Page 37 of A Lyon’s Promise (The Lyon’s Den)

Four months later…

“M rs. Hanson wanted me to tell you dinner will be ready promptly at eight o’clock as requested, your—er…Mrs. King.” At Lucretia’s sigh, Lizzy admitted, “It’s going to take a bit longer for me to become used to calling you Mrs. King.”

“As long as you keep trying, I’m certain it will eventually become second nature to you. Now then, have you finished writing the place cards? Your handwriting is far more legible than mine.”

“Yes, your—Mrs. King. Are you feeling up to entertaining after that last bout of sickness?”

“I feel better than ever and am looking forward to our small gathering. I am so grateful to so many of the people who have worked hard digging up facts and tracking down witnesses. Everything my darling Gavin needed to ensure the court would convict Bancroft, his sons, Cook, and Mrs. Riddleton. What a shock it had been to discover she wasn’t a widow and in reality is Bancroft’s sister, both of whom were found guilty of stealing my inheritance and wrongfully preventing me from marrying until Mr. King rescued me in the Lyon’s Den. ”

“Do not forget the others,” Lizzy reminded her.

“I try not to think of them. While the others were in on the plan, Johnstone was the only one caught trying to kidnap me after tossing me over his shoulder. It will be some time before that matter will go to trial.”

The front door knocker sounded and was quite loud when she was in the sitting room. “That’s Gavin now!”

She shot to her feet, and immediately felt the room grow dim. Lizzy’s scream for help sounded so far away. The last thing Lucretia remembered was Gavin shouting her name.

“She’s coming around, sir,” Lizzy whispered from where she stood behind the yellow-and-white striped settee.

King felt one of the bands constricting his chest release. “How soon will Lieutenant Sampson arrive?”

“Weston sent for him the moment he heard my cry for help,” Lizzy replied. “If he is not already out visiting a patient, he should arrive soon.”

A knock on the door and muted voices carried into the sitting room. “Lizzy, ask Weston to tell whoever it is we are not receiving callers. Mrs. King is ill.”

“What’s wrong with her?” Lady Aurelia swept into the room on the earl’s arm.

“What are you doing home early?” the earl asked. “I thought this was to be a surprise.”

Another knock sounded on the door. “Bloody hell!” King closed his eyes. “Forgive me, your ladyship.”

Lucretia’s eyelashes fluttered against her pale-as-parchment face. “Gavin, what are you doing home? I wasn’t expecting you for another hour.”

“Is this the greeting I can expect from my wife when I have the opportunity to leave Bow Street early?” Voices echoed from the entryway. “Jarvis!”

The footman leaned into the room. “Sir?”

“Tell whoever it is we are not accepting callers. Mrs. King is ill!”

Lucretia frowned up at him. “Jarvis, you’ll do no such thing! We have been organizing this dinner party for too long to let a little lightheadedness stop me from thanking everyone.”

“What are you talking about, and who is everyone ?” King demanded.

“Gavin, do let your wife sit up,” Lady Aurelia urged.

He grumbled, but helped her up. “Do not even think about getting off this settee until Lieutenant Sampson assures me that you haven’t fractured your head.”

His wife tilted her head to one side and slowly smiled. “You’re worried about me.”

“Of course I’m worried about you. I love you.”

“I do so adore when you shout the words at me, dearest.”

King scrubbed a hand over his face, muttering, “Whiskey.”

“You cannot drink before all of the guests arrive to toast your success,” Lucretia warned.

“I am not in the mood for guests overrunning our home, especially given the state of your health.”

Lady Aurelia waved King out of the way and sat beside Lucretia. “Tell me, how long have you been feeling ill upon waking?”

Lucretia frowned, and King wondered why she had not said anything to him. “Lady Aurelia, what prompted you to ask her that?”

She ignored him and waited for Lucretia’s answer.

“It comes and goes, but off and on for a few weeks. Lately have I grown lightheaded after rising too quickly.”

“Hmm… Anything else you noticed?” Aurelia leveled a telling look in King’s direction. “That you can tell me in mixed company.”

“That does it!” King shot to his feet, swept Lucretia into his arms, and barked, “Everyone, leave. My wife is ill. Come back another time.”

Lucretia shocked him when she started laughing, deep belly laughs that had Aurelia and the earl chuckling, and Coventry and his wife smiling when they entered the room, effectively blocking King’s dramatic exit.

“I’m sure you heard, Coventry. Lucretia’s ill. Sampson has been summoned. Please round up everyone and make them leave.”

“Miranda, please ask your husband to stay and have Lizzy and Mrs. Hanson start serving in the dining room as planned,” Lucretia said.

“Did you just countermand my directive?” He could not believe this was the same woman who’d quailed before recalcitrant servants prior to their marriage.

That last thought stuck in his head— prior to their marriage.

“Lucretia…are you suffering from consumption? A weak heart?” For the life of him, he could not get his highly ordered mind to construct a proper sentence, let alone utter it in the face of the dire realization that kept him awake nights.

He could not face life without the woman in his arms. He had done so before marrying her, but now?

King shook his head. He could not countenance it.

A loud knock alerted everyone that someone else had arrived. “That better be Sampson!” King grumbled.

Weston opened the door and the lieutenant took in the tableau in a heartbeat. “Ah, Mrs. King, I take it you forgot my caution not to rise too swiftly on the days you begin your mornings feeling nauseated.”

“It was the excitement of the gathering. We’re so glad you were able to make it, lieutenant,” Lucretia replied. “Everyone else should be arriving momentarily.”

“King, I’m certain your wife would be more comfortable on the settee in the sitting room,” Sampson suggested.

King narrowed his eyes at his longtime friend and physician. “How long have you been treating my wife for a sickness I should have been informed of?”

The lieutenant walked to stand beside him.

Placing a hand on King’s shoulder, he answered, “A few weeks. Lizzy sent word the first time, frantic when you had already left for work and Mrs. King had become quite ill. Mrs. Hanson sent word the second time. Since then I have been in constant contact with your wife, in an advisory capacity, as there is nothing physically wrong with her.”

Sampson locked gazes with Lucretia. “I think it is safe to tell him your news. The critical fourth month has passed.”

“How can you deduce that nothing is physically wrong and in the next breath mention a critical fourth month passing?” King’s temper threatened to erupt. “ Well? ”

“Gavin, you do know that I love you, don’t you?”

He sighed. His darling wife always began conversations he was not keen to hear with those same words. “What is it this time? Have you hired another military veteran to join our growing staff?”

She giggled as he placed her on the settee. He could not stay mad at his wife. She brought sunshine and smiles into his otherwise dark and gloomy world dealing with the dregs of society—and sometimes the highest flyers of Society.

“Mayhap he should sit, don’t you think, captain?”

Coventry snorted, covering his laughter. “Aye. Best have him sit.”

A loud, deep voice interrupted their conversation. “Has the lass told King yet?”

More giggles.

“Best sit beside your wife, King,” Viscount Moreland said. “She has news for you.”

King was almost afraid to hear it. “Why does he know? Furthermore, why do Lady Aurelia and Miranda think they can diagnose what is wrong with you, when I didn’t even know you were feeling poorly?”

Moreland stood by the window opposite the settee, hands clasped behind his back. “By now Lippincott has surmised the same, and has something in common with myself, and Coventry—and, by the grace of God, now you.”

King felt his chest constricting. “Someone best tell me now. If I start shouting, it may upset my wife.”

“They are all married,” Lucretia told him.

King stared at her. “What in the bloody hell does that signify?”

Instead of wincing when he raised his voice, she laughed again. “You are highly intelligent, dearest, and have run more criminals to ground than any other Bow Street Runner. Your powers of deduction are beyond compare, your—”

“Apparently I am in the dark here, Lucretia. Have pity on me, before I have a heart attack from the fear of losing you.”

“Forgive me, Gavin. I know how you like solving puzzles and thought this was commonplace enough that you could reason it out.”

He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips. “Thank you for having faith in me. Now tell me!”

“The others who have guessed are either mothers themselves, or fathers.”

King’s eyes widened. “Fathers?” he rasped.

“Congratulations, King!” Lieutenant Sampson was the first to shake his hand, then Moreland, Coventry, and Lippincott.

King didn’t bat an eye, because he was too busy staring at the becoming blush on Lucretia’s lovely face. Her brown eyes were sparkling, and the golden ring he adored winked at him. “We have been granted a miracle.”

“In my expert opinion, having treated many cases in recent years, a woman should not be the first person suspected as the reason a couple cannot conceive,” Sampson commented. “Oftentimes, the reason lies with the husband.”

The men and women gathered in his sitting room, congratulating him, might think it was simply the fault of Montfort’s not being man enough to father a child.

He knew in his gut that it was because of the way he’d treated Lucretia.

The man was a bloody bastard, and he planned to tell him so at the very next opportunity.

Later that night as King and Lucretia lay tangled in one another’s arms, he asked again, “Are you certain I did not hurt you or our babe?”

“Quite. If you must know, I was blushing furiously, and could not look the lieutenant directly in the eye when I asked it of him. He assured me that it was quite safe and normal for a man and his wife to make love while she is carrying his babe.”

King nudged her chin up to kiss her.

She sighed, rested her head against his chest, and whispered, “Thank you.”

“For?”

“Warning Lieutenant Sampson that, should I ever conceive, he was never to examine me internally without my express permission, and then only under the direst of emergencies.”

“Ah, my darling. You are most welcome. I have prayed for you, you know. If anyone ever needed babes to share her sunshine happiness and joy with, love, it is you.”

“Kiss me, Gavin.”

“My pleasure, love.”