will never end. Sorry it published early. My crazy WordPress got ahead of my setting the timer. 🙂

Check out the other tales here

Charles looked down at the animal. “Come on, Dog.  Let’s get this over with.”

To his surprise, the creature followed him as if he knew where he was going. In fact, the animal reached the front door before Charles and even before the butler opened it.

The butler, Masterson, wrinkled his nose at the dog and glanced from Charles to the animal and back. “What is thins, sir?”

“It’s a dog, Masterson. Have you never seen one before?” Charles laughed at the expression on his butler’s face. The man’s brow as furrowed over his brown eyes so tightly it might have been a caterpillar before the chrysalis phase. All hairy and fuzzy.

Charles suppressed his laughter as it would not do to have Masterson’s dignity insulted. He could tease the man a bit, but he would never want to cause offense. After all, they had only been together since Charles bought the house in town earlier in the year.

“Is the creature to come inside then, sir?”

“Of course. Of course, for you see, I have adopted him. He was a pitiful sight abandoned on the street and I could not leave him there to starve or die of exposure to the elements.” Charles nodded in order to get Masterson to agree with him that he had done the correct thing in saving the animal. “You understand, right?”

“Yes, sir. I do, but would it not be better to take him to the stable to have a bathe and feeding there? It is warm and dry, as you are aware.”

“This dog is going to be my companion. He will live in the house. I have no objection to hi having a bath, but he will be safely ensconced in my quarters when I return from an errand I must undertake at this moment. Do you understand?” Charles realized in that moment that he needed a companion in the worst possible way. He had been too lonely since the death of his beloved. He had almost forgotten what it was like to care for someone else. Furry or not.

“Yes, sir. I meant no disrespect.” Masterson’s face reddened at the censure.

“I know, Masterson. I am in a hurry and I did not mean any harm. I want the dog to have been fed and bathed when I return. That is all I meant.”

Masterson nodded as if he understood, but Charles could see he had wounded the man’s pride.

As he turned to leave to walk to George’s house in the still frigid air, he vowed to try to be kinder to his servants. He was still getting used to being the one in charge of the household. Being the younger son of an earl had not prepared him for such. His army career made him even less likely to know how to run a home. Sleeping in tents in sometimes muddy fields was not the way to learn management of a London residence.