The Wild Child by Mary Jo Putney

the woodland air. This was no mock suicide, but a cry of genuine disaster. He broke into a run, wondering what could threaten her. Surely there were no dangerous animals in the park.
    He should have remembered that the most dangerous beast was man. Bursting into a small clearing, he saw Meriel lying on the turf and a strange man on top of her, both of them struggling frantically. A rage unlike anything he’d ever known blazed through him. “You bastard!”
    He dived into the fray and yanked the intruder off Meriel. Then he spun the man around and knocked him to the ground with one furious blow to the jaw. Dominic stood over him, fists clenched as he fought the desire to kick the rapist to a bloody pulp. “What kind of beast would assault a helpless girl?”
    “Helpless!” the man protested in a thick Shropshire accent. Bleeding marks on his face showed where Meriel’s nails had connected.“ ‘Twas her that came after me! I’m just tryin’ to keep her from scratchin‘
    my eyes out.”
    Dominic glanced at Meriel, who’d risen from the ground. She did not look like a delicate maiden who had just been attacked by a rapist. Narrow-eyed and self-possessed, she watched the stranger with an expression as feral as a wolf’s.
    A quick scan revealed a trapped fox, a dropped skinning knife, and a game bag stained with dried blood from past kills. “A poacher,” Dominic said with disgust.
    The man lurched to his feet. Meriel instantly sprang, swinging a sharpened stick at his face. Dominic caught her in mid-leap, pulling her hard against him. Her small body was taut with furious strength. Gods above, to think he’d begun to imagine she was more or less normal! If this was an example of the tantrums Mrs. Rector had mentioned, no wonder the girl was thought mad. She was genuinely dangerous.
    But her violence was not random, for she didn’t turn on him when he grabbed her. He gave silent thanks. Subduing the little hellcat without one of them being hurt would be difficult. Luckily she fell still, glaring at the poacher with lethal intensity.
    Seeing that the intruder was on the verge of flight, Dominic said dryly, “Stay put or I’ll turn her loose, and she’s fast. Very fast.”
    Watching Meriel warily, the man—or boy, really, he couldn’t be more than seventeen, and skinny at that—said, “I wouldn’t hurt the young miss. ‘Tis known she’s not right in her head.” He rubbed his bleeding cheek. “She came after me like… like…”
    “Like an avenging angel?” Hoping that Meriel would behave, Dominic released her before he became too distracted by the feel of her body against his. “No need to attack him, Lady Meriel. The law can handle a poacher. Seven years of transportation. New South Wales, I should imagine. Or maybe Van Diemen’s Land.”
    The poacher turned white. “Please, sir, I meant no harm. What are a few more hares to a lord like you?
    You don’t need them. Nor does she, with a fortune to last a thousand lifetimes.” He bit his lip, looking very young. “If I’m transported, my mam and the little ‘uns will starve. It’s been hard since my pa died. There’s no work.”
    Dominic’s anger began to fade. He’d never approved of the law that made it a major crime for a landless man to take small game for the cooking pot. “I think Lady Meriel’s fury stemmed from the fact that you hurt that fox, and to what purpose? Foxes are vermin, not game animals.”
    “If you’re hungry enough, a fox isn’t bad eating,” the boy said bitterly. “Though a hare would’ve been better.”
    Dominic studied the boy’s bony face and shabby, outgrown clothing. Such stark need put his own situation into perspective.
    He might be a younger son with no expectations, but he’d never missed any meals. He dug into his pocket, hoping he had some money with him. Finding a coin, he pulled it out and tossed it to the boy. “Take this and buy food for your family. And if you value your freedom, don’t ever