Scoundrel With A Noble Heart (sequel of Disgraceful)

Chapter 89

Hello, so sorry for the late update. I've been juggling with my kids and my job recently, but I hope to deliver the best for all of you. Your comments are very helpful, so please tell me what you think about this story, about the characters, and what you like.

The harsh words scraped against Marguerite's ears, conjuring nightmarish visions that coiled in her gut. Guilt twisted like a viper as she questioned sending Jacob back in.

Relief washed over her in a tidal wave when a moment later Jacob emerged from the entrance, his soot-streaked face etched with grim determination. A whimper drew her attention to a small, trembling form nestled in his arms – Chester.
"Jake! Thank goodness!"

Returning the child in her arms to its mother, Marguerite sprinted toward them. Oblivious to the true source of her panic, Jacob mistook her frantic dash to him for concern over the puppy. He chuckled, passing the wriggling ball of fur into her arms.

"This little boy is shaken, but unharmed."
Marguerite reflexively took the pup, but her gaze darted over Jacob, searching for any sign of injury. Relief battled with a surge of protectiveness.

"You, Jacob? Are you alright?"
He winced, a grimace momentarily flashing across his face despite his nonchalant tone. "A  few singed hairs, nothing more."

The landlady, a flurry of anxious clucking, bustled over and yanked Jacob back.

"Saints preserve you, milord! A beast is a beast, but a man like you...irreplaceable." Her voice hitched with a tremor. "Promise this foolish woman you won't tempt fate again!"

Soon afterwards, villagers streamed in to help fight the fire, and a local gentry dispatched his men with a benevolent offer of shelter. The weary travelers gratefully accepted. As Marguerite envisioned a night of rest in a respectable home, Phil, the driver, materialized before them, his finger pointed accusingly at Chester.

"That cursed dog is a harbinger of misfortune!" he declared, his voice laced with venom. "Wherever it goes, disaster follows. Its former owner lost their home, our carriage met with misfortune after the lady took it in, and now this inn burns to the ground! It can't be a mere coincidence!"

A wave of strangled gasps swept through the crowd. Faces contorted in a mix of fear and disgust as they eyed Chester, who whimpered and shrunk into Maggie's protective embrace.

"This is ridiculous." Jacob laughed, narrowing his eyes at Phil.
"Nobody will ever believe such nonsense, so I suggest you stop humiliating yourself and get lost."

But nobody seemed to agree with him. Murmurs began to ripple through the group, punctuated by accusatory stares. A tall figure detached itself from the crowd, one of the gentry's men who came to relocate them. His face grim under the flickering torchlight. He cleared his throat before addressing them.
"I'm terribly sorry, sir," he said to Jacob, his voice cold. "But I'm afraid the dog cannot enter my master's house."

"We must demolish that dog. It can't keep bringing misfortune around." Phil declared.
Marguerite recoiled. "Demolish?" she whispered, her voice trembling. "You can't be serious! It's just a dog. How can you believe in such superstitions?"

"It's the truth, Miss," Phil insisted. "Trouble seems to find you ever since the beast arrived. It's best you give it up before worse comes to worst."

"Never!" Marguerite retorted, her voice trembling slightly despite her defiance.

The landlady suddenly exclaimed, her voice raw with emotion. "Then leave! All of you! I lost everything in a single night! This whole building nearly lost lives, or worse! We can't risk another tragedy!" Her voice cracked, and she choked back a sob. Her husband, his face etched with worry, reached out to comfort her. The gentry's servants watched with a mixture of pity and exasperation.
A heavy silence descended. A sigh escaped the lips of one of the servants. "Very well, sir," he addressed Jacob. "You and the lady may accompany us. But the dog must go."