Page 21 of Lyon’s Obsession (The Lyon’s Den Connected World #91)
T he structure ahead was assuredly imposing, but, even still, Theodora balked at the hold Lady Emma had on her arm, tugging her along beside her.
Surely, she had seen the building previously, but she had never asked of it, beyond when she had threatened to come to the Lyon’s Den and tend her father when he was shot, and her father had not once pointed it out to her.
“How did you manage to talk me into this?” Theodora dug in her heels and refused to budge.
“Because as you well know I am marrying Richard this coming week, and I shall be gone for several weeks.” Emma turned to face her.
“You must learn whether Lord Marksman is truly your only choice, Theodora. Richard says Mrs. Dove-Lyon takes her matchmaking services quite seriously, and the woman has arranged more than five and twenty successful marriages among the haut ton over the last few years. Richard even considered arranging a marriage with me more than a year prior.”
“He did?” Theodora asked in surprise. “We all knew he was quite taken with you, but none of us thought he had considered reaching out to you in that manner.”
“You are stalling again,” Emma said with a smile. “Mrs. Dove-Lyon is said to be more than a bit eccentric, but we are not paying for eccentricity. We are paying for results.”
“You simply wish to know the look of the inside of the Lyon’s Den,” Theodora accused.
Emma grinned. “Are you not curious? After all, Duncan and all his sons…”
Dora demanded, “Do not remind me that my father nearly died on these bricks.”
“I apologize,” Emma repeated. “I was not thinking in regards to Lord Duncan’s attack.”
Theodora glanced at the pale blue house with its many windows, each lined in white. “It surely does not appear to be a place of evil, though I suppose it is.”
Lady Emma countered, “People would have said the same of Lord Davidson’s home, and we both know the depths of his evil.”
“Let us go inside. We may always leave if it does not appeal to us,” Theodora said with a shift of her shoulders.
With a renewed hope, they approached the main door, only to have two men step before them to prevent their entrance. “You must use the ladies’ entrance, my ladies.” One pointed to the corner of the house. “Ladies’ entrance is there. Ask for Helena or Hermia. They will see to your wishes.”
“Thank you, sir,” they said as they turned in the direction the man had pointed.
“A separate women’s entrance?” Emma said with a giggle. “Richard said something in that manner, but he never elaborated. Are men and women kept separate once inside?”
“How am I to know?” Theodora said with more testiness than she wished. It was not Emma’s fault that Marksman was being so contrary.
Arm-in-arm and undaunted, they followed the man’s direction only to encounter a flight of stairs, leading to another entryway. “One final chance to change your mind,” Emma suggested.
“I may change my mind even as I say my vows,” Theodora declared. Then with a grin, she added, “So might you.”
“Never,” Emma said with a shake of her head. “This waiting to be Richard’s wife is maddening.” To Dora, her friend asked again, “Are we climbing the stairs or not?”
“Climbing,” Theodora assured, no longer hesitating.
Still holding hands, they climbed the stairs only to be met by two large-boned women dressed in men’s clothing.
“Hermia and Helena, I assume,” Emma said in a voice full of confidence.
Odd to say, Theodora was assured when stratagems involving her father’s investigations were required, whereas Lady Emma was bold when it came to situations that involved meeting strangers.
“Do you have an appointment?” one of the women asked.
“No. I apologize. We do not,” Emma continued to speak for the both of them. “We wished to speak to Mrs. Dove-Lyon.”
“The cut and style of your clothes say you could pay for the mistress’s services,” the woman said as she eyed them up and down in a manner that appeared to flummox Emma as much as it did Theodora. “Are you prepared to pay for Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s expertise?”
“If all proves as we hope,” Emma said boldly, “we are in a position to pay the necessary fees.”
The two guards exchanged a knowing smile, but the one who had been questioning them said, “Please follow Hermia.” The one who must have been Helena opened the door, which led into a poorly lit hall, where the walls were covered in pink paint and gilt paper.
When Theodora stumbled to a halt before a gaudy painting, Emma tugged on Dora’s hand to keep her moving. “A replica of Leda and the Swan ,” Emma said softly.
“How do you know?” Theodora gestured to the portrait, as more than a bit of color rushed to her cheeks setting them tingling.
“You would be surprised what hangs on the walls of many of the homes on the Continent,” Lady Emma explained. “I saw more than that image when I was still as young as five. More than that since.”
“Your name, miss?” Hermia asked.
Emma continued to speak for them. “I am Lady Emma Donoghue, but I do not require Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s services. This is Lady Theodora Duncan.”
“Lord Duncan’s daughter?” the woman asked. “I hope his lordship is recovering well. All of us at the Lyon’s Den prayed for his recovery.”
Theodora had never thought about how those employed in a place such as an infamous gaming hell might offer prayers to God, but if she were truly a better person, she would have realized even sinners had a place at God’s knees.
Had not Alexander often spoken of offering prayers to God when he had been blessed with discovering an extra potato for his supper?
God was not simply a God for the wealthy.
“Thank you for the prayers,” Dora repeated when Emma’s grip tightened about her hand, dragging Theodora from her self-chastisement.
“My father still has some healing to go, but he is up and about. I owe both Titan and Mrs. Dove-Lyon my most sincere regards for their quick interventions on that fateful evening.”
“The mistress learned much of healing and medicine at her mother’s side. They both followed the drum,” Hermia explained.
“I must apologize again,” Theodora admitted.
“I never knew of Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s history with those in war beyond an acknowledgement of her marriage to the colonel.
I was simply thankful others assisted my brother Benjamin with my father’s care.
I will remember Mrs. Dove-Lyon in my prayers this evening, and thank God for His foresight in placing my father on her doorstep in such a tragic moment. ”
“The Devil brought the evil, but God corrected it,” Emma said sagely.
They stopped then before an impressive set of doors, and Hermia turned the latch on the one on the left. “You may wait within, my ladies,” Hermia told them. “I shall tell Mrs. Dove-Lyon that you wish to speak to her.”
Theodora and Emma stood in stunned silence for several elongated minutes.
The parlor was also decorated in pink and gold.
Moreover, the artwork displayed on the walls was equally as “garish” as was the one Theodora had viewed previously.
“Please say your parents did not permit you to view… to view… I cannot form a proper question.”
“I shall keep my opinion to myself,” Emma said softly. Her friend tilted her head to look upon one quite explicit scene. “Richard will not understand why I am not shocked on our wedding night.”
Theodora whispered, “Do you suppose a man might look thusly?”
“You have five brothers,” Emma argued.
“Yet, I have never viewed any of them in such a state of undress,” Dora countered.
“We should look away,” Emma insisted.
“The other walls are all similarly decorated,” Theodora stated the obvious.
Emma tugged on Theodora’s hand. “Let us sit and keep our eyes on each other or the floor while we wait.”
The woman called Hermia returned with a tray containing two glasses and a decanter of wine. She placed the tray on a sideboard. “Might I pour each of you a glass of wine? Some, waiting upon Mrs. Dove-Lyon, find their nerves require a bit of bracing.”
“Thank you kindly,” Emma said, but Theodora noticed how Emma kept her eyes averted, making Dora giggle. “I shall pour.”
“The paintings are not to my taste either,” Hermia said with a serious nod before leaving them alone.
“What am I doing?” Theodora asked softly. “Perhaps I should tell Mrs. Dove-Lyon that this was a mistake.”
“I do not think it is a mistake,” Lady Emma said in firm tones, “and neither does Richard.”
“You have spoken to Richard of this… this…” Dora asked in shock.
“Lord Orson and I have agreed not to keep secrets. Richard believes that Marksman has misused you of late, though my betrothed swears Marksman does not look upon Miss Moreau in the same way he does you. Meanwhile, I can guarantee when Marksman saw you, first, on Mr. Hartley’s arm, and then Lord Almano’s, the earl knew great longing. ”
“Yet, it is possible Alexander still will never choose me,” Theodora confirmed.
“It is possible,” Emma admitted. “Therefore, it is necessary for you to take the acquaintance of other respectable gentlemen. If nothing less, at Lord Almano’s hands, you learned not all gentlemen are truly a gentleman.
Richard says the ‘count,’ if he is a ‘count,’ is deeply in debt.
Your thirty thousand pounds was too tempting for the man.
The count did not realize either your father or one of your brothers, including Marksman, would have slit the Sardinian count open from nose to navel if he had harmed you.
Your biggest problem is you, early on, set your sights on Marksman.
Few within society have even held a conversation with you. ”
“I believe I require a glass of wine, after all,” Dora said into the stunned silence.