Page 5 of Enchanted by the Lyon (The Lyon’s Den Connected World #93)

C assandra sat uncomfortably in a front salon waiting for her friend Moriah, Marchioness of Saxton, to join her.

In the end, Cassandra had felt that Moriah might be her best option to ask for aid.

She had been married the longest of her three remaining friends and, to her mind’s eye, was most likely more settled.

Still… she was inside the home of a marquis and his marchioness, and Cassandra felt so out of place in these unfamiliar surroundings that she almost rose and fled.

This whole idea would surely fail. She had just made up her mind that this was a completely foolish notion and even stood to make a hasty retreat when the rapid sound of footsteps drawing near halted any progress toward the door. Moriah filled the entryway to the room.

“Cassie, darling!” Moriah declared, rushing forward to sweep her friend into a fierce embrace before she kissed both her cheeks. “I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting.”

Cassandra hugged her friend. “In reality, I’ve not been waiting all that long.

I barely got here, Moriah,” she exclaimed while both her hands were taken in her friend’s and given a gentle squeeze.

Then Moriah led her to a small table with chairs by the window.

It was set with china. Indeed, a servant quickly arrived with a full tea trolley that she rolled next to Moriah who promptly went about serving.

She passed a plate of cakes to Cassandra who put one on the flowered china dish.

Though it smelled and looked lovely, she was hardly hungry and made no attempt to nibble at the confectionary sweet.

“I’d hate it if I’ve come at a bad time, Moriah,” Cassandra began, lifting the cup Moriah filled and taking a sip of her tea.

Moriah reached over to again gently squeeze one of Cassandra’s hands. “There’s never a bad time to welcome a dear friend into my home. I only wish you would have come sooner.”

“I’ve been a bit busy,” she said sheepishly.

Moriah laughed. “Indeed, you have, dearest Cassie. The only one of the original Wicked Widows left to be happily married is you.”

Cassandra took another sip of her tea before she rushed on with the reason for her call. “That’s why I’m here, Moriah. I need your help.”

Moriah sat back in her chair and smiled. “Name it, and it’s yours.” She lifted her teacup to her lips and stared at Cassandra over its rim.

“You make it seem so simple,” Cassandra said as a heavy sigh escaped her. The potential fruitlessness of her task—even with Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s help—pressed on her shoulders. “You don’t even know what I’m going to ask.”

Moriah set down her cup. “Of course, it’s simple.

Patience was the last of us that you, yourself, ensured was wed to a respectable member of Society.

Now, it’s finally your turn. You must know that any one of us would give you anything you needed to see that you are also happily married with someone you could love.

” It was just as Mrs. Dove-Lyon had said.

“Restoring my reputation as a respectable woman will be harder than you might think. I’ve made a few enemies in my life,” Cassandra admitted honestly. There was no reason to hide her past, especially to the lady before her.

Moriah, who was tucking a strand of her sandy hair behind her ear paused with her hand to her ear with a sharp and assessing blue-eyed gaze. “Enemies? You? Why you’ve never hurt a soul in your life that would make anyone think hostile thoughts of you, as far as I know.”

“My husband’s brother, Barlow Vaughn, might disagree with you,” Cassandra admitted.

Moriah narrowed her eyes and leaned forward. “You’ve never mentioned him before, but we can ask Vincent what he knows of that foul creature if he has been a problem in your past. Besides… that was a lifetime ago. Certainly, the man wouldn’t hold a grudge this long.”

Cassandra raised her hand to wipe at her eyes.

She hadn’t expected tears to form, but she’d kept her concerns about this to herself for so long, talking about it even briefly had caused her emotions to bubble up.

She swallowed. “After Rupert died, Barlow was most… unpleasant.” She pushed back the memories and focused on reaching for her teacup instead.

She was here, now, and she was safe. She didn’t have to feel anxious.

Moriah’s brow furrowed as she most likely remembered what little Cassandra had told her before. “Wasn’t that how you ended up on the streets? He basically threw you out of your own house?” Moriah reached over to pat Cassandra’s hand.

Cassandra nodded. “Yes. He said Rupert was heavily in debt, but I never saw any signs that this was the case. My husband was very attentive, and we spent as much time together as we could. It was a love match, although his brother said I coerced his brother into the marriage. I’m not sure why he thought it was to my advantage to marry someone without a title when my father was a baron.

In fact, it was why my parents disowned me.

They thought I could do better. He knew this. Everyone did.”

“It sounds like this man resented you for some reason. Maybe he had some sort of grudge against you and wanted to get even. Maybe he only told you about the debts as a ruse to get his way, and they were fake.”

Cassandra shrugged. “They could have been for all I know. I was never given the opportunity to inspect them, and I had no one to confide in since my parents were no longer alive. Even if they were, I don’t know if they would have assisted me.

And, since I was an only child, I didn’t have any other relatives to turn to for advice either.

Plus, I was very young at the time and na?ve. ”

“Which could very well explain why your brother-in-law took advantage of you and the grief you were dealing with when you lost your husband,” Moriah said, scowling. “Besides him, who else holds something against you?”

“A couple of ex-lovers who I ended up calling the constables on after a rough night, if you take my meaning. One is Viscount Hollingsworth. You remember him, don’t you, Moriah?”

A sour look flashed across Moriah’s features. “He is one foul human being and calling him that is being generous. What the devil did you ever see in him anyway?”

Cassandra sighed heavily. “A momentary lapse in sound reasoning. Plus, I was desperate at the time to make ends meet.”

Moriah reached over for the teapot to refill their cups. “Until I can consult with Vincent, and for the time being, let’s forget about the past and concentrate on the future.”

Cassandra nodded and reached for her cup, but stopped when she noticed her hand was trembling. She fisted it into the fabric of her gown over her thighs and folded her other hand over it. “Yes.”

Moriah seemed to be choosing to ignore Cassandra’s nerves. She leaned back in her chair and gave her a bright, encouraging smile. “What do you need from me?”

Deep breath. “A place to stay until I can purchase a new townhouse in a better part of town, for starters.”

“Done! Pick any room of your choosing,” Moriah said with a big grin and a wave toward the open doorway. “What else?”

“I suppose to just be seen in the company of those accepted within Society will also be a good beginning. Mrs. Dove-Lyon has suggested I throw myself into charity work,” Cassandra said but couldn’t help the grimace that swept across her face.

Moriah nodded. “Very acceptable amongst the ton , although think how hypocritical it can be for the vipers of society pretending to be virtuous by caring for the needy, poor, and indigent when the cost of just one of their gowns would feel a starving family for a week.” She tapped her chin as if contemplating their next move.

“I can enlist the help of my mother-in-law. She has a wealth of information when it comes to charity work and will know just where to concentrate our efforts.”

A snort left Cassandra. “The Duchess of Montague will never help a nobody like me.”

Moriah wagged her finger in her direction. “Don’t ever talk about yourself like that. Why, if it wasn’t for you, Josephine, Patience, and I would still be considered members of the Wicked Widows Club ! I won’t stand for you talking down about yourself!”

“Your friendship means the world to me, Moriah,” Cassandra whispered in gratitude.

Moriah set down her teacup. “So, we’ve checked off the task of your living arrangements and throwing yourself into charity work.” A grin slipped across her mouth. “Tell me who you’ve set your eyes on… or maybe I should ask who Mrs. Dove-Lyon has chosen for your husband-to-be?”

“I’m not sure I should say anything in the event that the Black Widow is unable to get the man to conform and come to terms with whatever she might demand,” Cassandra replied with a grimace.

She didn’t particularly like the idea of forcing Lucius, or any man for that matter, into an arrangement they detested.

“Come now, Cassie darling… you’ve never kept secrets from me before,” Moriah coaxed with a warm smile. “Who is he?”

Cassandra took another sip of her tea for the strength to finally say his name aloud. “Lucius Ford.”

Moriah’s cup rattled in her saucer before she placed the china down on the table. “The Earl of Blackthorn?” she asked with wide eyes.

“Is there any other?”

Her friend blinked, swiped at her forehead, and turned those knowing blue eyes in Cassandra’s direction.

“Although he is a dear friend of my husband, I don’t think he is hardly marriage material.

Rumor has it he just recently took a new mistress after dismissing his previous one.

Why I wouldn’t be surprised if he hasn’t slept his way through every lady in your neighborhood. ”

Cassandra grimaced, knowing Moriah had been correct in her assumption. “I’m certain he has some redeeming qualities.”

“I suppose he does,” Moriah surmised, shaking her head. “Honestly, Cassie, you could do much better. I highly doubt a rake like him would ever be faithful to his wife, and I would hate for you to be hurt by one of the worse sorts. Why him?”

Why, indeed, she thought, knowing she didn’t really have an answer for her friend that would sound even a little bit logical.

“Of course, there are his good looks, but there’s more to him than that—from what I’ve seen,” Cassandra confided softly.

“Over the past year I’ve watched him playing cards at the Lyon’s Den and he certainly never becomes even the least bit upset when dealt a losing hand.

Nor has he ever been anything but the perfect gentleman and that trait is important to me, given my experiences with men who displayed tempers and angry tendencies.

Honestly, Moriah, how bad can he be? Other than his long line of mistresses over the years that I can overlook given my own reputation is far from exemplary, he seems…

well…” she trailed off, unable to pinpoint what it was about him that she found attractive.

She sighed and looked into her teacup as if it held answers.

If only she knew how to read tea leaves…

“My God… Cassie… you’re in love with him,” Moriah groaned falling back into her chair. Her hand covered her eyes as though she might faint.

“I never said I loved him,” Cassandra gasped.

Moriah threw her hands in the air and sat forward again. “You didn’t have to. It’s written all over your face.”

Another sigh left Cassandra’s lips. “I’ve already made the arrangements with Mrs. Dove-Lyon. Whatever her plans might be, they are already in the making.”

“Lucius Ford will never… and I repeat… never kowtow to the Black Widow of Whitehall’s plans for him or for marriage, for that matter. Honestly, if you’re expecting a love match, you’d best look elsewhere.”

“I can’t look to anyone else but him,” Cassandra confessed with a catch to her tone. “Every time I see him, it’s like everything that I’ve ever lost in my life comes back to me. I know it might not make any sense, but given the opportunity, I just know in my heart that we will suit.”

“I hope you’re right, Cassie,” Moriah said. Then, as if unwilling to hear any more on the topic—or perhaps because she didn’t want to discourage Cassandra—she began talking about Cassandra living there and the possible charities they could become involved in.

But Cassandra only listened with half an ear as she mused about every warning from Moriah about Lucius Ford.

Cassandra couldn’t help where her heart was leading her.

With every beat of her heart, every breath, she just knew that Lucius would one day be the perfect husband.

Why she had such a notion, she couldn’t say.

Call it intuition. Call it Destiny. But whatever it was, Cassandra was completed enchanted by the earl who frequented the Lyon’s Den.

She could only pray that he wouldn’t break her heart.