Free Married to a Perfect Stranger by Jane Ashford Page A

through the fence and beckoning.” She gave Mary something very like a wink before slowly, with great dignity, walking away.
    Mary watched her meet the maid at the garden gate and saw that Eleanor was treated with marked deference. Even at a distance, Mary thought she could see affection as well as concern in the fussing. The servant took Eleanor’s sketchbook, offered an arm, and shook her head good-naturedly when it was refused. They walked together into Eleanor’s house. Mary sat back with a smile. She had made her first friend in this new place, and that made a great difference.
    She sat for a while longer, enjoying the autumn sun. She was just about to go in when her idyll was interrupted by a spate of furious barking. This was soon joined by the sound of racing footsteps and an inarticulate shout. Curious, Mary rose and went to look through the fence in the direction of the noise.
    Arthur emerged from one of the streets that gave onto the square. He was running as hard as he could, his skinny arms pumping, eyes wide and wild. The barking grew louder as a huge yellow dog appeared behind him, getting closer with each lunging stride. It was about to catch him.
    â€œArthur!” Mary ran over to the gate as the boy’s head swiveled toward her. She waved. He spotted her and veered in her direction. Mary pulled the gate open. Arthur hurtled through, and she shut it right on his heels, only just in time. The gigantic dog slammed sideways into the wrought iron pickets, bounced off, and stood slavering and barking, inches away. Its teeth were daunting, long and sharp.
    Mary backed up several steps, even though the animal couldn’t reach them through the fence. “What have you done?”
    â€œI never meant to hit him,” Arthur cried. “There was a ruddy great rat right outside the market stalls. Biggest rat I’ve ever seen. You think the London rats are some kind of special…?”
    â€œArthur!”
    He danced in place. “So I was going to kill the rat, see, as a favor to the hawkers.” His air of put-upon virtue was laughable. “And I’d’ve done it, too, but this great brute walked in front of me just as I let fly.”
    Now Mary saw the strings of the slingshot sticking out of his pocket. “You shot this dog?” She looked at the huge creature. It had settled into pacing and growling just outside the fence.
    â€œBy mistake,” Arthur insisted. “An accident, like.”
    â€œWho does it belong to?” Mary couldn’t decide if the appearance of an irate owner would be good news or bad news. He could call off the dog, but he might want to drag Arthur to a magistrate.
    â€œDon’t know,” Arthur replied. “Didn’t see anybody with him.”
    Mary examined the dog. He had no collar. His yellow coat was rough, but he didn’t appear underfed. She gazed up the street. No sign of anyone looking for him. Nor was there any reaction from the nearby houses, despite the earlier barking. She moved closer to the fence and slowly held out a hand. The dog rushed up and stuck his muzzle between two of the bars. He snapped and growled. Mary jumped back.
    â€œHave a care!” said Arthur. “He ain’t what you’d call friendly.”
    â€œI see that.” Mary scanned the streets again. They were empty; still no signs of life from any of the houses. It was certainly a quiet neighborhood. Or perhaps just a cautious one. From this angle, Eleanor’s house was blocked by a bushy evergreen. “Kate will see us eventually and come out.”
    â€œHer?” Arthur jeered. “She wouldn’t lift a finger against a dog like that.”
    Mary was afraid he was right. And what would she have done if she’d looked out her window and seen such an animal? Rushed out to confront it?
    â€œReckon I could scare him away,” Arthur said. He took out his sling. The dog erupted in a frenzy of