Jerusha's eyes turned toward the sight that had the caught Master Grimsley's attention, one eyebrow raised in consternation as she regarded the strange, overly-friendly dog. Her eyes traveled upward to meet Charles' still too enthralled with his lady companion's presence to notice the pitiful canine attempting to gain his attention. 

"No, Master Grimsley," the vampire said with a small, resigned sigh, "Lord Wright would have not a thing in this world to do with the poor creature. His kennel of fox hounds are quite the envy among his peers, if I understand such things correctly. So [i]no.[/i] No, he will be doing no such thing, I fear. Charles is not a bad man. Not in the least truly, but he has no love for sickly, ill-bred curs."

The vampire was not necessarily contented with Nestor's words. She was no fool, and certainly did not suffer them lightly. Nestor Grimsley was certainly no fool, nor even truly a dedicated drunkard - not yet, at least. But he [i]was[/i] a man with secrets he certainly did not wish to share. Jerusha was perceptive enough to know [i]exactly[/i] how delicately and lightly a man could dance with his secrets when he chose. The corner of her lip twitched upward just a touch as she took some steps forward, bending to crouch at the edges of the road, heedless of the street filth that stained the hem of her skirts.

Jerusha whistled, teeth and tongue expelling a sharp, quick trill that perked the ears of the dog instantly to her face. The soft call of her voice whispered across the short distance without words, a mellifluous stream of calm as she held her gloved hand out to the pathetic beast, below the height of its head in tender reassurance that there would be no cruel hand raised against it.

"No, Charles will not be bringing this new friend with us." The vampire smiled as the lame dog approached, its hind leg still held gingerly. She noted the spot of blood on its nose, the mange, the prominent ribs and she frowned - though certainly not at the hapless, unfortunate canine.

"But [i]I[/i] will."

Her back still turned to Nestor as she crouched there, Jerusha let her hands run tenderly over the dog's head, its ears what remained of the short fur on its ruff. This dog had once been beautiful, she knew. A bull dog if she was any judge, the width of its rib cage - covered now with what seemed only the flimsiest veil of flesh - and perhaps even the jowls that hung just a little loose around its wide maw. 

Likely injured in a fight, she could only imagine. Turned out of home and hearth, useless and unwanted by the master it once adored. The vampire watched that thin, near hairless tail wag happily at nothing more than touches that brought no pain. Jerusha rose, turning to look over her shoulder to Nestor, one eyebrow raised questioningly. 

"So shall we, Master Grimsley? You, my companion and [i]my[/i] new canine friend? I imagine we will make quite the spectacle returning to my home, but when have such as us ever stood in good stead with propriety?" she asked with an impish little laugh.