The Lady in Disguise

Chapter Eight (part 2)

When Emilia rounded the corner, she was a bit relieved that it was Mr. Byrne who'd been Mopsy's victim. Not that she had no sympathy at all for the way the rope was twisted around his legs as Mopsy bounced around the man like he was a maypole. But at least his opinion of Mopsy was already fairly bad, to the point that it couldn't get much worse.

"Could you call off this madra dúr before he topples me to my death?" Mr. Byrne growled when he caught sight of her.

The poor man must be quite alarmed if he was reduced to nonsense words.

She tried calling Mopsy's name very firmly, but that didn't stop him from, when he ran out of rope, attempting to climb Mr. Byrne's legs. And the both of them were very near the top of the stairs!

There was nothing else for it. She rushed forward, gripped his lapels, and toppled the man herself, just away from the stairs.

While the pair of them fell to the carpet with grunts of alarm, Mopsy couldn't have been more pleased and used their new positions to lick both of their faces in abject adoration, the silly darling.

"A Dhia, cabhraigh liom," he breathed, which sounded like more angry nonsense to her.

She was tempted to laugh, but resisted, certain Mr. Byrne would be even angrier if she did. She shielded herself from Mopsy's kisses, holding him away by the rope, and turned her head, wincing already at the murder she was likely to see in Mr. Byrne's eyes. Though he didn't look amused, he didn't seem angry, precisely, staring down at her as if torn between shock and annoyance and... was flabbergastment a word? She'd have to ask Miss Prudence later.

She suppressed a laugh again as Mopsy whined as if his heart was broken while she continued to hold him back, though she did give Mr. Byrne an apologetic smile. "If you wanted to, you could take this as a compliment."

He let out a surprised huff that almost seemed like a laugh. "Are you saying this is some kind of flirtation?"

Her eyes widened as she caught his meaning and, quite belatedly, realized their very unseemly position. "I meant from Mopsy. He is an awful flirt, but I wasn't..." She did let out a laugh, then — a very tittering, irritating one that made her wince all over again. Who was she around this man? "I didn't want you to fall to your death. That's all."

"Well, thanks for that consideration," he grunted, lifting himself up by his arms and attempting to stand, but as his legs were still bound, he could only roll to the side.

She reflected that his opinion of her might possibly be worse than his opinion of Mopsy. And she shouldn't care, but... "Are you hurt?"

"No. But no thanks to you, since you brought this monster into... Stop it, you!" Since his movements had spoiled her grip on the rope, Mopsy had renewed his attempts at showing his affection. The man tried to angle his head away as he worked at his bonds.

Emilia sat up and turned to him. "Here. Let me loosen this end and you can wriggle—"

"I think you've done enough," he broke in, batting her away with one hand, then poor Mopsy with the other. "Leave me be, diabhal!"

And he was still talking nonsense. "Don't be silly. I can—"

"If someone were to see us like this, Miss Crewe," he said stiffly, "they wouldn't find it silly at all. Do you care nothing for your good name?"

Emilia scrambled to her feet, feeling quite chastened at the idea of her being the one to finally ruin Miss Prudence's reputation. The girl was doing that well enough without her help. "Good God, I didn't think—"