Page 18 of Don’t Wake a Sleeping Lyon (The Lyon’s Den Connected)

A s the first light filtered through the window and the chilly morning enveloped her, Ada awakened next to Alfred. Birds chirped in the distance, but her heart and mind were drawn to the gorgeous man sleeping peacefully beside her. She’d never shared a pillow before, much less a bed. The night had been filled with wondrous sensations, feelings she didn’t know existed, and physical experiences she longed to experience again.

Satiated—but only for now—she couldn’t shake the feeling that Alfred was the key to her happiness. Her discoveries of the night had brought her more insight into her own desires than she’d ever thought possible. She wanted to marry for love and to be free. Like a butterfly that hatched from its chrysalis, it was no longer enough to chew on a leaf. She needed colorful blossoms in her life and the sweetness of real satisfaction. Enough of the subservient Ada grooming Charlotte’s whims. Time to take back her life.

Alfred nestled into the ticklish spot under Ada’s ear so that she tensed. She always awakened with a chill, but he was warm. Would it be possible that he’d warm her every morning, or was she setting herself up for disappointment?

“I ripped your gown,” Alfred said in a sleepy voice, wrapping his arms around her. “I should buy you a new one.”

“You don’t need to; I can mend it.”

Ada had already thought about how she’d patch up the tears and wondered if she could get away with wearing a mended gown at The Lyon’s Den. Except returning there no longer felt like the solution to her financial problems. The promise of escape into a world of gambling vanished.

This night—no, Alfred—had changed her perspective. She wanted to test her luck in real life. Love and freedom were worth fighting for more than any sum of money.

“Let’s go out. I’m hungry,” Alfred mumbled into the small of her neck with a boyish innocence that reminded her of Dylan. Did all men wake up hungry? Dylan was always the first at the servant’s breakfast and content with meager porridge and hot water as long as he could eat his fill.

“I can make you something. Do you like omelets?”

“We don’t have any pans. Nor eggs.”

“You never cook?”

“We didn’t furnish the kitchen. It’s cheaper, faster, and easier to buy meals and bring them home.”

“You know, that might change when you have a wife. I mean…” She felt flush and tasted the words. She wasn’t telling him he should marry her, especially not when he’d made an agreement with Aunt Bessie so she could find him a wife. But just the thought of him with another woman made hurt flow through her, squeezing her heart and freezing the air in her lungs.

He raised his head and looked at her. It wasn’t her place to be jealous, but the emotion overcame her nonetheless. She was ready to spend a lifetime learning more about this man. Could that ever be possible?

An hour later, Alfred took Ada’s hand and reached for the door to a beautifully decorated store on Oxford Street. She read the gilded signs:

Debenlope, Freeworth there was no point in going inside. Ada shook her head and asked him, “How can you possibly afford this? I thought you had to marry to get money for your practice?”

“Yes, that is true. It’s because I have a problem.”

“A financial problem, I know.”

“An attitude problem. That’s what my brother calls it. I cannot request money for my services.”

“You mean, you don’t charge your patients?” Ada couldn’t believe it.

Medical services were expensive. How could a doctor not charge?

“I don’t like to ask parents for their money.” Alfred stuck a finger under his collar and tugged. “When I help children, I prefer to see them walk away happily. If I stopped their parents, what would I say? Fifty shillings for bandaging your son’s hand?”

“You mean little Max’s mother didn’t pay you?”

“Of course, not. Where would she pay me? That’s why I need an office, so people can come back to me in the future.”

“What about the supplies at the apothecary?”

“He’ll add them to my tab.”

“Alfred,” Ada said sternly, “you need to bill for your services.”

He rubbed his eyes. “That doesn’t feel very medical in spirit. It would be different if I had an office, a bookkeeper—someone to file my charts and send invoices out in the mail.”

“You don’t charge, so you don’t have money for the office you want. And you need the office to be comfortable charging?” Ada shook her head. “It makes no sense.”

“That’s what my brother says.”

“He’s right. Let’s go.” Ada turned to leave. “Don’t spend money on my behalf.”

“I don’t need money to shop here.” Alfred pulled her back. “Mr. Debenlope’s baby was born with a dislocated hip. I helped her heal. She’s two now and even walks! He said I could come any time and spend at will.”

Ada eyed him incredulously.

He flashed her that seductive smile. “So, I do get paid. In theory. Come on! Let’s do it!”

She let him escort her into the store. Ada gawked at the opulent fabrics hanging from the high ceilings. Glass tables lined the sides of the large room, where shopkeepers and customers busily discussed patterns and colors. She followed Alfred up two sets of wooden stairs with elegantly carved balusters. A large cone-shaped chandelier hung from the center of the hall and the staircase spiraled upward promising patrons the way to a better self ahead.

Ada had seen Charlotte commit material gluttony in shops like this countless times, purchasing frivolous objects, hoping that they would somehow transform her nasty personality and wash away its stench with perfume. But did these things hold no power to change Charlotte’s nasty core, they merely masked her flaws. It was like causing a distraction in a card game. Ada couldn’t help but find the frills and ribbons Charlotte brought home every day a little bit comical. They were merely props in her theatrics involved in trying to create an aura of unearned innocence. And now she was in the same store, surrounded by marvelously colorful silks, risking the pretty ribbons to tighten the noose that Aunt Bessie and Charlotte were putting on her neck. Each came from a different direction but both would fell her like a tree. Rather than dress in finery she didn’t feel she deserved, Ada wanted to grab Alfred by the arm and run away with him in tow. The farther, the better.

“Dr. Stein, what a pleasant surprise!” A man in black evening wear with a stiff cravat called out as they stepped into a carpeted room that resembled a boudoir more than a shop. “I’m so happy to see you are finally taking me up on my offer.” The man bowed. “This time, it is my privilege to be at your service.”

Alfred seemed uncomfortable with the attention. “How is she, Mr. Debenlope?”

“Full of mischief.” He smiled as only a proud father besotted with his daughter could. Exactly as Ada’s father used to smile with pride at her. Suddenly, Ada’s gloom lifted at the paternal love in Mr. Debenlope’s eyes.

“May I introduce you to Ada…”

Alfred looked at her, his cheeks heating when he realized he didn’t know her surname.

“Saltzman,” she said with a curtsy. “Ada Saltzman.”

“Miss Saltzman had a mishap with her gown and finds herself in need of a new one.”

Alfred’s words were innocent, but his eyes trailed along her body with the wicked knowledge of what lay beneath the shawl that covered her torn garment.

“But, of course,” Mr. Debenlope said, obviously trying to figure out their relationship.

Alfred took Ada’s hand. “I’d be most obliged if she could choose.”

“Anything she wants, Dr. Stein. Anything at all. A pelisse, a shawl, and all the accessories.” He signaled to a lady from the corner of the room. “A full set of day and night wear for Miss Saltzman, please.”

Moments later in a private seating area on the third floor, Alfred sat cross-legged on an upholstered settee polishing off a plate of triangular sandwiches and drinking tea.

A woman with her hair pulled into a bun and spectacles perched on her nose spoke to Ada while two younger women carried garments in and out. “A pale yellow Spencer jacket would suit your coloring well, with an ochre dress and white accent bows. Or do you prefer darker hues? Crimson maybe? Or emerald green?”

One by one, Ada tried on the dresses. Though measured for alterations, the pieces fit well. She emerged from the drawing room in an empire gown with a tight belt. The square neckline had a deep decolletage and a narrow-backed bodice attached to a separate skirt that was two shades darker blue.

“Do you like it?” She asked Alfred when he rose, brushed crumbs off his coat, and tugged at his cravat.

“Ada!” He gasped at first but then the boyish smirk returned.

“I can change into the purple one if you prefer.”

He closed the distance between them and held out his hand. The modiste smiled over her spectacles when Ada’s face heated.

“The neckline is quite low,” Ada said still unsure whether the dress had a purely beneficial effect on Alfred.

“Oh, I can bring you a chemisette, my dear,” the woman said. “You can cover it.”

“Don’t cover it when we are alone,” Alfred whispered, with that playful twinkle in his eyes. “You are absolutely beautiful.”

Ada sighed in relief. Somehow, she longed for his compliment.

The modiste shuffled away with her assistants, promising to fetch the other pieces.”

Ada turned an even darker shade of red. Alfred put his finger under her chin and lifted her gaze just as he’d done at their picnic the day before. Only one day, but it felt like a lifetime for Ada. And she had to make the most of it.

Alfred glanced over his shoulder. They were alone. He leaned in to kiss her.

“You took my breath away—and my heart—when you came out in this dress.”

When he wrapped his muscular arms around her, Ada knew she’d never get enough of his embrace. When she kissed Alfred, she felt heated and liquid. Already she could recognize the feeling lower in her body that meant she wanted him—all of him. She’d never tire of his touch. His body. His sultry lovemaking. If only this could last forever.