Romancing a Wallflower Page 6

  “We each have our strengths, dear sister. Mama can refuse you naught, as well. That is why we have always complemented each other,” Lilian added quietly.

  “I think you are right. We cannot expect this always to be the case, but it would seem the fates do lean in that direction. Father supports my sister’s mischief and Mama finds less fault with mine,” Lydia added, gurgling with laughter. Lilian smiled too, yet it seemed somewhat forced.

  “It is time I took my leave,” Harlow remarked quietly.

  “Thank you for a most pleasant excursion, sir.” Lilian looked up at him. She was once again holding Cooper.

  ”Then I shall bid you farewell.” Harlow lifted Lilian’s gloved hand and gave it a light kiss. “I enjoyed the outing, Lady Lilian, and look forward to the next. If you will give me leave, I should very much like to call on you again.”

  “I should be pleased to welcome you, Lord Harlow. Thank you for your many kindnesses,” Lilian responded, a red blush creeping up her face as she tucked her new dog closer with her other arm.

  He patted Cooper. “Be a good boy, now, sir. I will dispatch a good friend of mine, a Mr. Whitten, to help with your injuries,” he added.

  “Thank you, John,” Lilian mouthed quietly.

  “I am afraid I must also take my leave, Lady Lydia,” Lord Yarstone added. He kissed Lydia’s outstretched hand and gave a quick bow. “I too look forward to seeing you again.”

  “I reciprocate your sentiments, sir,” Lady Lydia responded, her face glowing with evident contentment.

  Chambers waited at the front door, holding their hats and gloves. Harlow and Lord Yarstone accepted their items and walked down the steps together.

  “That was awkward,” Harlow uttered when the door closed behind them. “I did not get the feeling Chambers disliked us, earlier. However, of a certainty, I detected a certain level of displeasure in his actions just now.”

  “I believe he dislikes the puppy,” Yarstone offered, chuckling. “But I think the dog will stay. Odd, is it not, that he would display such an aversion though?”

  “I believe you could be right, my friend. Did you collect how Lady Avalon’s argument turned to dust the minute Lord Avalon came into the room?” He was certain Lord Avalon would accept the puppy. “I will bet that the puppy is being bathed as we speak.”

  “I never bet against a certainty,” Yarstone added, laughing. “There seemed to be some urgency, at least on Lady Avalon’s part.”

  Chuckling amicably, both men turned to their carriages.

  “I cannot imagine the last time the little critter had more than a rain shower. It will want for naught, now. Lady Lilian will dote on him,” reflected Harlow.

  “Wait.” Lord Yarstone came up from behind him. “I need to say something.”

  Yarstone touched him on the shoulder as Harlow was about to mount into his curricle.

  “I apologize, Harlow, for my unforgivable jealousy earlier today.”

  Harlow bit back a smile. “Give it no further thought, my friend. I understood. Lady Lydia is a beautiful lady. It is obvious you are making a claim for her. I think she may feel the same way,” he added. “For myself, I prefer…”

  “Lady Lilian,” Yarstone supplied, smiling.

  “Yes. I like her, but I need to give serious thought to anything further. I do not know if I am ready for marriage as much as my mother would like me to be.” He winced, thinking about his mother. She would undoubtedly hear of his courtship of Lady Lilian and have expectations and questions—lots of questions.

  “May I offer a word of advice, Harlow?”

  “Yes, I suppose I could accept that. It does not mean I will agree.” His lips twitched.

  “I had a similar situation with my family. My own mother was making me uncomfortable by parading eligible misses under my nose and insisting I squire her to parties, where she paraded me to all her bosom-bows. It came to the point where I could not bear to go home, so I decided to broach the subject. I had naught to lose.” Yarstone paused a moment. “I spoke with Mother and explained how her faradiddles and tricks and stratagems, however well-meant, made me feel. I told her I had no desire to let the title leave the family but would make my own decisions at my own pace.”

  “And how did that go with your mother?” Harlow was very interested. He all but avoided his mother because of her machinations. Perhaps a straightforward approach would be for the best. It made sense. As Yarstone said, what have I to lose?

  “She apologized and said she would try. That is all I can ask of her, in truth.” Yarstone reached his hand out to Harlow, who shook it.

  “Thank you, Yarstone. I have not thought to be clear with Mother. Perhaps it is time.” It would also give me time to reflect, he added, finishing his thought.

  “One more thing, Harlow.” Yarstone looked serious.

  “Yes?”

  “I noticed a woman watching us in the park today, from a distance. I made no comment on it to Lady Lydia, and as far as I am aware, she took no note of the occurrence.”

  “You did? Where? Did you recognize this woman?” Harlow’s breath caught in his throat, hoping he had not twice put the lady he considered so beautiful in danger.

  “I believe it was the widow, Lady Poinz. I noticed her at the ball the other night, dressed in red satin. Somewhat hard to miss, that one.” He smiled wryly.

  “Yes. Lady Catherine Poinz is hard to ignore.” Extremely so, he thought. Perhaps that bears more discussion.

  “She was walking with a gentleman I did not recognize. I could not see him clearly; the large plumes on her hat hid his face,” Yarstone stated. “They were walking along the path beside a stream. I was behind you and noticed her staring in your direction, looking anything but appreciative in her demeaner, if you get my meaning. They stopped and watched when you turned off the pathway to the small picnic site. I suppose I have become somewhat protective of the DeLacey ladies,” he admitted slowly.

  “I did not notice Lady Poinz today, and I thank you for this information. She is an old acquaintance. I met with her briefly at the party.” He laughed it off, hoping to convince Yarstone of his sincerity. “I am afraid the lady makes more of our acquaintance than I ever have. Perhaps it startled her to see me in the park.” This was becoming difficult. He would speak with Catherine as soon as he could and try to determine why she was staring at him in such a fashion. “Yarstone…”

  “I should have no objections should we be on first name terms,” Yarstone put in, “if that is acceptable to you. I am thinking we are like to meet a good deal in the future.” He stretched out his hand. “Richard.” As an afterthought, he added, “I trust you do not plan to toy with Lady Lilian’s affections…?”

  Harlow cut him off. “I assure you, I do not intend to do that. I understand your concerns and I assure you there is naught between the widow Poinz and myself. Nevertheless, I thank you for this information, Richard.” He took the Viscount’s hand. “Most of my friends call me Harlow and that suits my inclinations.” Harlow bent his head in quick acknowledgement before they separated. He handed the reins to his tiger and sat back for the drive to his club. He needed to think.

  His tiger pulled the horses to a stop in front of White’s. “Pick me up in two hours, Simmons.”

  “Yes, my lord.” The tiger touched his hat. “I’ll be ’ere.”

  “Get yourself something to eat while you are about it, Simmons,” he said, placing a crown in his driver’s hand.

  “Thank ye, m’lord.” The driver gave a cheerful grin and tucked the coin in his pocket.

  “One more thing.” Harlow looked up at the driver. “Did you see a…I hesitate to call her a lady…a rather striking woman in the park when we turned off the main pathway earlier?

  “Hard t’miss ’er, m’lord. She ’ad on a yeller and black striped dress and black plumes to the moon.” The wiry little man cackled. “Ay, Mr. Moore and the lady was walking near the brook when we turned.”

  “Mr. Moore? The man who owns the
Golden Goose Public House?” This piece of news intrigued Harlow.

  “’Oi believe so, m’lord. I knows nuthin ’bout his own’ns, but it were him right enough,” Simmons responded with certainty.

  How curious. Harlow was not sure if he had said this out loud or not.

  “Thank you, Simmons.”

  Harlow handed over his hat and gloves upon entering White’s and inquired after his friend. Max sat exactly where the major-domo had told him he would be, tucked into a heavy, red leather chair by the fireplace, sipping an amber-coloured liquor, which Harlow surmised to be his favourite brandy. He was seated at a heavy table with matching chairs in a circle.

  He took the seat next to Max, appreciating the low-burning embers. They took the chill from the room but did not overheat it. Harlow accepted a glass of his favourite whisky and leaned back, his mood reflective. He favoured this chair, mostly because of the room it gave him to stretch his legs and rest. If he leaned back just enough, it could touch a wall behind him and he could stretch out his legs a little more. Doing so, he soon relaxed. His legs instantly felt better.

  “How are Meg and baby Nathan doing?” he queried. “I am surprised you would come to Town and leave them, so soon after Nathan’s birth.”.

  “They are both doing splendidly. Shep stands guard over the baby. It took a week to become accustomed to seeing him extend that protective nature of his to the baby. Nathan is almost the same size as he is.” Max laughed. “But he is very loyal. I take a distant third place behind the two of them. Before Nathan was born, I had to chase my socks around. Now, I am barely noticed.”

  “Your mother must have been delighted,” Harlow said, a wry smile lifting the corner of his mouth. “Please do not encourage her to contact my mother. Mother has been at her old tricks again, scouring the debutantes for the lady she deems to be the one for me. It has become so bad, I shall be forced to speak with her about it.”

  “You do that, my friend. Let me know your secret if it works—or I will send the notice of your sad demise to the papers.” A sardonic smile flickered on Max’s lips as he sipped his drink.

  “Highly amusing, Max. Although you are right. It will not be easy.” Harlow considered his friend’s words. “Max,” he said in a low voice after a pause, “We have a few matters to discuss.”

  “I agree,” Max said, avidly. “Have you seen the latest bet in the book?” He lightly hit the palm of his hand on the table to emphasize his enthusiasm.

  The betting book at White’s contained some of the latest gossip, with outrageous bets making up some on-dits even more noteworthy. Harlow never wished to be one of those designated unfortunates who had their names penned beside a bet.

  He leaned further into his chair, allowing a smile to crease his face. This had to be one of Max’s jokes. He would not take the bait.

  “Well, now. I am all ears. What does it say?”

  “One hundred pounds on you becoming a tenant for life with one Lady Lilian DeLacey.”

  All of a sudden, the chair Harlow had been leaning back in crashed to the floor.

  Chapter 7

  A day later

  “Come on, Cooper. Wake up, little fellow.” Lilian reached into the large straw basket that Clara had made into a bed and lifted the drowsy puppy, cradling him in her arms. Father had told her he planned to ask a man Lord Harlow had recommended to check Cooper’s health before he had access to the whole house. Mama had relented when she and Father had discussed the dog. Lilian suspected her father had taken a liking to the little fellow.

  A knock on the door sounded, and Mama popped her head inside the room. “Lilian, I asked the housekeeper to clean out the linen closet. She has found two blankets which have not been used in some time. I thought you might find them useful for Cooper.” Her mother did not wait for an invitation to hold the puppy and held out her hands.

  “Oh, what a sweet little rascal,” Lady Avalon said, tickling his belly lightly with her fingernails.

  Who was this woman pretending to be her mother? “Mama, you are sure you do not mind Cooper being here, are you not?” Over the years, her mother had relented to Lilian’s various acquisitions. Not once, however, had she come to play with the pet in question. She had always maintained a reserved distance from the offending animal or bird. This, Lilian mused, was quite extraordinary. She fought the impulse to ring for Clara, to send for the doctor, and instead relished the pure joy her mother was displaying with the newest family member. Cooper lay in a relaxed pose, allowing her to scratch his belly—obviously enjoying himself, too.

  Unexpectedly, Mama whipped her hand into her pocket and withdrew a small blue ball, to which she had tied a string of yarn. Cooper’s eyes lit up at the sight of it, and he immediately wriggled to be set down.

  Lilian watched in utter surprise as her mother repeatedly threw the ball and pulled it back, teasing Cooper into chasing it. The little dog became thrilled and immediately threw himself into the activity, forgetting the ailments they had been nursing only a day before.

  “Fetch it, Cooper!” Her mother threw the ball and pulled it back, provoking Cooper to bite and paw at the ball, determined to claim it. Lilian laughed with full-throated glee when he almost caught it, an image which hearkened back to childhood, teasing her memory.

  “Mama, have you ever had a dog of your own?” Lilian asked, not sure where the question came from. In fact, she had not even thought about the question before asking. It just popped out of her mouth.

  Her mother put the ball away and scooped up the shaggy apricot-coloured puppy, kissed his nose and turned to her daughter.

  “Mama, what is wrong?” Lilian grew concerned. Her mother’s eyes filled with tears. “I once had a dog of my own. Her name was Rascal. You were very small.”

  “I remember!” That was the memory which had fought for a footing in her mind.

  “She was a small, terrier-type breed; white with brown spots on her, and we had had her for several years. You may not remember her, but Rascal loved to follow you around as you toddled. Lydia, I recall, was not as enamoured of the dog, but you loved touching her and would coo her name. Rascal was protective of you both.” Her mother dabbed at the corners of her eyes.

  “Your father and I left for London for a week. When we returned, the servants had lost Rascal. No one had sent word to us, or we surely would have returned sooner. Everyone in the household searched, afraid they would lose their jobs because they knew how much I loved her.”

  She drew a deep breath and paused for a moment. “We finally found her, but when we got to Rascal, she was barely alive. The poor thing had become locked in the basement of the chapel. It seemed she had fallen in through a broken window and nearly starved.” Her mother sat up and dabbed her eyes again. “I have not spoken to anyone, save your father, about Rascal until just this moment. I thought the pain would never stop and the guilt at not being there felt insurmountable.” Lady Avalon placed her hand over her pocket and hugged it closer to her. “Rascal was a birthday present from my papa,” she whispered. “He gave her to me at my own coming out. To lose her felt as though I had lost a part of myself.”

  “I am so sorry, Mama. I did not understand. I might have behaved differently had I known.”

  “Nonsense! Your father made me come to terms with this, and I want to apologize for my prejudice on the subject. I hope you can forgive me.” She leaned down and kissed Cooper on the top of his head. “I love the name, dearest.” Putting Cooper down on the bed between them, she hugged Lilian. “You challenge me in so many ways. I want so much for both you and Lydia, yet it is no more than every mother wants for her daughters.” Her mother once more wiped her eyes, and a small smile shaped her lips, although it was accompanied by a deep intake of breath. “Lord Harlow has sent word that he has asked a friend of his, a Mr. Mark Whitten, to come and examine Cooper for you. According to your father, he should arrive sometime today.”

  Lilian did not quite know what to say. She was both shocked and delighted by
this new side to her mother. Cooper, it seemed, was also quite taken with Mama.

  Affording full credit to Lord Harlow, Mama explained that since the puppy was not having any problems beyond near-starvation and rope burns, Mr. Whitten felt he could time his visit when he came to Town to attend the Veterinary College.

  “It seems he is a young farrier,” Mama explained, “and has ambitions of becoming a horse doctor. He lives in the county of Essex, where he assists the farmers with all their stock, dogs included.”

  Timing was a funny thing, Lilian thought to herself, reflecting on the timing of their discovery of Cooper before more damage had been done. Father had asked her how much she had paid for the dog. She had told him truthfully; to her surprise, his demeanour had not changed. He had merely commented that the boys would most likely have better use for the money than the poor, starving puppy. Her father never showed his temper, but that was his way. He understood her. In contrast, she never felt she knew Mama, although this new facet of her personality made her very happy. Perhaps having a puppy was something they could all enjoy.

  The bed shifted as Mama stood up, absently brushing wrinkles free from her skirt.

  “Before I leave, I have something to give you.” She fished into her pocket and withdrew a small, braided collar of red leather. “This was Rascal’s. I would like it very much if you would let Cooper wear it.” A small silver tag hung from a metal loop near the buckle, inscribed with the words, Cooper. Much loved. “Father secured the inscription for me. It has room to expand as he grows, as long as it is not too much.” She added, pointing out a small amount of extra leather beyond the buckle.

  It was Lilian’s turn to wipe away her tears. “Thank you, Mama. That is the sweetest gift you have ever given to me. I will treasure it always, and I think Cooper will be proud to wear it. I should probably attach it to his basket until his neck heals.” She leaned over and secured the collar to Cooper’s basket and then lovingly smoothed his head.