Romancing a Wallflower

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