Romancing a Wallflower Page 5
He met her gaze. “I am being truthful. I realize that our first introduction was dreadful. I had hoped for better.” He transferred his reins to one fist, sliding his free hand over her gloved one and squeezed gently. “Do you feel hungry?” Lord Harlow nodded towards the tree-canopied clearing ahead of them, where a small stream rippled in the dappled light. Sunshine filtered through the branches of the trees and illuminated an area of velvet-like grass. Patches of pink and white phlox covered the ground, accentuating the edges of the stream. “That looks like a perfect spot for a picnic. It is not secluded, but the traffic mostly stays on the main carriageway.”
Lord Yarstone’s red phaeton edged up beside them. “Would you care to picnic here?” He spoke loudly across to Lord Harlow and Lilian.
“Lady Lilian and I were discussing that possibility.” Lord Harlow turned and looked at her, his blue eyes sparkling.
Lilian leaned forward to see her sister’s reaction. Lydia was nodding, so she took a steadying breath.
“Yes, my lord. This would be a lovely spot.” I hope I do not regret this. Lord Harlow…John…will have to carry me to the picnic blanket. Her heart raced a little faster at the thought of his hands holding her.
Lydia and Lord Yarstone took a blanket from each vehicle and spread them neatly beside the stream. Lord Harlow handed the reins of his curricle to his tiger and walked around to Lilian. Gently, he lifted her from the curricle. She slipped her arms around his neck. The scent of bergamot and bay leaf teased her senses, and without considering the impropriety, pulled closer. His touch, his very smell, lent her a sense of comfort and safety she had not felt since before the accident. She wanted to rest her head on his shoulder, but with belated modesty, maintained as much distance as she reasonably could. It was good fortune for her that the distance was short, or she might have succumbed.
Lord Harlow—John—tenderly placed her on the blanket next to her sister.
“Thank you…my lord.” Lilian struggled with the notion of calling him by his Christian name, but in front of Lord Yarstone and her sister, she felt particularly awkward. It was too intimate, too soon. This whole adventure felt awkward, now that she thought of it. Her promise to her sister to attend one silly ball had grown into a picnic in Richmond Park with the man who had saved her life, a man whose appearance she had struggled for almost a year to recall. His fragrance had been the only thing she could remember… and now she was here with him. She shook her head.
“This will be fun!” Lydia opened the two baskets and laid out a bottle of wine, a bowl of fruits, and a small platter of cheese and meats before them. Her sister carefully poured glasses of wine, while Lilian took the plates and placed a small portion of the various meats, cheeses and bread on each.
“This is a feast!” Lilian raised her eyes to John’s and took a sip. “This is very pleasant, sir. Thank you for this day.” She looked over at her sister, who was sitting much closer than was proper to Lord Yarstone. That gentleman was reading Lydia a sonnet from her favourite book as they sipped wine and ignored the remainder of the repast.
“Did you hear that?” John asked soon after, setting down his emptied glass.
Lilian stilled, and John stood up, scanning the trees and along the small valley in which they sat.
“I hear something.” She set her wine glass back inside the basket to keep it from spilling and listened. Persistent whimpering and weak barking sounded from behind the cluster of trees, followed by laughter.
“’Ere, I got it on the ’ead!”
“Grab its tail!”
“So? I pulled its whiskers!”
Bragging words and another bark penetrated the thick undergrowth which choked the floor of the copse beyond the trees they sat beneath.
“It sounds like an animal and some children. The animal sounds in distress.”
Before they could discuss it, one boy shot through the trees, his arms holding a paw and hind leg of the poor animal, spinning it about and jeering. The other boys followed, throwing stones at a small apricot-coloured dog.
“Your turn, Ralph.” The boy kicked at a smaller boy. “Do it!”
“I doesn’t want to, George…” the younger boy named Ralph wailed to the larger youth. “Don’t make me.” Both boys wore ragged pants that barely covered their legs. Their shirts and jackets were soiled and tattered. The older boy, George, wore a flat cap, blackened with what appeared to be coal dust.
George shoved the younger boy with his elbow. “Ye missed his head, and ye owe me a penny. Take the stone and ’it ’is head,” demanded the red-headed, pimply-faced youth called George. He seemed unaware he had the full attention of their party. To emphasize his point, he spun the poor animal again, holding two legs in a circle around him. The animal tried to draw its body into a ball but was too weary and merely cried in distress.
An anger such as she had never felt before welled up in Lilian. “Stop. Stop that this minute! Bring the poor animal to me.” She clenched her fists beside her gown, hating that she could not get up and plant the older child a facer.
“What, me dog? What’s ’e to ye?” The red-headed boy turned and at last noticed the party of adults. Dropping the puppy to the ground, still holding a rope to its neck, he folded his arms in front of him. His stance was belligerent, but Lilian noticed he maintained a safe distance from the adults. A third, dark-haired boy pulled up behind his friend, holding a fist-sized stone in his hand that he had obviously planned to pitch at the puppy’s head.
“Release that animal at once!” Fury laced her voice as Lilian fought to control her temper. She detested the mistreatment of animals. She had always mended the wings of birds, taken splinters from paws, fed baby squirrels which found their way from their drey too soon. Her father had allowed her to take care of animals and, in fact, had even encouraged it. Mama, however, was not of the same mind. She did not want animals in her house, but had usually relented in the end, allowing Lilian to nurture the animals back to health.
Harlow rose to his feet and stepped in George’s direction, his face mottled with anger. “I believe the lady asked you to let the animal go.”
Yarstone had stopped reading and he and her sister moved to stand behind Lilian.
“Look, guvnor…this ’ere’s me puppy and oi can do as oi want. ‘Ye no call to tell me what to do.”
Her temper flared beyond limits. Lilian would not remain quiet. She grabbed her reticule and made a great display of dumping the coins in her lap.
“Very well! I will purchase your puppy. How much?” she shouted. It was only a few shillings, a little pin money she kept there against emergency, but she would spend every farthing she had to save the animal.
“Lilian, you surely do not mean to bring that dog home, do you?” Lydia whispered loudly in her sister’s direction.
“I do.” Lilian snapped. She loved her sister, but Lydia did not see the same value in animals that she herself did. That was probably the only subject on which they truly differed. “Mama will no doubt fly up into the boughs, but she will adapt. The poor animal cannot remain with these horrid boys. They will kill it,” still seething, she answered sharply, if quietly.
The red-headed boy jerked the rope hanging from the puppy’s neck and nudged the dog with his dirty boot, evoking a strangled cry from the shaggy apricot-coloured mutt. At least he was no longer swinging him in a circle. The puppy whimpered loudly. Pulling on the rope, George made the animal get up on its legs and dragging it behind him, walked to her blanket. “Stupid dog. C’mere.”
“I have three shillings here. I will give you all of it in exchange for the puppy.” Lilian bit her lip, hoping it would be enough. She had nothing else of value with her. The poor puppy could barely stand. It appeared to be a small poodle and spaniel mix, and its matted apricot-coloured coat and its amber eyes displayed pain and fear. Crusty matter covered the inner edges of those sad eyes.
“Ain’t ne’er seen ’at much money,” muttered the younger boy, Ralph. “You’d pay that �
�fer a dog, missus? You must be full o’ juice. That be a deal of brass,” he declared, thoughtfully scratching his head and looking from the puppy to the money. “’Specially since ’e ain’t…”
“Stubble it, Ralph!” the pimple-faced boy screamed.
“I will add a crown.” Harlow pulled a silver coin from his pocket. “That is a considerable amount of blunt and far more than you and he are worth together. I suggest you take it and thank God for your fortune before I change my mind and have you taken up by the constable.”
Lilian looked up at him appreciatively. He cares for animals, too.
“A fine dog, such as ’e’ should bring more, if oi sell ’im.” The boy smiled slyly with a fixed stare at Harlow, hoping to drive a better bargain.
Harlow took another step forward and spoke low from the back of his throat. “Do not attempt to mistake me for a flat. I could purchase a pedigree gun-dog for less than that price. You are fortunate we are prepared to pay for your mischief. However, I will not stand by while you viciously harm that puppy for entertainment. I will not allow another second of it. Take the money we have offered and leave the animal with us before I send my man for a constable. Consider carefully, for I will tell him you stole the dog from my stables a week ago.”
“That’s a plumper, guvnor,” the boy fumed with one hand in a fist at his side. He looked at Lilian’s outstretched hand and the coin Harlow held in his. “Bah! ’Tis naught but a dirty dog, after all, and ’tis a fine price. ’E’s yers.” George snatched the coins from Harlow and Lilian and shoved the puppy in her direction. The poor animal collapsed on her lap as the boys ran back from whence they came, the slight movement of the bushes the only sign, apart from the shivering mutt, of the entire episode. Lilian hugged the puppy close without a care for his appearance.
Harlow smiled down at her with brief amusement. “I had a fancy for a raspberry ice, but perhaps this makes for a better day.”
“Lilian, he is filthy! Whatever will Mama say?”
“The same thing she said when I found the cat and her litter of kittens. The first word will be, no. Then, she will list three or more reasons it is so.” Lilian smiled, but inside she quaked as she wondered the same. “We can handle Mama, I am sure. I shall call my new puppy Cooper since his hair looks like copper.”
“How can you tell?” Lydia asked, laughing sarcastically. “He looks the colour of mud to me.” Despite her gainsaying, Lydia dropped to her knees and petted Cooper. He whined when they touched his neck, causing both girls to pull away slightly, afraid to hurt him further.
“How do you feel about the name, Cooper?” Lilian directed her question to her new puppy, who lifted his head, still trembling. His eyes were full of fear.
“I realize you are in pain at the moment,” she whispered to the puppy, “but I think you will grow to like the name.” Her voice was loud enough for everyone to hear, but soft enough to continue to calm her new pet. “You have a home now and we will all love you.”
“He looks to be a fairly young puppy and judging from the lack of meat on his bones, half-starved,” Lord Harlow observed quietly. “I have a friend who treats animals. I will ask him to call upon you, Lady Lilian.”
“Thank you. I would be glad of that.” She looked up and briefly squeezed his hand in appreciation. Once again, strange feelings stirred in the pit of her stomach.
Holding Cooper, Lilian lightly touched the puppy’s head and tried to untie the thick hemp rope from his neck.
“I cannot get this…ah…rope free,” she gasped as she struggled.
“Allow me.” Lord Yarstone reached down to the blanket beside him and picked up the paring knife he had used on the fruit. “This should work.” He carefully sawed at the rope until the dirty length of hemp broke.
The rope had rubbed the puppy’s neck raw, leaving it hairless, red and weeping with blood. Lilian took an embroidered handkerchief from her reticule and dabbed it into her wine glass. She comforted Cooper.
“Poor little one, this may sting, but it will help, I promise.” Gently, she wiped some white wine over the area. Cooper stood still and gave her hand a small lick when she had finished.
“This should make him more comfortable, Lady Lilian.” Lord Harlow had stepped to his vehicle and pulled a plaid blanket from the box beneath his seat.
“Thank you, sir.” Lilian accepted the blanket and Lord Harlow squatted down and helped her wrap the blanket around the trembling, overwhelmed animal. Cooper’s nose nuzzled her chest, and he edged himself in as close to a cuddle with Lilian as he could manage.
“I am done for!” Lord Harlow laughed jokingly. “I gave my coin and have created new competition for your attentions.”
“Nonsense,” she answered good-naturedly, then glancing at her sister. “We should return home and introduce Cooper to Mama as soon as possible. You are right, Lydia. She will not be happy.”
“The food is almost gone, but I will bet that the little fellow would love to have some meat, bread and cheese.” Lord Yarstone brought his basket close, holding out a leftover half loaf of bread. Cooper sniffed and strained to reach it.
“Good man, Yarstone. Perhaps we should give him some bread and make sure he fills his belly. I would go easy on the cheeses and meat. The spicier ones could make him sick. I have a bottle of water here.” Lord Harlow offered the water in a small bowl. After swallowing the small loaf almost whole, the puppy thirstily lapped the water.
“He is starving!” Lilian burst out. ”We should get him home immediately. Lydia, I will need your help to get him bathed and his hair trimmed. I think we should do it together. He trusts us,” she added, with great satisfaction.
She hugged Cooper closer to her heart and smiled. This had been a good day, so far. She had done a good deed, not allowing her infirmity to stop her, and she had a new friend. She could not regret that. Now all she needed was good fortune, she thought brightly.
Chapter 6
“A puppy?” Lady Avalon fairly choked on the words but quickly calmed herself. “You went for a drive in the park. Whatever do you mean, you brought back a dog, Lilian?” Her mother punctuated her name slowly. “No, my dear, I am afraid we cannot keep him. You know that there are several reasons why we cannot have a dog.”
This must be the list Lilian had spoken of. Harlow swallowed the urge to laugh; beside him, Lilian sighed.
Lady Avalon held out her fingers one by one, quickly ticking off each reason as she stared at Cooper cowering in Lilian’s arms.
“First of all, Cook has enough to do without having to prepare meals for a puppy. In addition, a puppy needs constant maintenance and care. He will bring those parasites—fleas, I believe they are called—into the house. I cannot tolerate it,” she added for emphasis. “And you know your father will not appreciate another stray animal being brought into the house. The birds and the cats were one thing…a puppy is much more demanding of attention. That is wholly different.”
The door opened and Lord Avalon walked into the room. “Did someone mention me? Chambers told me you girls had returned. I was coming out of my office just now and I noticed a bit of a to-do in the hall. Since you ladies are given to frequenting the parlour, I presumed there might be some interesting goings-on in here…more engaging than working on my accounts, at any rate!” Lilian’s father chuckled as he moved further into the packed room. The parlour already contained his family, one puppy, Lord Yarstone and Harlow himself.
This feels awkward, he thought, but sometimes life can be more humorous than fiction. There had not been a suitable moment to say goodbye. Harlow glanced at Lilian, who was sitting in her chair, holding the animal and giving her mother her full attention, yet at the same time discreetly adjusting the puppy so that her mother could see Cooper’s face. He recognized her simple strategy and admired her guileful approach.
“My dear, I did, but it was in explanation of why we cannot keep this puppy.” Lady Avalon answered calmly, pointing to Cooper. Her tone contrasted sharply with the dia
tribe she had just given. She was clearly nonplussed with the situation.
“Yes…yes, I have just noticed the poor creature.” He turned to Lilian. “I suppose you have given him a name?” he questioned lightly. “You always do.” Lord Avalon raised a bushy black and grey eyebrow and tried to look irritated. He was failing miserably, in Harlow’s opinion. This sympathy with animals was a side to Lilian that he had not expected. It reminded him of his own childhood. He had spent every spare minute with his father’s dogs or their horses, including helping the grooms to tend the injured ones.
“Cooper,” Lilian proffered. She put her pet down and watched the sorry animal walk to her mother’s feet and look up at the woman.
The older man chuckled. “The dog is a sharp one, so he is. How did you come by him, daughter?”
Lilian quickly related Cooper’s sad tale to her father, who walked over and accepted the puppy, dirt and all. Lord Avalon scratched him behind the ear for a moment and then held the puppy up in front of him.
“I can see you are a mighty personable little fellow under all this mud and muck.” He looked at his daughter, who had not taken her eyes from the two of them. “Lilian, we must…” He hesitated a moment, as if searching for the right word. “Cooper needs a bath, a comfortable bed and a good meal,” he finished at last. “You may ask Clara to request some scraps for his dinner from Cook. Allow your mother and I to discuss this and we will speak more on it tonight.” Her father chucked the puppy playfully under his chin and smiled encouragingly in his daughter’s direction before putting the puppy down and supplying a more austere look to the rest in the room. Harlow noticed the change only because he was standing near Lilian and realized Lord Avalon only smiled while his back was to his Countess. The Earl and his wife left the room, ostensibly to discuss the animal, Harlow presumed. Lord Yarstone, the sisters, Cooper and Harlow himself were left in the parlour.
Lydia smiled at her sister and patted Cooper on the head. “I think Father will convince her. I have no notion what magic you possess with Father, Lilian, but he can never deny you anything,” Lydia said candidly, and laughed.