Page 11 of The Blind Lyon (The Lyon’s Den Connected World)

Allan didn’t know what to do with himself.

He had a wife, and one who wasn’t thrilled with the prospect of marrying a second time.

She’d cried through a good portion of the ceremony.

What the hell was supposed to happen now?

Just as he would have led her from the room and upstairs so she could gather her thoughts in quiet, Annette’s parents drew her away from his side.

That was when Ashbury came over to talk with him. “Are you pleased with your ceremony?”

“I suppose? It’s still too new, but I am at sixes and sevens just now, and my new wife is seconds away from coming apart from fear and concern.”

“Understandable, to both things.” The viscount clasped a hand to Allan’s shoulder. “Stay the course, my friend. All will be well.”

“Eventually, I can only hope.” But he needed to talk with Annette alone, before she ran from him, or worse.

“The fact you care about her health is a good sign.” Colin touched Allan’s arm and led him toward one of the windows.

“From my own experience, share the truth of who you are. Share everything, even if it feels as if it’s going to twist your guts up.

She’ll either understand and emphasize or she won’t, but you don’t have to go it alone now.

That is powerful stuff, which is what I also learned. ”

“That’s what terrifies me. I have been alone most of my adult life. After I lost my sight, it was easier that way.” Allan shrugged as he listened to the buzz of conversation from the remaining people in the room. “Do I have the courage to let myself get close to my wife?”

“Only you can decide what the risk is worth.” Out of everyone Allan knew, Ashbury understood; perhaps all his friends did.

It took much trust and courage to move forward after being manipulated into marriage.

“I will leave you with this one piece of advice should you find that you might get on with Annette for more than a congenial friendship.” For long moments, his friend was silent as if searching for the right words.

Then he spoke again. “When—and if—you are intimate with your wife, take her as if it is the first time you have been with her, as well as if it is the last time you will ever be together in that way. Do that with every session you have, for it will make a difference to you both.”

“Do you think me that poorly that I can’t manage to bed my wife properly?”

“Of course not.” The viscount snorted, clearly amused. “Bedding paramours is not intimacy, my friend. It is sex and only that. Once you realize the difference, you will understand the meaning of my words. And it will change… everything.”

“I appreciate the advice.” Then he frowned, for he couldn’t hear Annette’s voice any longer. “Is my wife still in the room?”

“No. Her parents led her out, no doubt to attend the breakfast.” Ashbury dropped his voice. “However, Mrs. Dove-Lyon lingers. I think she wishes to speak with you.”

What sort of gammon was that, then? He hadn’t invited the woman to attend the ceremony. Tamping down on the urge to utter a curse—on his wedding day no less—he huffed. “Take me to her. Is she wearing veils again?”

“She is, with a gown of deep purple. For a woman who wishes to hide her face, she certainly wears bold colors that will garner notice,” Ashbury said, as he guided Allan across the room.

“No doubt it’s a ploy to advertise her services, both at the gaming hell and at matchmaking,” Allan said beneath his breath.

“Ah, Mrs. Dove-Lyon, imagine seeing you here,” the viscount said, and even an idiot could discern the raging sarcasm in his voice as he addressed the woman.

“I am not in the mood to fall for your bait, Ashbury,” she snapped back. “I wished to see if Masterson would go through with his nuptials, that’s all.”

“Obviously, I did.”

“With a bride crying the whole time.” She tsked her tongue. “That doesn’t bode well, does it?”

The comment stabbed through his chest like a hot poker. Another wave of protection welled for his wife. “What happens between Annette and me is our business. You have fulfilled your part in bringing us together, so thank you for that.”

“Remember, Masterson, the marriage needs to last at least three months, else that bit of history you are so ashamed about will come to light.” Her low purr of laughter grated over his nerves. “Now, I have somewhere else to be this morning, so I will bid you goodbye and good luck.”

“God, she’s a scare, isn’t she?” Ashbury said, after the woman had clearly departed.

“I suppose she has the right to be, if most of her matches evolve into love matches like yours, Pennington’s, and Huxley’s.” Was that what he was hoping his marriage would be? Only time would tell. “However, her method and delivery need an overhaul.”

The rustle of fabric gave away the presence of someone else in the room.

“Ah, Lady Masterson, allow me to give my congratulations,” Ashbury said, and the tone of his voice shifted to full-on charm as he left Allan’s side, no doubt to take possession of Annette’s hand.

“Thank you, Lord Ashbury. I was just with your wife but didn’t wish to partake of the breakfast without looking in on His Grace, er… rather, my husband.” The embarrassment in her tone was obvious, at least to his ears.

“Well, since you and he are the only ones left in this room, I’ll make my escape. My wife is rather obsessed with weddings. They make her amorous, and I don’t need her flirting with unsuspecting men who aren’t me.” Humor threaded through his voice. “Masterson, I’ll call on you later this week.”

He appreciated the knowledge about the state of the room, and when he came upon his wife, he took her hand. “How are you feeling?”

“I still wish to hide myself away. It has been too much: the day, the people, the implications.” There was nothing but honesty in her tone. “I have been your wife all of a half hour and already I can’t cope with the expectations.”

“Nonsense. Nuptials can often bring about anxiety and fear.” Now was not the time to admit to his own. Instead, he wanted to set her at ease. “Would it be too much of an inconvenience if I kissed you?” As he spoke, Allan removed his gloves, quickly tucked them away in a pocket of the tailcoat.

“What?” When she attempted to pull her hand from his, he tightened his hold. “You did that yesterday. And besides, we are wed. You don’t need to ask permission.”

He snorted. “Ah, Annette, there is so much you don’t know of the world.

” That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, for it would be his pleasure to teach her.

“It is polite, and I don’t want to assume since I can’t see your face.

” With what he hoped was a wry grin, he shrugged.

“Not being able to read facial clues puts a damper on how I perceive society, as well as how I move through my personal life.”

“Oh.” Slowly, she guided his hand to her cheek. “Go ahead, but afterward, will you please show me to my rooms?”

“I will.” The poor thing was shaking. Was it due to her fear or from his proximity?

“This union can be whatever we want it to be, with room to grow.” As he spoke in low tones so as not to spook her further than she was, Allan glided his fingertips over her face, exploring the plane of her forehead and the curves of her cheeks, finally brushing the pad of his thumb along her plush lower lip.

It was a sensual act, and one that brought him a bit closer to her.

“You are as lovely as you were yesterday.”

“That’s sweet, but—”

He stopped the flow of her words by claiming her lips with his.

When she didn’t hold him off or pull away to run, he tugged her into his arms and then kissed her with more finesse.

Though she was a handful of inches shorter than him, holding her was quite comfortable, and when she pushed up onto her toes briefly, it was even better.

Those full lips of hers cradled his, and the warmth of her was quite tempting, but he refused to rush his fences.

They had only just married. He had no idea what her expectations for their union were, and from the way she cried through the ceremony and admitted with heartfelt emotion that love hurt far too much to court again, he would need to move forward slowly and carefully.

When she laid a palm against his chest, he immediately released her. “That was lovely, and I remember that feeling from the last time I was married.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“No!” The tear-filled exclamation surprised him. “It frightens me to my core, and I don’t know how I can do this.” The sound of sniffling followed her statement.

The temporary high feelings brought on by the kiss tumbled, but he understood.

There was a long road ahead for them both, but it was one he was willing to tread if she were.

“If you will come upstairs with me, I’ll show you into the duchess’s suite.

My housekeeper has assured me that all is in readiness for you. ”

“Thank you.” She slipped her hand through his crooked elbow, and since he’d left his cane in his own suite before the ceremony, they left the room together.

“Your rooms are at the opposite end of the third-floor corridor than mine, but if you should need me at any time, please do come into my rooms. I won’t mind.

” It took next to no time to reach the door to her suite.

“I thought you would feel more comfortable in her own space. Feel free to enjoy it as long as you want.”

Her soft inhalation of breath betrayed her surprise of the duchess apartment. “Good heavens, it’s lovely. The colors of light pink, moss green, and ivory are simply sweet and splendid. This coupled with the ring you gave me… I am so grateful.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” He relaxed at her words. “I’ll leave you alone and make your apologies. However, I need to go down and attend the breakfast and mingle with our guests, but afterward, perhaps we could go on a drive or spend time in the drawing room…”