Page 6 of Enchanted by the Lyon (The Lyon’s Den Connected World #93)
L ucius entered his breakfast room and saw his brother slumped in his chair.
The plate of food in front of him remained mostly untouched and he was leaning his head on the back of his seat.
His eyes were closed, causing Lucius to wonder if the younger man had dozed off.
But then the sound of a servant rushing forward with a brimming cup of coffee that rattled on the saucer alerted Leopold he was no longer alone.
“Your coffee, my lord,” the girl said placing the cup on the table in front of Lucius and stepped back, waiting for any further orders.
“Thank you, Silvia,” Lucius replied as another servant came from the kitchen with a covered plate, lifted the dome that had kept the food warm and set it down before him before quickly leaving the room.
Lucius picked up his fork to eat his breakfast and sighed in appreciation.
“Ah. Breakfast.” He took up a forkful of eggs.
A moan of agony came from the far end of the table, causing Lucius to grin before he sat back in his chair. “Feeling a bit under the weather, brother?” He put his fork down and picked up his coffee cup for a sip.
“I feel like an army of horses are stomping their way through my head.” Leopold groaned once more. “I swear, I will never drink again.”
A short laugh escaped Lucius. “I wonder how many times I’ve heard that coming from you?”
Leopold squinted his bloodshot eyes at Lucius and gave him a lopsided grin. “Probably too many to count. But I mean it this time,” he said with a strained tone as if in an attempt to sound convincing.
“Shall we make a bet on it,” Lucius teased, knowing his brother wouldn’t take the bait.
“I think not,” he replied. “Nor will I be going back to the Lyon’s Den any time soon. That place will be the death of me.”
“It’s not necessarily the place that will do you in but your choices of the tables at which you play.
I thought you were well aware of the chances you take there.
Not all of the games are of the normal nature that you would find at an establishment like White’s.
Some just might find you in debt to Mrs. Dove-Lyon.
You know she’s adept at rigging her games to make marriage matches,” Lucius warned taking another drink of his coffee.
“Everyone knows matchmaking is her real moneymaker. Or did you forget that?”
“How could I have forgotten something so important? But maybe it was because I was too far into my cups and my thinking was impaired. Obviously,” Leopold replied before leaning forward and pushing a newsprint across the table. “You might want to take a look at page two.”
Lucius grabbed hold of the paper before it managed to slide off the table. The Teatime Tattler headline splashed across the top of the page caused him to grimace. “What the devil are you doing reading such trash? You know most of what they print is a bunch of rubbish.”
Leopold took a cautious bite of his eggs. He pointed the fork once it left his mouth in Lucius’s direction. “Second page,” he answered, and made a face. “Too soon for food,” he muttered and put his fork back down on the table. “Do you think they gave us absinthe?”
“Anything is possible at the Lyon’s Den, brother,” Lucius muttered.
Leopold ran his hand through his hair before once more leaning back in his chair. “Well, whatever that drink was had me looking for the Green Fairy but all I saw was stars.”
Lucius chuckled. “Well, if you ever happen to see the actual Green Fairy, catch her for me. I understand she can inspire you to become creative or even feel liberated.”
“The only thing I need liberated from at the moment is this hangover.” Leopold then pointed to the newsprint. “Best give it a read.”
Lucius smirked before turning to the second page. He quickly scanned the headlines, not seeing anything of much import until he got to the middle of the page.
Dearest Gentle Reader:
It has come to the attention of this editor that none other than the Earl of B was seen last evening on a particular street known to house the mistresses of the most elite gentlemen of Society.
That the earl was seen there is hardly news but when an eye witness sees him leaving one lady’s house only to encounter another (a Mrs. C.V.), then it could be assumed that the earl may be making a settlement soon on his latest woman of interest and taking another to replace her… again!
As for Mrs. C.V., alas… she is the last of the women who has been known by this reliable paper as belonging to none other than the Wicked Widow’s Club .
Given her recent association with esteemed members of the ton , perhaps this widow just might find herself also wed to a respectable gentleman…
or not, if she has any sort of interest in the earl.
Stay tuned for the latest updates on this breaking story. More is sure to follow…
Samuel Clemens
Editor of the Teatime Tattler
“ Bloody Hell ,” Lucius cursed setting down the newspaper. “Who the devil saw me last night?”
Leopold shrugged as took another attempt at eating his breakfast. “Could have been anyone. I swear that damn editor has reporters hiding everywhere. Nothing escapes them.”
“I barely had a conversation with Mrs. Vaughn other than to thank her for her assistance to Asher,” Lucius grumbled in irritation before reaching for his coffee.
A low chuckle left his brother’s lips. “I’m sure the reporter who saw you leave Virtue’s townhouse could only surmise that she had left you… well… unfulfilled,” Leopold said with a wicked grin.
“Not that my mistress should be a topic of conversation, but Virtue is perfectly capable of seeing to my needs,” Lucius warned his brother before continuing to eat.
Leopold shrugged. “I’m sure once Mother sees that print, she’ll be summoning you to her home. After all, you’re not getting any younger and she wants grandchildren. You know how she expects you to marry soon.”
“And she can be kept waiting. I have no desire to see myself wed to some woman without any thought in her head except on what to wear and who cares nothing for me but only my wealth and title.”
“Which is why I’m glad to be born the second son. I have no responsibilities other than to see myself entertained,” Leopold said with another laugh.
“And keep yourself out of debt. I don’t mind giving you your quarterly allowance as Father did before he passed but I will not have the estate paying for your frivolous nature,” Lucius proclaimed in another warning.
“Frivolous? Me? I am hardly irresponsible when it comes to money, brother.”
Lucius scowled as he looked over at his brother, who appeared contrite enough. Maybe he was being too hard on his sibling. “Just be careful if you return to the Lyon’s Den. I don’t wish for either of us to be in debt or beholden to the Black Widow of Whitehall.”
“I should issue you the same warning, brother. You, after all, are of a more marriageable age. I may have my own business dealings to keep myself in the lap of luxury and not be completely dependent on an allowance, but I am, again, only a second son with no title.”
His brother had a point and he wondered if perhaps he should send a note to Valentine to cancel his evening entertainment.
But he had already told Val he’d be in attendance at the Lyon’s Den tonight so Lucius didn’t see any reason to be alarmed.
A few games of chance would be fine, and wouldn’t cause Lucius any financial problem should he lose a few hands.
“Just remember what I’ve warned you about, Leo. No going into debt with the Black Widow of Whitehall,” Lucius warned. “Or getting matched.”
Leopold finished what remained on his plate and leaned back in his chair with a grin. “You sound just like Father when he took me to task,” his brother said before continuing. “He’d be proud of you, Lucius.”
Lucius scoffed at the idea. “I highly doubt that but appreciate your words. Mother continues to remind me that I will never live up to his memory.”
“And you need to stop listening to her harping. You more than live up to Father’s memory. You only need to believe it yourself.”
Lucius had no reply and excused himself from the table. He went to his study to take care of business matters he had neglected the day before. When there was a knock on his door, his butler entered carrying a silver dish.
“This was just delivered for you, my lord,” he said.
Lucius reached for the envelope before nodding to his butler. “Thank you, Merrit.”
The man bowed and left the study and when he’d closed the door, Lucius turned over the message. The emblem for the Lyon’s Den was stamped in the red seal wax and he wondered what this was about.
Then he broke the seal and quickly read the invitation.
Mrs. Dove-Lyon was holding a special event where the ladies would be joining the men for a masquerade ball in two weeks.
This was certainly unexpected since the men and women of the Lyon’s Den rarely met in the same space—unless the owner was up to her matchmaking endeavors.
He flipped the envelope over again and noticed his brother’s name written beneath his own name.
Leopold is obviously too na?ve to attend and not get captured.
Look how easily he quaffed that noxious green drink on a dare.
Honestly, he’d be matched to a miss in a moment, unless I attend the masquerade as well, to keep an eye on him.
He smiled, knowing how he did enjoy a masquerade. Thinking of the hours where he could be anyone behind a mask, he began to look forward to an evening where anything could be possible.