“Lilian, my dear, Mr. Whitten has arrived.”
Lilian patted her knees. “Cooper, up!” The little dog hopped up onto her lap, and they rolled along into the hall together.
“Perhaps we should go into the parlour. The room is bright, and there is plenty of space. I will have some tea brought.” Without waiting for a reply, her mother left again.
Lilian and Cooper wheeled into the parlour, followed by Mr. Whitten.
“I understand you have named the puppy?” He squatted down and gently patted Cooper’s head, while examining the raw places on his neck. “That is a fine name, Cooper. It fits him.” He paused and looked up. “I also understand he could have been hurt badly had you not intervened on his behalf. What good fortune you have had, little chap,” Mr. Whitten added with a serious look on his face.
Lilian felt a twinge of pride at his words.
Whitten continued his examination, scrutinizing Cooper’s teeth, his paws, his belly and his ears.
“Soft belly. No drainage from his eyes or nose. Very good,” he continued aloud, but almost to himself. Whitten felt along the dog’s spine and checked the area under his tail. “No sign of worms or other parasites.” He pulled out his stethoscope and listened to Cooper’s heart. “Strong. No abnormal sounds.” Whitten then gently rolled Cooper onto his back and looked at his paws.
Amazed, Lilian looked on while her small puppy complied without complaint.
“I was told that he was being swung around by his legs. A disgraceful way to treat an animal, in my opinion. He is fortunate, as I do not feel any tender spots. His joints feel as they should.” Whitten patted Cooper on the head, signalling the end of the examination. “I have a tincture that I will leave for his neck area. Twice a day, take a cloth, wet it in diluted vinegar and gently dab that on the open areas. He may not like it, but it should help the sores to heal.” He pulled a small bottle from his bag and placed it in her hand. “This tincture of myrrh and aloes should help. Sprinkle it lightly and wait a few minutes. This ointment applied fifteen minutes after the tincture should help clear things up. Only apply a thin coat. The cool air will help with healing. In a few days, I think he will be as good as new and his coat will grow back.”
“Thank you, Mr. Whitten. Do you know his age?” Lilian was delighted to get such a good report.
“If I were to hazard a guess, I estimate he is five or six months old. Remarkably, he seems not to have gained worms or any other pestilence. Many puppies succumb to them early. This little puppy is remarkably healthy.” He turned to Cooper. “Take good care of your mistress, Cooper, I believe she will take care of you.” As he spoke, Whitten packed his bag.
Lady Avalon, who had quietly returned to the room while the examination was going on, rose and walked over to Lilian’s chair.
“Mr. Whitten, will you take a cup of tea and some biscuits? A maid is bringing some light refreshments.” At that moment, the maid walked in with the tea tray and placed it on the table near them.
“Thank you, my lady, but I feel I should be on my way. I have a horse I must attend near Smithfield Market.” He bowed politely. “Good day to you.”
“Of course.” Lady Avalon nodded. “Good day. Before you leave, my husband asked that you wait on him in his study. I believe he wishes to thank you personally.”
“I will do that.” He turned to Lilian. “It has been a pleasure to meet you, my lady. Lord Harlow spoke at length about the young woman who took on a small gang of curs to rescue a small puppy,” he said cheerily. “I could see he was greatly impressed.”
“Thank you, sir. You are very kind. I am sure I did no more than many in my place would have done.” Lilian’s face reddened slightly at the compliment and the reminder of John Andrews.
“Of course. All the same, it was a good thing for the animal that you intervened when you did.” Whitten smiled politely, picked up his bag, and left the room.
“Mama, I will send a note to Lord Harlow, thanking him for his kindness.” Without waiting for a reply, Lilian wheeled her chair to the tall secretaire against the wall, opened the desk and extracted paper.
“That would be the proper thing to do,” her mother rejoined in a distracted tone. Lilian glanced over her shoulder at her mother, who was sitting on the couch, holding Cooper. The puppy was giving her licks on the chin.
“Astonishing,” she muttered to herself as she wrote a note to John.
Chapter 8
Harlow wondered if Max was bamboozling him about his getting leg-shackled to Lady Lilian. Once he had picked himself up, apologized for breaking the chair and blotted the drink from his pantaloons with his handkerchief, he walked over to the Betting Book and checked for himself.
“Fustian nonsense!” he declared. Sure enough, someone had written ‘per L.C.P to one M.M.’ He knew other gentlemen with the initials M.B, but none that would have plastered this about Town. The ‘per L.C.P’ threw him. “This has to be some sort oflark. Who would post such as thing?”
“It appears that M.M. put forward the wager. Do you know him?” Max asked, sauntering up to join him. “More to the point, perchance you should inform your old friend about Lady Lilian,” he prodded jokingly. “By Jove! Is that the young lady who was thrown from her horse last year?”
“The same,” growled Harlow. He enjoyed Lady Lilian’s company, and had planned to call on her today, so why did he feel as though his under-carriage had been displayed for all the world? It did not affect just him, either. It called attention to Lady Lilian, a lady who sought privacy. His attention had cast her into public notice. He instantly regretted his initial, selfish reflections on how this affected him. “I need to find this M.M. and have him erase that bet.” It was not something he could do on his own. Once a bet was cast, it stayed unless it was cancelled by the one who had it entered on the pages. At least, he hoped it could be expunged.
“You will catch cold at this, my friend. What do you know? I go out of Town for a few days, and when I come back, what do I find? You, all but caught in parson’s mousetrap! Is this decision not something you consider worthy of sharing with your friends?” Max asked nonchalantly, examining his cuticles.
“I will not have the lady’s name bandied about in public, Max!” Harlow hissed. He glanced about to make sure they could not be overheard and lowered his voice. “She is Lord Avalon’s daughter, if you must have it, and no, I am not about to be engaged.”
“Do you like her?” Max persisted, a smile teasing the corners of his lips.
