Page 19 of Lyon of Scotland (The Lyon’s Den Connected World)

“It does.” He lifted her hand to kiss her knuckles. “What changed your mind?”

“I remembered a dream. You said very little to me in those days, but you were in my dreams.”

“Was I?”

“You still are.” It took a little courage to admit that to him.

He traced his fingers over her cheek. She sighed. “So we agree to do this?”

“We do,” she said, leaning toward him for another kiss, warm and quiet and deepened somehow by what they had said. “What do we need to do?”

“This morning we will be in a bit of a hurry, and I apologize for that. It cannot be helped… Scott went to find the minister of the Church of Scotland nearby to arrange a ceremony in an hour or so. Can you be ready soon?”

“An hour! I must dress, and pack my things.”

“That dark-blue gown is fine for a wedding.”

“Fine!” She laughed. “Hardly a good word for wedding attire.”

“Miss Gordon, marry me in that lovely blue gown.”

She caught her breath, smiled. “That is rather romantic, sir.”

“Good. There is something else. As soon as we are married, we must board a steamer for Scotland. I need to reach a port along the coast to try to meet another steamer before it sails to London.”

“Why is that?”

“The whisky shipment must be intercepted before Dove can lay claim to it. I will explain more later.”

“Aye, go, then, Strathburn. I must get ready for my wedding.”

He kissed her cheek, simply that, and she melted, then waved him toward the door. Moments later she heard voices in the hallway and Georgina rushed into the library.

“You are marrying Lord Lyon? Oh my dear, you never said—”

“It happened very fast. We knew each other in Edinburgh—”

“The doctor just told me. So exciting! We must find a dress and make plans!”

“There is no time, dear.” Hannah smiled, smoothing her blue woolen skirt. “This will do nicely. I must pack some things quickly, for we will leave on a steamship this morning. Do you think you could send the rest of my things north?”

“Of course. Anything you want. Oh, I will miss you so!” Georgina hugged her.

Laughing with her cousin, Hannah felt an anxious quaver. This impulsive step frightened her a little, yet she felt compelled to take this leap, beyond all the reasons, choices, and imminent threats facing her…and Strathburn, too.

Then she saw him walk past the doorway in conversation with Linhope. Suddenly, she knew in her bones, in her soul, that this time she was following her dreams. This time, she would find love—and perhaps, she already had.

“To the church?” Linhope asked as Dare settled on the leather bench beside him and the carriage driver guided them away from Lincoln’s Inn Fields to the nearest street.

“A couple of errands first. I asked the driver to stop at Drummond’s bank and then at a shop on Ludgate Hill recommended by the hotel concierge. One last stop after that, then to the church.”

“There is just enough time if we hurry. The others will meet us at the church. All is well.”

They said little as the carriage rumbled through the streets. Anxious but loath to admit it, Dare was grateful for his friend’s understanding. He was not usually so impulsive, and this morning, he especially appreciated Linhope’s easy silence.

As the carriage rolled along, bells rang out, horse hooves clopped, chimney smoke curled upward, steam rose from vendor carts.

The smell of roasted chestnuts was nutty and sweet as Dare watched the streets through the carriage windows.

Throngs of Londoners walked, ran, and rode along, some in fine clothing, others in plain or even ragged garments, each with somewhere to go, something to do.

Meanwhile, he hurtled toward marriage, thinking of it as a miracle, and hoping his bride did not see it as a mistake.

“With luck, you can get passage on the steamer leaving at eleven,” Linhope said.

“I am glad the lady agreed to this. I could never have left her to fend for herself in this dreadful awful situation.”

“You are a good man. She sees that.”

Inside Drummond’s, Dare had a cheque drawn up for Mrs. Dove-Lyon, then withdrew cash notes to cover a donation to the church, steamship passage and expenses for two, and some for his additional errand. Soon the carriage turned onto Ludgate Hill.

“Rundell and Bridge, Jewelers.” Linhope peered out the window. “Well done, sir!”

“Wish me luck.” Dare slipped outside.

Luck was with him. Mr. Rundell, elderly and spry, knew his inventory well. Upon learning that the kilted Scottish gentleman needed a special piece immediately, he produced a tiny wooden box with a brass latch. Inside was a slim golden ring set with four small colorful gemstones.

“A lovely hoop ring, sir, delicate and simple. We had it made as a sample, and now it awaits someone special. The stones are diamond, emerald, amethyst, and ruby, spelling out D–E–A–R. Your lady will treasure it.”

“Perfect, thank you.” Dare paid, took the box, and returned to the carriage. “One last errand,” he told Linhope. “College of Arms, then the church. I need to leave a note for Naylor, but I hope to find a messenger on the street to deliver it.”

“Toss me a coin, my friend. I’ll do it.”

Laughing, Dare threw Linhope a shilling left from his purchase.