Page 34 of Love, Lies, and the Lyon (The Lyon’s Den Connected World)

But then had come a note from Mrs. Sherwood, who’d begged him to call on her.

At first he’d planned to ignore it, having just returned to London, but he’d decided he might as well.

He planned to tell her that he didn’t care what engagement announcement she had printed in the paper.

He had made his decision, and she would not be the woman he would marry.

He’d found her in her family’s parlor, standing by the window. She’d worn blue, his favorite color, but when she’d turned to receive him, her face had been ashen.

“Mrs. Sherwood, what’s wrong?” he’d asked.

“Oh, Theodore, I’ve been such a fool.” She’d fallen into his arms and then pushed him back and sniffed before relaying the story of how she’d fallen for Mr. Jemisin’s charms.

He’d growled. The man had already toyed with his beloved. Now he’d been messing about with Mrs. Sherwood too? This was not to be borne.

“Oh, Theodore, if only you’d agreed to marry me from the start, this never would have happened.” She’d given a dramatic sigh.

“Pardon?” He’d felt his hands clench and had had to forcibly unclench them. “How is this my fault?”

“Don’t you see? If you hadn’t gone and dallied with Miss Banks, we might be married by now. She’s used goods, anyway. You don’t want a woman like that. But now I need your help. My honor as a once-married woman, a widow…”

He’d felt a pull toward her. For all her faults, Mrs. Sherwood was the dearest and oldest friend of his younger sister, who would have been distraught to know she’d fallen prey to a philanderer.

“Please, won’t you help me?” Mrs. Sherwood had asked, unshed tears making her eyes glassy. She’d sniffed and blinked away a tear.

He’d felt caught in a bind. She had no brothers to fight for her, and her father was getting on in years.

In addition, if anyone heard of Mrs. Sherwood’s little indiscretion, any chance of future happiness for her would be ruined.

As a widow, whilst she could move about in society and not be considered pure, she also needed not to have idle gossip about her reputation floating around.

Her reputation would be in tatters if anyone found out, much like Miss Banks. He would not see that happen again.

“All right. I’ll see to it.” His face had turned to stone. “Excuse me.”

“Hardwicke, no. It’s my mistake. I…”

He’d shaken his head. “Tell no one.”

She’d nodded. “I thought you should know. Thank you. I knew you would be good to me. Julia always said you were kind.”

He’d bowed and turned to leave. But as he’d looked back, he’d wondered, had he detected a slight smile on her face?

That, followed by a visit to Mrs. Wildemay’s home on Devonshire Terrace had revealed that Miss Banks, her uncle, and a maidservant had gone off after her sister to Gretna Green.

Days of hard riding had finally led him here.

And now, seeing Miss Banks, her face red with embarrassment, he wanted to take her hand in his and tell her how he felt.

He wanted to feel the soft curves of her body against him, and he itched to touch her again and entangle his fingers in her lustrous hair.

But now wasn’t the time for that. At that moment, he wanted her to know that he didn’t care about her past, or the fact that she’d lain with a lout. He only wanted her.

But more urgent matters needed to be dealt with first. He told the elder Jemisin, “You heard me.”

Jeremiah Jemisin guffawed. “You, challenge me? I am the best shot in the regiment. What are you?”

“A gentleman.”

Jemisin snickered and slowly got up from the floor. The maid he’d been flirting with made a quick exit. He looked idly at the spilled beer and said, “Fine, I accept. On top of the hill outside the village green. Pistols at dawn. First blood. I call upon my brother to be my second.”

A small cry came out. “No.”

Heads turned to Betsey, who said, “No. No, this can’t be happening. You can’t fight.” She came upon them, biting her nails.

“Miss Betsey.” Theodore bowed.

“You can’t have him. You can’t. I love him. We’re going to be married,” she said. “All we have to do is wait until he’s a year older. We can wait.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it.” Jemisin snickered. “Him, marry a Banks girl? Over my dead body. Give it up already, girl.”

Betsey turned to Percy, who had approached and now stood beside her. “Percy, don’t do it. Don’t fight.”

“It won’t come to that, Miss Betsey. That’s not how duels work. Besides, I have to help, now that he’s asked. It’s my brother.”

To Theodore, she said, “But why? How could you challenge him? Why?”

“Mr. Jemisin has ruined a lady’s honor.”

“Who?”

“Your sister, seven years ago. It’s incumbent upon me to restore her honor. And he has toyed with Mrs. Sherwood, a close friend of my own sister’s.” To Betsey, he said, “I’m sorry.”

“No. No, no.” She ran to her sister, who comforted her.

Theodore looked upon them with regret. He had not meant to drag young Percy Jemisin into this.

What a bind he was stuck in now. He either killed Jeremiah and possibly landed his brother in jail if they were found out, which would separate the happy couple, or he would see the woman he loved face social ruin, and a close family friend be the butt of rude gossip.

Everyone started talking at once. Except for Miss Anastasia Banks, who looked at him, her face white with fear.