Page 2 of Love, Lies, and the Lyon (The Lyon’s Den Connected World)

Present day

T he assembly rooms at St Albans were a prime venue for matchmaking, Anastasia believed, but when it came to her younger sister, Betsey, she was nearing her wit’s end.

Tonight, the Banks ladies graced the assembly rooms and the room was a delight.

A string quartet played with a pipe and a drum, and the room was filled with chattering families, unwed men and young women, gossiping older matrons, and happily married couples.

The scene was set in Anastasia’s mind. All that was needed was a suitable young man for her sister.

But across the room, Anastasia spotted her sister dancing with a telltale sign of annoyance.

Betsey’s small mouth twisted and she winced as her dance partner stepped on her foot. Again. He was not a good dancer and was out of time with the others, and worse, oblivious to it.

It was a shame that dancing in polite society was always in lines and formation so that anyone the least bit out of time was instantly shown up to look like a fool.

But that’s the part of the fun , Anastasia thought.

If a man couldn’t be bothered to learn some dance steps that would smooth his way into society and enable him to make a good match, then how could he be trusted to care for her sister?

And that’s the problem , Anastasia thought. No one can be .

When the gentleman stepped on her sister’s foot yet a third time, Anastasia took action. She moved in, ready to rescue Betsey as the dance ended. The poor fellow looked hopeful and completely unaware of the fact he had crushed her sister’s toes a number of times in the last few minutes.

Betsey gave him a slight smile and tried to hide her limp.

Anastasia moved closer when a young man with light-brown, curly hair appeared at her side and offered his arm.

Anastasia stopped and stared. He looked familiar somehow.

But they were not introduced. The cheek of the man, to offer his arm to a stranger. Who was he?

She approached them, ignoring Betsey’s shy smile and the man’s delighted expression as she accepted his arm, and hustled in. “Betsey, come. You are needed.”

Betsey shot her a frown. “What is it?”

“Father wants to speak with you. Now,” Anastasia said.

“I would be happy to escort your daughter—” started the man.

“We are sisters,” Anastasia hissed, eyes blazing at the man.

Betsey clapped a hand to her mouth and giggled as the young man’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry, I—”

“Do excuse us. I would speak with my sister alone.” Anastasia took Betsey’s hand and pulled her away, ignoring her sister’s giggles. “Hush up,” Anastasia said.

“Oh, come, you must find it funny. He thought you were my mama. What fun. I like him already,” Betsey said.

“You would.”

“And what is the harm in that? He was being kind.”

“Not to me,” Anastasia said.

“Well, he was to me. He saw I was tired and tried to escort me off the floor.”

“Yes, that is a point in his favor. What a shame you were so tired to begin with. I blame your dance partner.”

Betsey winced as she glanced back at the two men who watched them move away. “He was handsome. Even if he did have two left feet.”

“When your feet feel as though they are about to fall off tomorrow morning, I doubt you will think him quite so handsome,” Anastasia said.

“Better that than to not dance at all. I haven’t seen you dance once this evening,” Betsey shot back.

“I am too busy looking out for you.” And no one had asked her, but Anastasia wasn’t about to admit it.

“Well, I like him. Not the man I danced with, but my rescuer. He was charming. And handsome, and—”

“Impertinent. He began talking to you when you hadn’t been introduced. It’s rude.”

“You are such a stickler for the rules, Ana. No one cares about that so much.” Betsey pulled free of her sister’s hand.

“How are your feet?” Anastasia asked.

“Fine. I feel wonderful.” She limped.

Anastasia snorted.

“Truly, I could dance a reel,” Betsey said, smiling at another young man.

“Oh, Betsey, do not—” Anastasia’s mouth screwed up as the young man, a Mr. Edwards, to whom they had been introduced earlier in the evening, stopped and immediately asked Betsey to dance.

“I would love to,” Betsey said, accepting his hand.

Anastasia crossed her arms and stood on the sidelines as Betsey and her new partner joined the next set of dancers. All seemed well enough, until Mr. Edwards pulled Betsey away from the set.

Anastasia followed, when a nosy matron, Mrs. Palmer, took her arm, her sharp nails digging into her skin.

Anastasia grimaced in the lined face of the older woman, who said, her beady, dark eyes reminding Anastasia of witches in children’s books, “Ah, Miss Banks. How wonderful to see you and your sister out at the assembly. Pray, have you found many suitors for her?”

“She is weighing her options.”

“And what a shame that you yourself do not dance this evening. Why is that?”

“I have no inclination to dance,” Anastasia said.

“What a pity. But then at your age, that doesn’t surprise me. How old are you again? Thirty?” Mrs. Palmer asked.

Anastasia gave the woman a firm glare. “If you’ll excuse me.”

The matron grinned. Her breath smelled like tobacco and wine. She released Anastasia’s arm.

Anastasia had not gone far, looking through the crowd for her sister, when she stepped into the shadows, peering.

Then she overheard it. The recognizable droning voices of two matrons talking.

And if she wasn’t mistaken, it was Mrs. Sudwell, a busybody of a woman who had only lately moved to town but had been quite vocal in her disapproval of many things, and Mrs. Gull, a lifelong resident of St Albans, who was at best, a gossip, and at worst, an interfering woman with five daughters married and no one else to bother with in her immediate family.

Mrs. Gull said, “Well. There goes the Banks girl. Truly, I pity her poor sister.”

Anastasia proceeded to ignore them, when Mrs. Sudwell said, “That Miss Banks, she’s got a sharper eye for her sister than my husband’s best hunting dogs. That poor girl. Miss Betsey will never find a husband. Not with Anastasia nosing around. No man could stand it.”

Anastasia listened. What did they mean?

“I swear, the younger Miss Banks will have to practically throw herself at a young man to get his attention or elope. She can barely smile at a man without her sister ruining it.”

Anastasia’s mouth dropped open. She wasn’t that bad. She was just looking out for her sister. The girl was only eighteen. She needed looking after, and their father wasn’t up to the job. Not since their mother had died.

Anastasia wanted to listen more but suspected it would ruin her mood, more so than their conversation already had. She wanted Betsey to have a nice time, just… with someone suitable. She looked around but did not see her sister anywhere.

She crossed the room, swiftly moving around couples, when she saw Betsey’s two closest friends Maria and Emma. The girls were nice enough, but their incessant giggling about nothing in particular quickly gave her a headache.

As expected, when she went to the girls, they exchanged a look and giggled behind their hands. Emma, a short girl with spots on her chin and shiny, black hair in ringlets, said, “I think Betsey made a new acquaintance.”

“Who?”

“Um…”

“Where is she?” Anastasia asked.

Maria, a short, busty brunette with a penchant for wearing too many ruffles, was a craftier and bigger gossip than her friend. She grinned and said, “I think she went out to the balcony to get some air.”

Anastasia walked past without curtseying or saying another word. Maria huffed. “Well. That was rude.”

Anastasia didn’t care. She didn’t care if she was called “rude” or “a spinster” behind her back, or to her face. She had to find Betsey. She crossed around people to the balcony and opened the glass-paned doors to the outside, getting a rush of cool air.

There was the end of a fight. Mr. Edwards lay on the ground, rubbing his chin, whilst another young man stood in front of Betsey. He was the familiar-looking fellow who had offered his arm to her earlier. They stopped as Anastasia entered the space. “What is going on here?” she asked.

“Nothing,” Mr. Edwards said, getting up from the floor.

The young man in front of Betsey crossed his arms and waited for the other man to leave.

Mr. Edwards shoved past Anastasia and muttered something rude under his breath.

The familiar looking young man turned to Betsey. “Are you all right?”

She nodded. “Yes, I’m fine, thank you.”

“What is this?” Anastasia asked.

“Oh, Ana, this young man saved me,” Betsey said. “The other young man was… well… not very gentlemanlike.”

If Anastasia were a wild dog, her hackles would have risen. She bristled. “What did he do? Do I need to call the authorities? I’ll have him removed.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Betsey said. “Mr. Edwards was getting a bit too familiar. I’d thought he was helping escort me out for some fresh air, but I was mistaken. But thanks to this gentleman here, nothing happened. I’m fine.”

“It was my pleasure. I’m just glad you are all right,” the young man said, gallantly, nodding at her.

Betsey blushed, the full moon overhead shining down on her rosy cheeks and soft, blonde hair. “Thank you,” she said shyly.

Anastasia was ready to roll her eyes. There was another young man, soon to be smitten with her younger sister. “Well, thank you for your assistance, Mister…?”

“Jemisin. Percy Jemisin.”

Anastasia’s words died in her throat. “Jemisin?”

“Yes. I have an older brother,” the young man said. “Perhaps you might know him? Jeremiah Jemisin.”

Anastasia swallowed. “Yes, we are acquainted. Come, Betsey. We need to go. Father is waiting.”

“But—”

“Now.” Her tone was hard. To Mr. Jemisin, she said, “Thank you. Good night.” She grabbed Betsey’s arm and pulled her out of the balcony space.

“Ana, what are you doing?” Betsey asked. “I know very well that Father isn’t here. What are you on about? He was being perfectly nice, and you had to ruin it.”

“Tell me later.” Anastasia hustled her sister away, out of the assembly rooms and into a waiting carriage, paying the driver to take them back to their father’s home.

“What is wrong with you?” Betsey demanded in the darkness of the carriage. “Why did you pull me away? I was having a perfectly nice time until Mr. Edwards tried to kiss me, and Mr. Jemisin—”

“Don’t say his name.”

“Why? What’s wrong? He has a perfectly nice name, and I like him. He was very gentlemanly and kind, which is more than I can say for your behavior this evening. What’s gotten into you? You were more like a bear than my sister tonight.”

“I was looking out for your welfare. You can’t trust just every young man who asks you to dance.”

“Well, no worries there. Half the town was at the assembly rooms tonight, and they all saw you embarrass me so. Honestly, Ana, you treat me like a child, when I’m not. I’m eighteen. I’m a grown woman.”

“Who would have gotten into a very bad situation if Mr. Jemisin hadn’t intervened. I’m glad he was there to protect you.” And now we must never see him again , she thought.

“For someone who says she cares about me, you have an odd way of showing it.” Betsey let out a noise of indignation and stared out the window. She didn’t speak another word to Anastasia the entire ride home.