Page 35 of To Steal a Lyon’s Heart (The Lyon’s Den Connected World #85)

E vening had set in by the time they reached the Lyon’s Den. When they entered the club, the floor came alive with cheers. And some curses.

Sam just laughed it off, making his way across the gaming floor to the stairs. He could feel her watching, like an owl perched high on a branch, hunting him. Mr. Chase appeared out of the haze of cigar smoke.

“Why am I not surprised to find you here?” Chase said cooly.

“I want to meet with her and discuss alterations to my contract.”

“That wouldn’t be wise.”

Sam shrugged. “Why do you care?”

“I care about the innocent people involved, and I care about honor. I’ve watched many men piss away their fortunes, never once thinking about who they were hurting—mothers, sisters, children. You have a responsibility to protect the people who depend on you. We all make sacrifices.”

“What would you know about honor? You’re no gentleman. You lurk in the shadows and use people for your own ends. Do not lecture me about honor or sacrifice.”

Blakewood came up beside them. “Let’s not do this here.”

Chase turned away. “Follow me.”

They went through a nondescript door, leading away from the boisterous hum of the gambling floor. The change in scene was jarring to the senses. At once they were submerged in a slate blue hall and the style of a proper English house. They came to a sitting room and Chase paused.

“Mr. Blakewood, you will remain here.”

Blakewood opened his mouth to protest but Sam cut him off with a look. He and Amelia had gotten far too comfortable speaking for him.

“Do you think she’ll pull a gun on me?” Sam quipped.

Blakewood raised a brow, and Chase chuckled. “That’s usually my job, but I’m not armed at the moment.”

Chase smirked and Sam followed him down another hall and up a flight of stairs to a door, slightly ajar. Soft, gold light fell through it and a fire could be heard popping in the grate. Chase knocked twice on the door before entering.

Mrs. Dove-Lyon sat in a large, winged back chair, sipping tea. She took note of Sam and gestured for him to sit.

“Well, isn’t this a delightful surprise.”

“You weren’t expecting me?” Sam asked with a sly smile.

“Not this soon, no. But your punctuality only affirms how right you are for my match. A dependable man, astute, emotionally mature despite your youth, physically appealing, intelligent, charming, and overall good. There are too few men like you.”

“Careful, or you’ll make me fall in love with you,” Sam bantered.

Mrs. Dove-Lyon chuckled. “Alas, I don’t care for the challenges of love. Marriage is a business.”

“I disagree. And if it were not for my sister signing for me, I would have never agreed to an arranged match. Even if it meant my death. My father loved my mother. I want what they had even though I never got to see it for myself. My father’s love was evident when he talked about our mother, and he made sure we knew her as best we could even though she was gone.

He cherished her until his last breath, and I want that.

I want to be in love.” Sam swallowed and fought the urge to tug at his collar as his neck grew hot.

Sam glanced behind him where Chase waited by the door. “You aren’t privy to this meeting.”

Chase pointedly looked to his employer.

“Fetch Miss Smith,” Mrs. Dove-Lyon said.

Sam cocked a brow. “Is there a reason for that?”

“We’ll find out, won’t we?”

A chill spread through his belly. Would she be that bold? He couldn’t see more than her chin and the shadow of a bottom lip through her veil, but he felt her gaze, and there was so much anticipation in the thread that tightened between them that Sam started to sweat.

“ You wouldn’t .”

“I hardly think you know me well enough to know the things I would and would not do, Lord Alston. But you have a cunning mind. You anticipate your opponent’s actions to an eerie degree of success. A lesser person might think you were clairvoyant.”

Sam snorted and dropped his head back in disbelief. “This is ridiculous.”

“It wasn’t I who needed proof of your husbandly aptitude. My choice of bride for you is a woman who needs reassurance. She’s suffered. She’s frightened. She had to see for herself what kind of man you were.”

Sam ran a hand through his hair, ruining the sculpted waves of Petrov’s work.

Miss Smith.

Silent as a mouse, shrinking herself down when she was near him. Her voice soft, her manners hesitant. She’d grown more relaxed with Sloan and Chase but not with him, not particularly, and she spoke even less when Daisy was present.

Daisy.

Miss Smith knew all about Daisy, how much time they spent together. Did she suspect there was something between them? Had she informed Mrs. Dove-Lyon? Guilt settled in his gut like a cannonball. He’d had no reason to suspect Miss Smith was anything more than what she was.

“I’m here because I wish to annul the contract,” Sam said gruffly. He cleared his throat. “I won’t be marrying your choice. I’m happy to arrange another agreement to repay your kindness. There isn’t much I won’t do, but I won’t marry a woman I don’t love.”

She scoffed. “That word again. What makes you so sure you wouldn’t come to love her in time? You’ve seen her. She is young and beautiful. You can be patient with her, kind. What else is needed in a marriage but patience and kindness?”

“Forgive me, but I won’t. If it is money, then give me a price. Does she need financial support? She can have it. A position in my household? Done.”

“She needs a husband, Lord Alston. A powerful husband who can protect her.”

The double knock came again, and Sam couldn’t make himself turn and pretend to be surprised at her arrival. Mrs. Dove-Lyon waved to the settee and Sam tensed as she sat, no longer wearing her white apron and cap. She wore a plain blue dress, and she did seem rather different.

He nodded in greeting. She didn’t deserve his spite.

“I present Miss Felicity Brandon, of Winter’s Well. Her father holds the vicarage there.”

Sam closed his eyes for a moment. A vicar’s daughter. He opened his eyes again and smiled tightly.

“How do you do, Miss Brandon?”

“My lord, I understand if you are angry.”

“I’m not angry with you.” He sent his hard glare toward Mrs. Dove-Lyon, then twisted to regard Mr. Chase for his equal part in this farce, but the man appeared stunned.

“You didn’t know?” Sam asked.

He blinked away his stunned expression. “I didn’t need to know.”

“He simply served as protection whilst Miss Brandon traveled to and from the Den.”

“Why her?” Sam asked. “If you intended for me to marry her then I have the right to know.”

Miss Brandon dropped her chin, and her face was shadowed and unreadable.

“You’re dismissed, Mr. Chase.” Once he’d left and closed the door, Mrs. Dove-Lyon turned her attention to Miss Brandon. “Is it all right if I reveal your reasons?” Mrs. Dove-Lyon asked.

Miss Brandon nodded.

“Miss Brandon comes from a small village where her father holds the vicarage, as I said. She was engaged to a man of her parents’ choosing, a man who took advantage of his position to hurt Miss Brandon without remorse or repercussion when she tried to refuse him.”

Sam’s hands balled into fists. “I’m sorry,” Sam said gently. No wonder she cowered when near him. “Your father would not protect you?”

She shook her head, her cheeks reddening. “A woman is to submit. A woman is to be silent and chaste. When he—” She trembled and took a breath before meeting his gaze.

“I’m sorry,” Sam said again.

“No, it’s all right.” She smiled at him weakly. “I know you to be a good man, someone I can trust. It has been a relief to know you. To experience a different view of... well, I don’t know. Life, I suppose.”

“The abuses of her fiancé only ensured that she would be forced to marry him,” Mrs. Dove-Lyon continued. “But she happened to meet a young woman who works for me and Trina brought her here.”

Sam wiped a hand over his face. There was no getting out of this without a bit of skin flayed, but he still could not marry her. Yet he understood why she needed him. He truly wished he could help her in any way—but not marriage.

“Miss Brandon, I empathize with your situation, and if there is anything I can do to help you, you need only ask, but I cannot marry you.”

Mrs. Dove-Lyon exhaled loudly, but Miss Brandon held his gaze.

“I understand, my lord. I do.”

“We have a contract,” Mrs. Dove-Lyon said sternly, “A contract that bears your name. It is a legally binding document.”

“You cannot force me to marry, contract or not. You know this. Sue me, if you must. I’ll pay anything.” He glanced at Miss Brandon, “No offense meant, it is not about you at all but my own desire to marry a woman of my choice. For love.”

“I won’t marry him,” Miss Brandon whispered.

Everyone froze.

“I beg your pardon?” Mrs. Dove-Lyon said and leaned forward in her seat.

Miss Brandon straightened. “Your plan worked. I did come to see Lord Alston as a good and kind man. But I won’t marry him.

I won’t force someone to marry me. I could not bear to put someone in the same position I have been in.

No one should be forced. I signed no contract.

I refuse him and release him from any agreement he made regarding me. ”

Sam wanted to fall back in his chair with relief. Surely Mrs. Dove-Lyon had to relent now.

“Don’t look so relieved, my lord. Miss Brandon is free to depart from this arrangement, but you are not. I require some sort of compensation.”

“If it’s about money—”

“It’s never about money. It’s about principles. They must be upheld. You gave your word, by proxy, but it still holds. Are you a man of your word? What is honor worth if it is not upheld?”

“We can negotiate a new arrangement.”

She cocked her head to the side. “I do have other brides to choose from.”

“No. I’m marrying a woman of my own choosing. Our deal must be satisfied by something else. Is there truly nothing else I can do for you?”

Mrs. Dove-Lyon set her teacup down with a clatter. “You have already chosen, haven’t you? Who is this woman?”

“Miss Blakewood, if I had to guess,” Miss Brandon said when Sam hesitated. “May I go?”

Mrs. Dove-Lyon nodded. “My apologies, Miss Brandon. We will find another candidate. I swear it. My word is infallible, and you can remain here as long as you need.”

Miss Brandon stood and offered Sam her hand. “Thank you. Your household has been very kind. I wish you all the best with Miss Blakewood.”

Sam stood and bowed over her hand. “I’m sorry we had to meet under such circumstances. If you need any assistance from me, please don’t hesitate to ask. You were a great help in my recovery, Miss Brandon.”

“Thank you, my lord.” She slipped past him and out of the parlor. Chase stood near the entry and stepped forward.

“Mr. Chase, come sit. I feel there is a great deal of information I was not made aware of.”

Sam sat. “I don’t need to explain my feelings to you.”

She shook her head. “Not even an apology? I suppose it doesn’t bother a man’s sensibilities to pursue another woman when he is betrothed. What would you have done if Miss Brandon had not refused you?”

“I would have done whatever I had to do. What is it you want?”

“So, you’re planning to marry the young chit. Does she know this?”

“She has agreed.”

She turned her fierce focus to Mr. Chase. “Did you know about this little love affair?”

Chase’s jaw flexed. “I warned him to end it, or I’d reveal it to you. I gave him a chance.”

“Mrs. Dove-Lyon, I am forever grateful that you stepped in to aid my sister and save my life. That truly is a debt that cannot be repaid.”

She folded her arms. “But?”

“I love Miss Blakewood. I will not do something that could harm her or our families’ standing in society—what little is left—or bring danger to them.”

“You’re no fun at all,” Mrs. Dove-Lyon said dryly. “I’m disappointed. I cannot agree to something to replace your debt to me at this moment. I will think of something you could do that will please me. For now, you can go downstairs and ensure Lord Rogers loses substantially tonight.”

Sam stood and nodded. “I await your summons.”

He didn’t wait to be dismissed.