Romancing a Wallflower

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