Page 32 of Love, Lies, and the Lyon (The Lyon’s Den Connected World)

I t was agreed that Aunt Mildred would stay at home, in case Betsey returned, or Mrs. Dove-Lyon came with fresh news, and Anastasia and her uncle would go after where the letter said the couple had gone.

This meant that Aunt Mildred got to spend the night in bed, whereas Anastasia and her uncle had servants quickly pack overnight bags and took a carriage within the hour, changing horses once they’d left London.

Anastasia and Betsey’s lady’s maid, Mary, was in tears for most of the journey, refusing to let them leave without her.

When she wasn’t crying or apologizing for not keeping an eye on Betsey, she was worrying and wrung her hands.

She begged Anastasia not to dismiss her for this infraction, until her uncle finally lost his temper and told the maid to keep quiet.

The miles slowly passed, but the roads were muddy, damp, and full of holes or grooves worn by wagon wheels over time. Anastasia fell asleep off and on but could not say how much time had passed.

It rained and was sunny. The wind grew stronger and louder outside as the carriage traveled north.

The small party spent little time at inns or taverns, only long enough to use the privy and change horses, or to eat a hasty meal before setting off again.

Sometimes they slept in the carriage and simply changed horses.

There was no time to waste, not when Betsey’s honor was at stake.

Anastasia’s mind turned in circles at her own poor behavior. If she had not clutched at Betsey so tightly, not been so controlling over the men she’d met, perhaps by now she would have been married or engaged to a good man.

She just hoped to God and whispered a prayer that Betsey was unharmed and safe. From what she had seen of the younger Mr. Jemisin’s behavior, he seemed keen to do right by her sister.

And yet, why had he gone along with the idea of running to Gretna Green?

He’d shown that he’d been willing to get permission from their father and court Betsey properly.

Had he lied? Had he encouraged Betsey to run away, or had it been Betsey’s idea?

Anastasia fretted, gripping her knees for lack of anything else to do.

What if he had lied about asking their father’s permission, and had only been playing along in an elaborate facade?

Why such a rush to run away together? Was it to avoid the hint of the scandal forcing their relationship to end, or did Percy have a more devious plan in mind, to deflower Betsey the first chance he got, under the guise of stealing her away to get married?

That thought made her grit her teeth. What if Percy had wanted to take advantage of Betsey this entire time?

Jeremiah’s mocking words echoed in her mind.

He himself had said his younger brother wasn’t the marrying sort.

And what if Betsey, believing herself in love with Percy, had gone along with the plan, only to soon discover that he had no intention of marrying her?

She clenched her fists and mentally willed the horses to go faster as rain pelted the windows. Faster. They must reach Gretna Green in time.

Part of her wanted to trust Betsey’s letter, which she had read a dozen times.

The blissfully happy Mrs. Percy Jemisin.

Betsey was no more than eighteen, and she didn’t expect Percy to be much older.

In his early twenties, she guessed. Even once they married, if they did, how would they survive? How would Percy support a wife?

She shook her head. She hadn’t even realized she had fallen back asleep until her uncle said, “Anastasia, we’re here.”

Her eyes flew open. Her back and bottom were sore from the constant jostling of the carriage, and she sat up straight. The rain had stopped and they were pulling into a town center, outside an inn.

The carriage doors opened and her uncle stepped out and gave her a hand. Blinking into the sunshine, she said, “Where might they be?”

“They might have only gotten a few hours’ lead ahead of us. I’m willing to bet they’ll be at the blacksmith’s. I’ve heard that’s where these marriages take place,” her uncle said.

Anastasia looked. The blacksmith’s shop stood a little distance away. “You two check the church.” She picked up her skirts and began to run.

Sprinting ahead and soon out of breath, she ran to the blacksmith, an open smithy that was warm with heat.

Betsey and her beau stood by a large anvil with a swarthy-looking blacksmith wearing a leather apron, and two people, strangers, stood nearby as witnesses.

Their faces were bored and drawn as they stood by, shabbily dressed.

They’d done this before, Anastasia realized.

They all stopped and stared at her arrival. Sweaty, panting, Anastasia breathed hard and put her hands on her knees. “Betsey,” she breathed.

Betsey let out a curse. “No. No, Ana, I’m going to marry him, and I’m not going to let you stop me. We love each other. I’m not going to let you ruin this for me.”

Anastasia straightened, pushed sweaty tendrils of her hair out of her face, and walked boldly up to them.

Mr. Jemisin stepped in her way, his expression dark. “Miss Banks, I—”

“I’m sorry. Please forgive me,” Anastasia uttered.

“What?” Mr. Jemisin and Betsey said together. They looked at each other.

“What do you mean, you’re sorry?” Betsey asked.

“I’ve been a fool. A complete and utter fool. I’ve been so stupid, so stubborn, I couldn’t see what was right in front of me. I’m sorry. We were so worried when you ran away and left that note. I’ll not stand in your way.”

“You won’t?” Mr. Jemisin asked. “But why?”

Anastasia brushed down her skirts. “Because. Years ago when I knew your brother and we courted, I thought we would marry. I made a foolish decision and have regretted it ever since. I thought you, Mr. Jemisin, were exactly like him, and I wanted to protect Betsey from repeating my mistake.”

“I would never—” Betsey started, but Anastasia held up a hand.

“I know now that you do care for her. I worried I wouldn’t find you at all. But you’re here, at a blacksmith’s. Why couldn’t you wait and marry properly back at home, or in London? Why the urgency?”

Percy and Betsey looked at each other. Betsey’s eyes shone, and Percy swallowed.

“When the news story about your past came out, it was all we could think about. We were afraid your family would refuse to let us be together.”

Anastasia bowed her head. “Because you were embarrassed of me?”

“No. I was afraid your father would guess who the source was and refuse to let us marry,” Percy said.

“I feared he would refuse because of me. Because of my brother.” He ran a hand through his hair and came closer to Anastasia.

His voice was quieter. “Jeremiah has done this before. He has moved from town to town with his regiment, and he makes it his business to charm young women. Sometimes he demands money for his trouble. Other times, he’s gone at first light.

Sometimes he’s given them my name. What I do know is that when the creditors come looking for him, they find me instead.

It drove our family into debt, and I have worked odd jobs for tradesmen for years to support my family.

My father died of an attack of the heart some five years ago.

Our mother died when I was but a child, so I don’t remember much of her.

” He looked at Betsey. “I promised your father that I was a good, honest man, and had a little bit saved. Enough that I could own our own house in St Albans and support a wife.”

Anastasia’s shoulders lowered, and she felt a tension leave her. “You are serious.” She brushed away a tear. “But why come here? We were afraid…”

“It was my idea,” Betsey said. “I wanted to get away from everyone and suggested we just go and do it—get married, I mean. Percy’s only a few weeks away from being twenty-one, so we wouldn’t need Jeremiah’s permission then.

Then no one would be able to stop us, and we could have a proper wedding breakfast later. ”

Anastasia let out a sigh. She hadn’t needed to worry about Betsey’s safety so much, after all. And truth be told, running away at the first sign of trouble did seem like something Betsey would do. At least she knew they were all right. “I am happy for you.”

“You are?” Betsey asked.

“Yes. You found love. That’s so… Do you have any idea how uncommon that is? To truly find love, not just a man who’s willing to marry you for your money or your name. Who wants you ? It’s rare. So, if you will allow it, I will be a witness for your wedding.” Anastasia’s voice came out strong.

Betsey looked at her with shining eyes and embraced her. The sisters held each other close.

Anastasia felt something break down between them. Like a rock wall, or a crumbling bridge. She felt a connection she hadn’t felt for some time. Maybe her sister really would forgive her.

Mr. Jemisin— Percy to her now, she supposed—hugged Anastasia and kissed her cheek. “I embrace you like my very own sister, if I had one.”

Anastasia gave a little laugh and brushed away a fresh tear. “Thank you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything.”

Betsey laughed, and it was a lighthearted sound.

“Ahem.” Someone cleared his throat from nearby. But Anastasia knew that voice, and it made her skin crawl.

Heads turned.

“What are you doing here?” Percy asked.

Anastasia looked upon her former lover with dread.

Jeremiah, wearing a shabby military uniform, ran a hand through his hair and marched forward. He gave Anastasia a little wink. “Miss me?”

Her heart turned to stone. “What do you want?”

“Why, to join in this happy celebration. Unfortunately, I cannot allow this to proceed. Rector, step aside.”

“What is the meaning of this, young man?” the blacksmith asked.

“I cannot allow this wedding to take place. I protest. It must stop at once.”

Betsey’s eyes filled up with tears, again. “But why?” She and Percy clutched at each other’s hands.