Page 28 of A Lyon’s Promise (The Lyon’s Den)
L ucretia admired the way her husband-to-be was handling the situation with her staff. She did not enjoy confrontations, but had to admit it had been well past time that one occurred.
How had she let things go so far unchecked?
In her heart she knew it had been insisting on changes that had never happened.
It was exhausting. She had thought her life was changing for the better when Lord Hughes proposed, and his suit had been accepted by Mr. Bancroft.
The question she had now was: why had it been acceptable?
Had there been others she had not been made aware of?
One thing was for certain—Bancroft would not approve of Gavin, given his position of power within the Bow Street Runners.
“Thank you all for answering the summons in a timely manner.”
The depth of Gavin’s voice distracted her as he began to question the footmen.
His words blurred together in her mind as she studied the impressive width of his shoulders.
She could not recall ever feeling as content as she had when Gavin urged her to lean against his broad chest. She had no doubt of his strength, having felt the play of his muscles beneath her cheek.
She sighed as he moved on to question the maids.
The things he had said to her earlier had her insides quivering still.
He had spoken to her of intimacies the likes of which she could not even imagine.
Her first husband had planted his seed in her, then withdrawn, leaving her to feel more like a vessel that had but one use.
Lucretia shoved that thought aside, burying it with the rest of the memories she’d worked hard to forget. Gavin had given her a glimpse into what could only be described as paradise.
Finally, only the scullery maids remained to be questioned.
Her mind drifted again, as she wondered if Gavin was looking forward to initiating her into the pleasures of the marriage bed.
What she had experienced before was not worth remembering.
The desire in Gavin’s stormy-gray eyes had beckoned to her, and she had been consumed with curiosity as he described what awaited them when he made love to her.
Could there truly be pleasure given? Pleasure received? The thought tantalized.
“What say you, Lady Montfort?”
“I beg your pardon, I was woolgathering.” The intensity in Gavin’s eyes as he locked gazes with her had her wondering if he knew exactly where her thoughts had been. She cleared her throat. “Would you kindly repeat the question?”
“Of course.”
His smile held secrets she was anxious to unlock. Her heart began to race and her head felt light. Heavens, she had never felt this way about her first husband, nor poor Randall.
She closed her eyes and abruptly opened them when she felt a strong hand grasp her own.
The callused fingers were now familiar to her, as was Gavin’s concern.
He had shown far more consideration and emotion to her in the last twelve hours than she had experienced in the two years she was wed to Montfort.
“Lucretia, you are beyond exhausted. Let Lizzy assist you to your bedchamber while I finish questioning your staff. I need to know the full extent of Bancroft’s scheme and your housekeeper and cook’s involvement. I’ll be at least another hour getting to the bottom of things.”
“We have yet to use the keys Thompson and Lizzy found,” she reminded him.
He brushed the tip of his finger along the curve of her cheek. “And we shall do that after you have had a few hours of much-needed sleep.”
“I’d much rather have something to eat accompanied by a strong pot of tea…or two.” She noticed the interest in Thompson’s eyes at the mention of food. “I daresay Gavin, Mr. Thompson and Mr. Greeves look as if they could use a meal, too.”
Gavin sighed. “While I’m pleased to see this feistier side of you, I can see now there will be compromises aplenty ahead of us.”
Pleased that she felt able to be herself for the first time in too long to recall, she asked, “More than you can handle?”
His deep chuckle had her insides tingling with newfound awareness. “Never. Who shall we ask to man the kitchen?”
Lucretia smiled at her maid. “Lizzy, would you please ask two or three scullery maids you trust to prepare the meal for Mr. King and his men as well as for the staff?”
“It would be my pleasure.”
“Weston, please assign which footmen will carry the heavy trays into the dining room and be on hand to serve.”
“What do you intend to do with us?” Mrs. Riddleton demanded.
“That has yet to be decided,” Gavin answered. “Though I suppose we could feed you and Cook your last meal.”
Lucretia shivered at what he implied, that they were criminals about to face the gallows, which would not be up to him to decide. “I believe that as their employer, I should have a say in what charges are leveled against them.”
Gavin’s eyes narrowed for a moment, and she sensed he was weighing his words with care. “I would be willing to entertain your suggestions…after we eat.”
Happy with his decision, Lucretia allowed him to pull her to her feet. “Now then, I believe I’ll prepare the first pot of tea while Lizzy directs the preparation of our meal.”
“You, my dear, will rest while I take care of that chore for you.”
“When was the last time you prepared a pot of tea, Gavin?”
“Yesterday morning. My current lodgings have a kitchen and I know how to prepare basic meals and, yes, brew a pot of tea.”
Slipping her arm through Gavin’s, she could not believe her good fortune. “It seems you have hidden talents. Anything else you care to share with me?”
He lowered his head and his voice. “Later, love.”
Lucretia felt her cheeks flush, but was too busy imagining everything this stoic, hardheaded, wonderful man had in store for her. She decided she would absolutely try to sleep after eating. Lucretia had a feeling she would need to rest for later .
King ignored the movement around him as he poured hot water over the tea leaves and set the teapot aside to steep. “Brutally strong, or mild?”
The question must have caught Lucretia off guard, as she furrowed her brow before replying, “Somewhere in the middle.”
He placed the teapot, cups and saucers, cream, and sugar on a tray. “I understand you enjoy your first cup of tea in the library. Shall we?”
“Have you been quizzing Lizzy?”
King smiled. “Of course—how else will I be able to surprise you by knowing bits and pieces of the small, but important, things in your life?” He easily balanced the tray one-handed, offering his other arm to her.
As she slipped her arm through his, a feeling of immense satisfaction welled up inside of him.
This felt right…Lucretia about to share a pot of tea with him before daybreak.
King opened the door to the main part of the house and found Weston waiting for them. Before the butler could offer to escort them, King said, “We’ll be in the library, Weston, should anyone need us.”
“I shall let you know when breakfast is ready.”
King noticed the ready smile his wife-to-be bestowed upon her butler. She genuinely cared for Weston—and Lizzy. That Lucretia treated her servants kindly was a testament to her kind and gentle nature. He would do his damndest to ensure that she was never mistreated again.
“Thank you, Weston.” Her sweet voice had the older retainer’s features relaxing for the first time in hours.
The door to the library had been left open, so King paused to wait for Lucretia to precede him, then entered the room and closed the door.
He set the tray on the small table next to the window seat and held out his hand to her.
“Please, sit—the cushion looks quite comfortable.” When she had, King poured tea, added a bit of cream and sugar, and handed the cup and saucer to her. “I hope it is not too strong.”
Her hands appeared small, even holding the delicate china, though he’d felt the strength in them more than once since meeting her again in the Lyon’s Den. How had it been mere hours ago?
“Thank you for serving me, but I should be the one pouring tea for you.”
“Let me pamper you, Lucretia. I have a feeling that you have had far too little coddling in your life.” Their eyes met, and he noticed the gold ring around her pupils was visible. It added a subtle glow to her brown eyes. “It’s back.”
Lucretia’s hand stilled with her teacup a fraction of an inch from her bottom lip. “What’s back?”
“The golden glow in your eyes.”
She took a sip and sighed. “Lack of sleep has you imagining things. My eyes are brown.”
He set his cup and saucer beside hers on the table. Taking her hand, he rubbed the pad of his thumb across her knuckles. “You have only seen your reflection in the looking glass and probably have not spent as much time studying your face as I have.”
He was attuned to her every reaction to the tone of his voice as he modulated it, his body as he drew her close…and at the moment, the faint tremble of her hand in his. He smiled. “There is a faint ring of gold at the edge of the brown. It seems to come and go as you experience different emotions.”
Brow furrowed, she shook her head. “No one has ever mentioned that to me before. Are you certain?”
He rose from his chair and gently pulled her to her feet and into his embrace. “There are many things I notice about you, Lucretia, aside from your changeable eyes. The gold shows up when you are happy and, dare I hope it, curious with desire.”
Her flush indicated that he was correct.
“I am hoping from this day forward to see that happy glow in your eyes, for it will be my goal in life to keep a smile on your lovely face for all the days that God has left in store for us.”