and gathered him up, laughing at he hugged him. George was well on his way to
licking his face off, and John was still laughing. He was trying in vain to duck
away from George’s wildly licking tongue.
Lawrence said slowly, “What is this, John? You know this dog?”
John was laughing one moment, but at the sound of his uncle’s voice, he stopped.
He tucked George under his left arm, but didn’t stop pulling on his ears and
stroking his fingers through his soft topknot.
“Yes,” he said slowly, not moving an inch, “I know this dog. His name is George.
I met him a while back in Hyde Park. His owner was with him. However, I never
met her.”
Lawrence turned to look at me. “I don’t suppose this is the John you spoke of?”
I was surprised he remembered. I still didn’t want to believe this was possible,
even with the proof right in front of me, holding and petting my extremely happy
dog. “Yes, that’s the John. If you remember I also told you he was magic with
animals, at least that is what he claimed. He certainly stole George’s
affections.”
“Well, then,” Lawrence said, “this makes things a bit easier. Major John
Lyndhurst is my nephew and heir. John, this is Andrea Jameson Lyndhurst, my wife,
the Countess of Devbridge. She mentioned meeting you, but all she knew was your
first name.”
John continued to stroke George’s head. My terrier’s eyes fluttered in ecstasy.
He pushed his head against John’s fingers. “Yes, I know who she is, Uncle. She
is Peter Wilton’s cousin. I am, however, surprised that she even remembered me,
much less mentioned me to you.”
I couldn’t believe I’d done it, either. He was still too big, even at a distance
of twenty feet. “I believe I mentioned you because your uncle spoke of you as
being his nephew and heir. You had the same name. It was a coincidence, that’s
all.”
I could tell nothing at all from his expression. He said finally, his fingers
now lightly rubbing George’s left ear, “Was Peter at your wedding? Is he well?”
“Yes, he is quite well. He stayed in London only briefly, then he had to return
to Paris.” It was none of his business that Peter hadn’t come to our wedding. I
realized that I couldn’t put it off any longer. I had to face it and accept it
and deal with it. I pinned a dazzling smile on my mouth. “It is certainly a
pleasure to meet you, John. I suppose it is a relief that we are now related,
since you have quite captivated my dog. George, do have some dignity. Stop
licking his fingers.”
John laughed, which was a relief, and set George down on the floor?only George
didn’t move. He just sat there at John’s feet, his tail wagging, his tongue out.
He waved his paw at John.
“George,” I called out. “That is quite enough. You will come here to me, where
you belong. I am your mistress, the only one in the world you can really count
on for your next meal.”
George whined, then, after about ten indecisive seconds, came trotting back to
me. At the very least, George had broken the stiff-necked scene we had walked in
on. Lawrence said as I scooped George up in my arms, “Now, my dear, this is
Thomas and his wife, Amelia.”
I walked to them and stuck out my free hand. “How do you do. Your uncle has told
me all about you. I am very pleased to meet you both.”
Thomas kissed my hand, and Amelia lightly touched her fingertips to mine.
“This is quite a surprise for us, madam,” Amelia said, a beautifully arched
black eyebrow hiked up at least one incredulous inch.
Madam? I beamed all my good will up at her. She was a good six inches taller
than I was and very effectively looked down her nose at me. I said in a voice so
oozing with affability that it would make even a vicar suspicious, “Do call me
Andy. Even Lawrence does now. It is ever so much more friendly, don’t you agree?”