Page 49 of Lyon’s Obsession (The Lyon’s Den Connected World #91)
I t had been a sennight of privacy with his wife, and Alexander had been sore to leave their solitude behind, but when Lord Macdonald Duncan sent a note around that said, “Your presence with the family at breakfast and church is required, not requested,” then one put aside one’s continued lust for said wife and made an appearance.
Somewhere between the little girl he had comforted as a child in the schoolroom and now, Theodora had become both clever and complex.
In truth, over their time together, he had known a little rush from their verbal sparring.
On their first night together, while his hands caressed the lean curves of her body, a need he had never known possible had awakened in him.
She had held on to him as if her life depended on their embrace, and his body had exploded with a force Alexander had never thought possible.
Even now, as his carriage rolled to the curb, his fingers craved the smooth silk of her skin, and his nose sought out the scent of lavender water in her hair.
Their bodies fit together as if they were parts of a puzzle.
If given the ability, Alexander would hold on to her until the end of time.
Even now, his heart hammered out a special tattoo naming Lady Theodora Dutton as his other half.
He glanced at Duncan Place and smiled. All his protests had been for nought.
He had saved Theodora’s life, and she had saved him in return.
He was definitely lost to the multiple colors found in Dora’s eyes and the clinging grip of her hand right before her body submitted to his, as well as those sexy, muscular legs as they wrapped about him while he carried her to their bed.
She stepped down and a small wince crossed her expression. “Sore, my lady?” he asked with a smile.
Theodora laughed and swatted him on the shoulder with the back of her hand. “Should I tell my father how you have abused me, my lord?”
“Only if you wish to become a widow,” he said as he escorted her up the steps to her father’s house. “Duncan would come after me, but I would not protest, for all your complaints are true.”
Mr. Fields opened the door before Alexander could release the knocker. “Good day, my lord. Lady Marksman. Lord Duncan has been asking after you. Both Lords Beaufort and Thompson returned to Duncan Place last evening. Lord Graham and the Orsons came this morning.”
“Any indication of the reason?” Alexander asked as he assisted Theodora with her cape and bonnet.
“Not that I have been made aware, my lord,” Fields said diplomatically.
“Is my father feeling poorly?” Theodora asked.
“Again, not of which I have been told, my lady.” Fields added, “Unless to say his lordship might require a respite from losing at both chess and cards to Lady Annalise.”
Speaking of Annalise, his sister squealed Alexander’s name from the top of the stairs seconds before barreling down them to launch herself into his waiting arms. “You look grand and happy!” she declared with another embrace, before she turned to Theodora.
“Oh, my lady, you are equally resplendent. You left this house a girl and have returned as a woman, fully in bloom.”
His sister’s continued innocence was on display, though her sentiment was quite accurate. In Alexander’s opinion, Theodora no longer looked like a young girl. Though younger than Annalise, she appeared more mature and assured of her place in the world.
Neither he nor Theodora had time to respond before Duncan followed Annalise down the stairs. Theodora rushed to greet him, and Alexander watched as father and daughter both closed their eyes to savor the moment.
Annalise slid her hand into his and whispered, “Neither of us will ever experience a similar moment.”
It was sad to say, but she was correct: Annalise had been too young when she lost their mother, and Robert Dutton was more likely to raise his hand than to offer an embrace.
Even on his deathbed, he did not hold Alexander’s hand or offer any words other than to demand a promise that Alexander would find his mother and sister.
“Only when we are the parents,” he added.
“Please come through,” Duncan ordered, but he did not release Theodora’s hand. “Everyone is in the morning room.” To the waiting butler, he said, “You may serve, Mr. Fields.”
“Yes, my lord.” Fields darted away to set the meal service in action.
“To the happy couple,” Orson declared as they stepped into the morning room.
His brothers and Lady Emma, all raised a glass of champagne to him and Theodora.
Often, Alexander had wished for his actual father and mother in his life, but, in moments such as these, he knew he had never truly been alone; Lionel and, later Duncan, had protected him.
Once they were all at the table, Duncan said grace, as well as speaking of his gratitude for the safety of his family. Then, the customary chatter began with a pleasant back and forth between Alexander and his brothers, as well as Theodora and her “two sisters.”
“I was thinking,” Duncan said once they were all settled and the first of the dishes set on the sideboard for their choices, “it would be good for Alexander and Theodora to make their appearance as husband and wife and Lady Annalise as Marksman’s sister at someone else’s ball, rather than either one here or at Dutton Hall.
This late in the Season there is no need to hold separate balls to acknowledge both occasions.
I was thinking about Lord and Lady Beleward’s annual ball, which is one of the last for the Season.
The Belewards are old ton with deep family roots.
They will not permit the ‘curious,’ shall we say, to torment any of us with unnecessary questions regarding Lady Annalise’s sudden appearance nor of what occurred with Lady Joseph’s cousin. ”
“Has there been movement on Lord Almano’s disposition?” Alexander asked. He had not actually read any of the newsprints in more than a week. Theodora’s body held more interest than the latest on-dits or even news at Parliament.
“Almano is to be deported,” Aaran Graham explained, “as well as many of the forgers and Caroline Moran.”
“How did Caroline Moran escape the gallows?” Alexander asked.
“I cannot speak with any confidence, but likely because she is a woman,” Graham surmised.
“The government is sometimes cognizant of the idea of hanging a woman and its effect on the populace. Men in British society cannot constantly claim that a woman is incapable of making decisions and then turn around and declare said woman is one of the masterminds of such an organized plot to bring down the Bank of England, as was this one by Booth’s followers. ”
“And what of John Yates and Moreau and the others who led this endeavor?” Alexander asked.
Graham continued to speak for the others at the table.
“Honfleur, or Jackson Moran, as we now know him, has not yet been brought before a judge.
Yates was held at Newgate, but his time in jail was short.
He was tried along with Booth and several others.
He will be deported for seven years. Booth was brought to trial before the Honorable Sir Simon le Blanc and found guilty of forgery.
The following day, he was brought to the bar with many of his minor accomplices.
They were all convicted of coining shillings and forging bank notes.
Le Blanc passed the sentence of death upon William Booth.
Amazingly, with remarkable dignity, Booth did not cry out against the sentence, even bowing to the court in a respectful manner.
“At his execution, the fellow showed mettle when he climbed to the stand, where he turned his back upon those who had come to view the deed. At length, the rope was placed about his neck.”
Graham looked to the ladies. “I will stop here, if any of you find this information too distressing. What happened next was not customary.”
“I, for one, am fascinated,” Lady Orson declared.
“There is the bloodthirsty woman I know and love,” Orson declared with a laugh.
His wife playfully swatted Richard’s arm with the back of her hand. “You knew I was curious and stubborn and thankful the rest of the world is crazier than my life, when you accepted my proposal, sir.”
A smile claimed Richard’s lips. “I did, my lady, and I am blessed by your interest in the world. All women should be thus.”
Alexander knew he and Theodora were not yet to the same point as the Orsons, but he hoped to be so soon.
“Continue, Aaran,” Duncan ordered.
“It is not a pretty tale,” Graham warned again.
“The drop was deployed, but the rope slipped from the top of the ‘T.’ Booth fell from the gallows upon the platform and remained motionless for several minutes while the crowd stood stunned. Those from the government attending the execution removed Booth’s rope, and, surprisingly, the man turned to the clergyman and again asked for forgiveness for his ‘supposed’ transgressions.
Booth begged for God’s forgiveness of all his offenses.
“Then the man asked the hangman to secure his hands again and once more he climbed the steps to the platform.
When everything was set a second time, Booth called for the drop himself, but it did not fall on this second attempt either.
Finally, on the third toss of the handkerchief, the drop fell, and Booth died without struggle.
“In my opinion, I have never seen so much dignity carried on the shoulders of any man, though I understand Booth made no formal confession whatsoever. It was almost like watching a repeat of Bellingham’s hanging for killing the Prime Minister.”
“Where are my uncle and cousin housed?” Annalise asked tentatively. “I have purposely avoided reading the newsprints,” she admitted.