Page 12 of A Lyon’s Promise (The Lyon’s Den)

“You’re going to ruin all of our plans!” Johnstone wailed.

“Don’t you see ?” King’s hackles rose and he decided not to speak, but to let the man spout.

He ignored him, which prompted Johnstone to continue, “We planned it all. Ainsley, Wayne, and I would compete for Lady Montfort’s hand—she’s got a bloody fortune, you know. ”

Snug changed his stance to battle ready with his feet slightly apart and Lucretia tucked firmly behind him. “What else did you plan, you scurvy dog?”

Johnstone surprised King by boasting, “We’re going to use the baron’s hunting lodge near his Sussex estate.”

“We?” Incredulity colored Lucretia’s voice as she stepped around Snug, caught the prisoner off guard, and punched him in the nose. “What do you mean, we ?”

Blood streamed from the man’s face. “You broke my nose!” He lunged for Lucretia, but King grabbed hold of him, yanking him off his feet and throwing him to the floor. “She can’t get away with this! She’ll regret it once the three of us are through with her!”

King had to call on every ounce of his control not to beat the man senseless.

There were too many witnesses. Johnstone was delusional if he thought he or his cohorts would ever lay a hand on Lucretia.

Though King knew the man’s intention was crystal clear, he wanted to hear Johnstone admit what he intended for Lucretia.

His voice deathly quiet, King asked, “Three of you?”

Johnstone still did not realize the peril he was in as he raked his gaze from the top of Lucretia’s head to her feet. “She looks like she could handle more than one of us at a time.”

King roared as he pulled the man to his feet. He didn’t care who watched—he was going to kill Johnstone with his bare hands!

Before he could grab the man by the throat and squeeze the life out of him, Moreland and Coventry had King’s arms pinned to his sides. “I’m going to crush his windpipe!” he vowed, struggling against their hold. “Then I’ll rip his throat out.”

“Aye, and I would not have stopped you, had we been aboard my ship.” Moreland sighed. “Alas, we are not on the high seas, where a ship’s captain is the law. We’re landlubbers and must abide by the laws of the land.”

Coventry’s voice was calmer than Moreland’s when he added, “His Grace would never approve.”

King closed his eyes. Coventry was correct: the duke had one unbending rule for the men in his private guard, that they could not take a life—unless it were a matter of life and death to a member of his family.

King had to rein in his temper. He’d never lost control like this before.

If his superiors on Bow Street got wind of it, they’d sack him, no matter how stellar his reputation.

“Gavin?”

The hesitant sound of Lucretia’s voice had him opening his eyes.

She was standing close enough to embrace, though he dared not do so now.

The flash of fear in her eyes gutted him.

He had ruined his chances to show her his gentler side.

She’d only seen the emotionless, determined side of him, a man fully capable of violence necessary to do his job.

He had a deep well of emotion he rarely showed.

King wanted to shower her with the depth of what he felt… for her .

“Forgive me, your ladyship. Johnstone’s words and the vile deeds planned will not go unpunished. I promise to do everything in my power to quell any rumors that arise from what others may hear or mishear tonight. Your reputation will remain intact.”

To his shock, she lifted to her toes and brushed her lips to his cheek. “Thank you for coming to my rescue, Gavin.”

Viscount Moreland released his hold on King and offered his arm to her. “Allow me to escort you to Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s private room, Lady Montfort, while this matter is settled.”

“Thank you, your lordship.”

“Moreland will do, as sadly no one calls me captain anymore—except my wife, when she’s extremely vexed with me.”

“I find that hard to believe when you have been so kind to me.” She paused and looked over her shoulder.

“Will you be joining Mrs. Dove-Lyon and me, Gavin? I’d like to tell her how you rescued me and what Johnstone…

” She shook her head. “Please, make the time to join us. I know how busy you are and no doubt have been tonight…unmasking what that terrible trio planned—”

This time a tear slid past her guard. When King would have gone to her, Moreland patted her hand on his arm. “Come, a sip or two of rum is what you need.”

As they made to leave, King called out to her, “Lady Montfort?”

She stopped once more. “Yes?”

“I am honored to have been here in time to foil their plans. Please give my best to Mrs. Dove-Lyon.”

Her smile was tremulous, her eyes tear-bright, when she nodded.

Moreland did not turn around when he said, “Don’t leave until you speak with me, King.” The viscount’s mission—which King wholeheartedly agreed with—was to whisk Lucretia far away from her would-be kidnapper.

King watched the pair walk away and wondered if Bessie would be compelled to bar Johnstone and his cohorts from the premises. Would she bar him for fighting? One thought slashed through him—he doubted he would see Lucretia again after tonight.

Coventry placed his hand on King’s shoulder. “I shall see to it Lady Montfort remains until after you speak to Moreland…and Mrs. Dove-Lyon.”

King shook his head and turned to Snug. “Your aid was timely and appreciated.”

“My pleasure, King.”

Titan arrived as Johnstone made another attempt to get to his feet. “Do not move! You and the others will be remanded into the custody of King’s men.”

“What men?” Johnstone demanded. “He’s been here alone all this time—I know, I’ve been watching him.”

“Have you?” King found that interesting.

The depth of the trio’s plans were becoming clearer.

Greenwood, the fourth man who had been involved in the planned abduction of Emily Montrose Garahan, must be involved again—this time with Lucretia.

King had a feeling the man was nearby! He took a step closer to Johnstone and leaned down.

“I wonder,” King said, gauging that now would be the perfect time to unmask the blackguard’s plans.

“Is there one more to your group? One who would not draw suspicion if he were spotted in the crowd. Did you gamble that one of you would be replaced this evening and would not be competing?”

“You touch me,” Johnstone growled, “and I’ll demand that Prinny have you put in irons and tossed in his dungeon!”

King didn’t flinch at the man’s tone, nor the threat. He did, however, nod as two of his men stepped in through the rear entrance. “Ah, Jackson, Thompson. Your timing is spot-on. Johnstone here is about to tell us the name of the fourth man you will be escorting to Bow Street this evening.”

“I refuse—”

“No matter,” King interrupted. “I already know that Greenwood is the fourth man in on your plans to kidnap Lady Montfort.” He did not hide his contempt for the man or his plans when he added, “Whoever won tonight’s set of challenges, had I not been added at the last minute, I doubt marriage was part of your plans.

Fleecing her ladyship of her fortune is the least of what you intended for her.

As you so eloquently put it, Johnstone, then the three of you bloody bastards planned to take turns having your way with her.

” He met Jackson’s neutral expression and Thompson’s glare before turning back to Johnstone.

“You shall pay for those plans as well.”

“But I never said—”

“Aye, you did, you bloody maggot!” Snug yelled. “I cannot believe I spent years in the king’s navy fighting to protect your kind!” He spat on the floor next to Johnstone’s hand. “You deserve castration and nothing less.”

“I could not have said it better meself,” Thompson agreed.

“Thank you for waiting in the wings and arriving at just the right moment, men. Take the prisoners to Bow Street,” King said. “I’ll be there later to interrogate them.”

Alone with Snug, King wondered why he had not gotten wind of what Johnstone, Wayne, and Ainsley planned—and he would not forget Greenwood! “It’s despicable, Snug.”

“Gelding is too good for them,” Snug muttered. “If we were aboard ship, the captain would order them to walk the gauntlet.”

King was well aware of that particular naval punishment, as Coventry had mentioned it more than once.

“Ah, yes, where the sailors form two lines, each with a cat-o’-nine-tails in their hands, ready to strike the sailor who committed the offense.

By the time he’s gone through the line and back—his shirt hanging from his waist—he’ll be torn and bloody in more places than his back. ”

“If infection sets in, no one is permitted to tend to the prisoner,” Snug added.

“A strict lesson, but life aboard ship is often harsher than on land,” King said. “Is it not?”

“That it is. Now then, you’d best hie yourself off to Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s private office. She’ll want to have a word with you before you leave.”

Leave. The word echoed in King’s brain and stabbed him in the heart. It would be best for him to leave. Lucretia deserved a far better man than him.

With a nod to Snug, he turned and retraced his steps…back into the Lyon’s Den.