Page 112 of Eight Hunting Lyons (The Lyon’s Den Connected World)

T he carriage pulled to a halt outside the distinctive blue building on Cleveland Row, and Thomas hastily climbed down, eager to discharge this final duty. Possibly the last place he’d expected to be on a beautiful day in late July was outside the Lyons’s Den, about to meet with Mrs. Dove-Lyons once more. Not that the lady knew of his coming. This was a surprise visit.

“Wait here, Crupps. I’m certain I won’t be long.”

“Very good, my lord.”

Thomas turned to go into the loathsome establishment when a clatter of heels on the sidewalk to the side of the building caught his attention. Moments later, a young woman with bright red hair flying about her head, her face streaked with tears ran past him, jumped into a waiting hack, and drove away at a fast clip.

Well, the Lyon’s Den seemed not to have changed at all. Some drama always brewing here.

Thomas shook off the image of the young lady’s miserable face, and proceeded into the gambling den, greeting the two guards as he entered the building. He quickly located Demetrius and made his request to speak with Mrs. Dove-Lyon. The escort snagged a passing footman, spoke briefly to him, and the man hurried off. After a short wait, the footman returned, nodded, and Demetrius showed Thomas upstairs to the woman’s private office.

“Mrs. D, Lord Braeton to see you.” The huge man opened the door for Thomas, then swung it closed, leaving him alone with the figure shrouded in black, standing behind the desk Thomas remembered well.

“I am pleased to see you once more, Lord Braeton. From the on-dits flying about Town, I understand your marriage has turned into quite a love match.” The black veil obscured Thomas’s view of the woman’s face, but there was certainly a smile present in her words. And pride.

“You have heard correctly, Mrs. Dove-Lyon. I suppose I have several people to thank for it. Not least among them you.” That should stoke the woman’s vanity to no end.

“If I say so myself, I do have a knack at matchmaking, my lord. Will you have a seat?” She dropped down into her office chair and indicated the plush leather chair sitting before it.

“No, thank you. I will not trespass upon your time more than to give you this.” Thomas pulled out the heavy leather bag of gold coins, the same amount he’d sent Mrs. Dove-Lyon back in June for her finder’s fee for Honoria, and dropped it on the desk. The mass of coins made a heavy, clinking sound.

Mrs. Dove-Lyon sat completely still, her head slowly cocking first to one side, then the other. “But you have already discharged your debt to me, Lord Braeton. And I doubt very much you come seeking an additional wife.”

“But that is exactly what I intend to do, ma’am.” Thomas wished with all his might he could see the woman’s puzzled face. “Although not a wife for me.”

“Then a wife for whom?” The utter confusion in her voice almost made him chuckle.

“For whomever the woman chooses.”

Rising from the chair, Mrs. Dove-Lyon shook her head. “You are not making sense, my lord.”

“As I said before, I feel I owe you a debt for helping me find the very best wife a man could have. A debt other than the fee I paid for Lady Braeton.” In the scheme of things, the price had been paltry considering what he had gained in return. “It occurred to me that other young women may come here, unable to raise that sum of money, yet in as dire straits as my wife was to find a husband.” He nodded to the bag of coins. “That is the fee for the next one who has great need but no means to pay.”

A short, stunned silence, then Mrs. Dove-Lyon grasped the leather bag and whisked it into a drawer in the desk. “That is an extremely generous offer, my lord. I will see that a young lady who deserves the opportunity to find a husband has the means to take it.”

“Such as the young woman I just saw running from your establishment?” Thomas couldn’t get the image of her tear-stained face out of his mind. “Was she in need and turned away just now?”

“I cannot divulge information about my clients, my lord. That would be bad for business.”

“But apparently she wasn’t your client, madam, as she seemed unhappy in the extreme when she left.”

“Apparently, my lord, she is one of my clients now .” The smile was back in Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s voice again.

“Ah, just so.” Good. There had been something in the desperate grief of that young woman that touched his heart. If his donation had made her happiness possible, then Thomas was satisfied it was money well spent. “Then I will take my leave of you, Mrs. Dove-Lyon. I doubt our paths will cross again, so I will thank you once more.” Thomas bowed and turned to leave only to be stopped by a softer version of Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s voice.

“That was well done, my lord. The young lady will want to thank you for your generosity, I am sure. You have a very generous nature, it seems. As Lord Danford can also attest, I believe.”

Thomas spun around, but of course, couldn’t see the woman’s face. “How did you—”

“I am the most well-informed woman in London, my lord. I know everything that goes on, in and out of London.” The figure in black rounded the desk and came to stand before him. “I am also a woman who understands long odds, my lord. Although you had no cause to show Lord Danford mercy, against all odds, you did. Had he died, his behavior here might have brought unwanted attention to my establishment.” Her voice had softened again. “You have done the Lyon’s Den proud, my lord. I promise you, I will not forget it.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” Thomas bowed and left, bound for home where Honoria awaited him. Filled with his child, God willing. And if not, well, now they had plenty of time to make it a certainty. Time enough for all the love in the world.