Page 2 of The Lyon’s Love Letters (The Lyon’s Den Connected World #78)

A nna knocked urgently on the door to Hatchford Hall again. It was taking an unusually long time for one of the servants to answer. She’d just raised a hand again when the door opened.

“Oh! Good day to you, Evans.” She rushed on. “I know I have arrived unannounced. Very bad manners. But I really must see Mrs. Rhodes, right away.”

The butler did not move to open the door wider. “Good day, Lady Anna. I am sorry, but Mr. and Mrs. Rhodes are not at home.”

“Oh! Have they gone into the village, then?” She paused. “Perhaps I could await their return?”

The servant looked uncomfortable. “No, my lady. I’m sorry. The squire and Mrs. Rhodes have traveled north.”

He hesitated, and she thought he might not say anything more. Her head dropped.

Evans relented. Stepping outside, he pulled the door nearly closed behind him. “They had a letter from Master Henry,” he said, his tone low.

“Oh!” Henry Rhodes was the son who had eloped with her companion, the former Miss Godfrey.

It was a relationship that had taken everyone by surprise, and one that Anna still did not quite understand, but Miss Godfrey had been alight with pleasure, excitement, and love when Anna found her packing one evening, several weeks ago. She had glowed while describing how, despite her being several years older, she and Harry had bonded over birding and their shared interest in innovative farming techniques. And then she had gone, leaving Anna alone.

She’d thought that it had been the worst that could happen, following on the heels of her father’s death, but then had come the day that Anna rummaged in her father’s desk, looking for the name of the agency from which he’d hired Miss Godfrey, and her terrible discovery.

And then had come today.

“Master Henry wrote from Derbyshire. He and Miss—” Evans paused to clear his throat. “He and his new wife have found a farm to purchase there. The squire and Mrs. Rhodes have gone to…negotiate with the pair of them.”

“Oh, yes. Of course.” Mrs. Rhodes would not be happy with the thought of her youngest living so far away. “I… Well, I will visit when they return, then.”

“I would invite you in for tea, Lady Anna, but with Master Robert being the only Rhodes in residence, it might not be quite the thing.”

“Yes, of course. Thank you, Evans.”

The butler nodded. “Good day, my lady.”

Anna turned away, her mind churning. The afternoon sun felt unseasonably warm—or perhaps it was just the panic running in her veins. She abruptly stopped. Afternoon…

She started forward again and hurried into the village. Once there, she slowed her pace and nodded serenely to those she passed. She didn’t pause to speak with anyone, but went straight to the vicarage and rapped upon the door.

Again, she waited, until she was forced to rap again.

“Yes, yes! I’m coming!” The door opened. The short, thin woman inside glared at her. “Lady Anna,” she said, her disapproval clear. “What is it, then?”

“May I come in, Mrs. Crombie? I need to speak with Reverend Brandage.”

The woman gave a huff. “He’s not here. He’s gone to offer comfort to Mrs. Jones.”

Anna had often thought that a vicar’s housekeeper should be warm and comforting. A bit round, perhaps, padded with the effects of her good, nourishing cooking. Instead, Mrs. Crombie was sour and inhospitable and her scones were rumored to be as hard as rocks. It was no wonder the vicar could descend into morose judgment of his flock.

“Could you not have waited until this afternoon?” the woman asked with exasperation. “He’s meant to come to you for his tea.”

“Yes, well. Perhaps we might best postpone that visit,” Anna said. “We have had a surprise out at Martin’s Nest. My cousin has arrived. Perhaps we should let him settle in before Reverend Brundage stops by.”

“He’ll likely head straight out there from the Jones’s farm.” The tiny woman narrowed her dark eyes. “Never say your wild cousin has arrived all on his own—and you with no chaperone?”

“Well, no,” Anna admitted. “But that is what I wished to discuss with the vicar. Perhaps he might help me find a place—”

“Find a place?” Mrs. Crombie’s gaze widened. “He’s showed up with a load of his gin-addled friends, hasn’t he? That wicked cousin of yours?” She took Anna’s silence for confirmation. “Well, now you will be wishing you had listened to the good vicar’s advice, won’t you? All that claptrap talk of Bath.”

“I thought perhaps the vicar could help—”

Mrs. Crombie edged the door an inch further closed. “You cannot stay here! The vicar’s a single man!”

“Yes, I know. I thought perhaps he might speak to one of the ladies in the parish on my behalf—”

“Hmmph,” the woman snorted. “Willful and obstinate until you find yourself in trouble, and now you mean to thrust yourself onto some proper household like—”

“Never mind, Mrs. Crombie.” It was Anna’s turn to interrupt. She thrust her chin high. “Just tell Reverend Brandage that I depart for Bath today. And be sure to give him my best.”

She spun around and stalked away. Tears threatened, but she fiercely held them at bay. She would leave for Bath today. She knew where the household money was kept. She would take the little bit of jewelry she possessed. Surely it would be enough to get her there and allow her to live until she found employment? She might yet win that position at Bardwell’s school. Or there might be other schools there. At the very least, she could hire out as a companion.

She drew a shuddering breath. The odds were against her. There was no denying it. But anything was better than staying here and falling in with her cousin’s plans to ruin her. She would go home, gather her things, and—

“Lady Anna Parbury?”

She spun around. She’d just left the village and thought herself alone on the wooded road that led out toward Hatchford Hall and Martin’s Nest.

“Lady Anna?” the woman behind her asked again. She wore a simple dress and a bonnet that shaded most of her face.

“Yes?”

“This way, please.” The woman turned back in the direction of the village.

“I’m sorry? Who are you?”

The woman looked back over her shoulder. “You are in need of help, are you not?”

“I…” Anna’s shoulders drooped. “Well, yes.”

“Then come. Someone wants a word with you. She should be able to help.”

Anna hesitated, but as the woman was headed toward the village instead of away from it, she decided to take the risk. At this point she needed all the help she could get.

Anna followed the woman as she went past the first few cottages and took the first lane to the right that led toward the schoolhouse. A carriage sat parked there, tucked away far enough from the main street so as not to be easily spotted. The woman stopped next to it, opened the door, and gestured for Anna to climb inside.

Keeping well out of reach, Anna moved abreast of the open door and peered inside.

Blinking, she shook her head and looked again.

A veiled woman sat inside. She beckoned. “Come, Lady Anna. We have much to discuss.”

Anna took a step back. “What is this? Who are you?”

“I am Mrs. Dove-Lyon. I have a proposal for you. I only wish to discuss it.” The woman tilted her head. “This is not an abduction. The carriage will not move. I give you my solemn word.”

Still, Anna hesitated.

The woman sighed. “You are in a bind. So am I. Let us help each other.”

Anna looked to the first woman, who gave her a nod.

“Leave the carriage door open, Hermia,” said Mrs. Dove-Lyon. “Thank you.”

The first woman stepped away toward the front of the carriage.

Despite the alarm bells ringing in her head, Anna knew she did indeed need help, and she also wanted to hear what the veiled woman had to say. Drawing a deep breath, she climbed inside and took the seat opposite the woman.

“Thank you for trusting me,” Mrs. Dove-Lyon said. “I know it must not have been easy. Especially after today.”

“How do you know of my troubles?” Anna asked. “How do you know of me at all?”

“I made it my business to know you, Lady Anna, because your father made it his business to know mine.”

Anna flushed.

“I see you know what I mean.” Flat disapproval sounded in the woman’s tone. “You were aware of his…activities, then?”

“No!” Anna objected. “I did not know. Not until after he died.” She sighed. “We were not particularly close. I saw my father only twice a year, at most. But after his death I had a need to find something in his desk—and it was then that I realized I never really knew him at all.”

“You will forgive my saying so, my dear, but you are better off for not knowing him better. A blackmailer who smiles and flatters his way through his threats is no less a villain.”

Anna stared, fascinated. She wished she could see through the veil. “I am sorry. I gather you were one of his victims?”

“Yes, but not exactly. It was not me he threatened, but someone I love very dearly.” The veiled woman paused. “Tell me, Lady Anna, have you seen the materials your father kept? The ones he used to extort money from others?”

Anna shook her head, her eyes fastened on her twisting fingers. “No. Not really. Not most of them. I found the files in a drawer in his desk, not long after he was killed. They were quite organized. Like any other business documents. So much so that it took me a couple of examples to understand what they were.” Just the memory of the shock she’d felt sent a shiver through her. “Once I understood, I could not bear to look at any more.” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “There were a shocking number of them.”

Mrs. Dove-Lyon learned forward. “Then you have not seen my letters?”

Anna looked up. “Oh, no! Whatever your secrets are, they are safe from me.”

“Oh, but they are not safe , are they, Lady Anna? From what you said, they are in Martin’s Nest. The very house where your cousin is settling in right now.”

Anna’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh! I had not even considered. I had not thought! Thomas should not be allowed to access all of those secrets!”

“And now you understand why I have left London to come to this forsaken stretch of Hampshire.” Mrs. Dove-Lyon cleared her throat. “I did try to get my letters back, you understand. Your father was so very careful about the security of his house in Mayfair. I felt sure that he must have kept his materials there. Several of my attempts were thwarted, but I used the confusion following his accident to get a man inside. Only to hear that he could find nothing! It followed, then, that the files must be here.” The woman sat back. “Your father was a smiling rogue, though I trusted him to keep my secrets, as long as I met his occasional demands. But your cousin is another matter entirely.”

“There is no telling what he would do with that sort of information.”

“Oh, I am aware of what he would do. What he could do. My loved one has only just found true happiness. He could ruin it with a word. Ruin her reputation, her relationships, her very identity.” A pause. “Tell me, have you never heard of me?”

The question caught Anna by surprise. “Ah, no. Should I have?”

“I suppose not, if you have spent your life here.” The veiled woman glanced out the window before looking back. “Allow me to enlighten you. I own and operate the most exclusive gambling den in London. There is no finer establishment. The games, the food, the wine—and the guests—are all the top tier of London’s offerings. Above and beyond all that, I am the most accomplished matchmaker Society has ever known.”

“Goodness,” Anna breathed.

“Both of those callings mean that I am aware of nearly everyone and everything in London, amongst the peerage and beyond. I am well aware of what your cousin is, and what he might do. I would have gone after your father’s files in any case, but the fact that your cousin is involved has moved me to handle this myself.” Mrs. Dove-Lyon leaned forward. “I paid your father’s blackmail. I have done a good deal more to protect the safety of the loved one he threatened. I will happily do a great deal more—and a great deal worse. But upon learning of your plight, Lady Anna, I thought we might help each other instead.”

Anna merely held her breath.

“Here is what I propose. You will get my letters back for me—before your odious cousin gets his hands on them. And in return, when I have them in hand, I will grant you a favor that would normally cost you a great deal of money. I will find you a match.”

Anna released her breath in a whoosh. “I will, of course, be happy to rescue your letters and return them to you. In fact, I will go straightaway and remove all of those files, to be sure Thomas cannot exploit them.”

Mrs. Dove-Lyon nodded.

“I do thank you for your offer,” Anna continued, “but it won’t be necessary for you to find me a match.”

The woman’s chin rose. “Perhaps you don’t understand. I mean to find you a husband. ”

“I understood. It is just not necessary. Although the offer is appreciated.”

“Have I missed something, then? Have you a beau already?”

“No.” Anna blushed.

“Then you will need a husband,” Mrs. Dove-Lyon said definitively. “You are a lady. The daughter of an earl. What else is there for you?”

Anna drew a breath and squared her shoulders. “Independence.”

The woman huffed out a laugh. “An illusion for most women.”

“Oh!” Anna straightened. “But that is perhaps how you can do me a service!”

“I am a matchmaker,” the woman replied stiffly. “That is the service I have offered.”

“And any other girl would likely jump at it,” Anna said kindly.

“You have no idea,” Mrs. Dove-Lyon asserted. “I can match the most difficult cases. Girls who have no money or who have blotted their copybooks. Poor, fast, lacking bloodlines or charm—I can find them all a decent husband.”

Anna nearly felt the weight of the woman’s gaze run over her.

“You have no social experience and are rumored to be bookish,” Mrs. Dove-Lyon mused. “But still, I can do right by you.”

Anna drew a breath. “You are correct about one thing. I have no social experience, especially with men. I have spent my life here, largely alone except for servants. There are no men of rank about here. None that Society would approve of as my husband and none that have tempted me not to care.” She raised a brow. “You have clearly researched my circumstances. Will you have heard of my inheritance?”

“You are said to come with a substantial dowry.”

“Not a dowry,” Anna corrected her. “That is not how it was worded in my father’s will. It is a large sum of money, indeed, that will come to me when I am five and twenty. Whether I am married or not.”

“But it will become your husband’s money,” Mrs. Dove-Lyon said with a shrug. “And so it amounts to the same thing.”

“And that is exactly why I do not wish to take a husband. At least, not until after I receive my inheritance and unless I find a man willing to allow me to retain control of it—as part of the marriage settlements.”

“Such a man does not exist,” Mrs. Dove-Lyon said.

“Then I am better off on my own.” Anna stared at the other woman, wishing she could meet her gaze directly. “As a widow, you occupy a unique position of independence. You own and run your business. You think and move and go as you please. Do you not think other women would find that sort of freedom appealing?”

“Most do not. Many find the idea frightening or unfeminine.”

“I do wish for that same sort of freedom. And I have the means to achieve it. But my cousin means to see me ruined and forced into a marriage—likely for a cut of the money.” She sneered. “And I doubt he has bothered to tell his friends that they will all have to wait four years to see any payment.”

The veiled woman stilled. “Lady Anna, what would happen to your inheritance if something happened to you? If you fell ill and died, for example?”

A great shiver went up Anna’s spine. “I…I don’t know.”

“If you were unmarried, I suspect the balance would transfer to your cousin.”

“You don’t think he means to…” The words trailed away, but the truth of it chilled her soul.

“If you were married when it happened, then I suppose there would be no need to wait for the balance to be given to your husband.”

“They will never leave me alone,” Anna whispered. “They will never give up.”

“No,” the veiled woman said. “It is unacceptable. We will not let that happen.”

Tears welled, but so did gratitude. “Thank you.” Anna’s mind was racing. “What I need, then, is somewhere to hide.”

“For four years?”

“Yes. I had thought to take a teaching position in Bath. I left word for the vicar that I would be setting out today. But now, I cannot keep to that. They would track me there.”

“Easily, and probably quickly.”

“A different spot would be better. A new identity. A position in which I could be useful and earn my keep until I can collect my inheritance. That is what you can help me find, in exchange for your letters.”

“I still say a husband would be better.” Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s voice had softened. “There are some good ones out there, you know.”

Anna nodded. “It is reassuring that you say so. I would appreciate the chance to find out that you are right.”

“That much I can give you, Lady Anna. We are agreed, then?”

“We are.”

“Then let’s get you home so that you can fetch those letters and get away. Right away.”