Eight Hunting Lyons (The Lyon’s Den Connected World)

Chapter Ten

A Matchmaker Prevaricates

Meanwhile, at the Lyon’s Den, Cleveland Row, Westminster

T he black-clad sentry on duty in front of the Lyon’s Den watched with curiosity as a scruffy young boy made his way down the middle of Cleveland Row.

At times, the boy ran. Then he slowed to a walk for a few steps before once again picking up the pace. From his jerky movements, the guard realized the boy’s shoes were missing their soles. One looked as if it was in danger of falling off.

When the street urchin stopped and pointed at the house, the guard straightened. “You have business here?” he asked.

“Yes, sir. I have a message for Miss… Mrs. Bird Liar?” the boy replied, his confused look suggesting he had forgotten something.

The guard did his best to keep from chuckling at the boy’s expense. “Mrs. Dove-Lyon, do you mean?”

The boy’s eyes widened. “Yes! Do you know her, mister…?”

“Titan is my name,” the guard said as he stepped forward. “And, yes, I know her.” It wasn’t so unusual for street urchins to deliver messages to the gaming hell, but he had never seen this particular boy before. “She’s my employer. What message do you have?”

The boy held up the note. “I’m to give it to her directly, sir. It’s important.”

Now even more curious, Titan knelt down. “How important?”

“The driver gave me a sixpence to see to it. Said the lady wanted it delivered as soon as possible.”

No one ever gave a street urchin a sixpence to see to a delivery. A farthing, surely, but not a sixpence. “Must be important,” he murmured. “Do you trust me to give it to Mrs. Dove-Lyon myself?”

The boy regarded him warily. “I’m not givin’ you the sixpence,” he said, the note clutched in his hand so tightly it wrinkled even more than it had been.

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” Titan replied, attempting to read what he could see of the note. “Mrs. Dove-Lyon sees to my pay. I would hope you would take that sixpence and go to the nearest shoemaker. Get yourself a new pair of shoes,” he added as he used his good hand to cup the top of one of the boy’s worn-out shoes. Despite the pair of socks the urchin wore, a toe was peeking out the front of one shoe.

Glancing down at his feet, the boy sighed. “I was thinking ta use it for some salop or…or a cup of chocolate. I’m hungry. And thirsty.”

“Buy the shoes first,” Titan ordered. “You’ll have enough left for chocolate. Maybe a pasty. Trust me.” He pulled the note from the boy’s hand and read the name written on it. “Who gave this to you?” he asked as he handed it back.

His expression suggesting he wasn’t about to trust the sentry, the boy said, “I told you. A driver for…for Miss Sinclair,” he said with triumph, remembering the name he’d been told by the driver. “I should see ta the delivery myself, sir. Will you let me pass?”

Deciding the boy needed to be inside—it was still chilly despite the sunshine—Titan straightened and opened the door. “Ask for Egeus. He’ll take you to see Mrs. Dove-Lyon.”

“Yes, sir.”

The boy disappeared into the house, and Titan returned to his position near the door, his curiosity piqued now more than before.

The first to pay a call on the Lyon’s Den that morning had been Charles Audley. Titan was sure he recognized the captain from his time on the Continent, and the fact that Captain Audley had recognized him meant he’d guessed correctly.

They had both been involved in the Battle of Waterloo.

Both been wounded.

Both spent time in a field hospital.

Neither of them had come back completely healed.

He flexed his hand once more, wincing at how stiff it had become since the last time he had performed the exercise.

The second to pay a call that morning had been Mrs. Sinclair and presumedly her daughter.

So why would Miss Sinclair, who had taken her leave with her mother only the hour before, send a note with Captain Charles Audley’s name written on it?

Titan now wished he had escorted the boy up to see Mrs. Dove-Lyon. His curiosity would annoy him for the rest of the morning.

Egeus knocked on the door to Bessie Dove-Lyon’s private office, his gaze never leaving the street urchin who stood next to him. The boy couldn’t be more than eight or nine, and from the looks of his clothes and shoes, he was probably an orphan.

“Come,” he heard from the other side of the door.

Opening it only wide enough so he could poke his head around the door, Egeus said, “There’s a boy here with a message, ma’am. Says he’s to give it to you in person.”

Bessie looked up from a ledger book and angled her head. “If he’s bringing blunt, let him in,” she teased.

Egeus looked down at the boy. “Does the message include any money?”

The boy shook his head.

“Just a message, ma’am. From Miss Sinclair.”

Bessie’s eyes widened. “Let him in, Egeus. The sooner he’s back out on the street, the more money he can make holding the reins of horses and such,” she replied on a sigh.

Egeus knew the more likely scenario had him pickpocketing some poor unsuspecting bloke, but hoped the boy was one of the honest caddies who made his farthings by delivering messages for various businesses. The post might work just as well, but it wasn’t as fast as caddies were.

When the urchin stepped into the carpeted office, his gaze didn’t go to the proprietress but rather to all the items that decorated it. His mouth formed an o before his attention settled on the widow. He belatedly bowed. “Honored to meet you, ma’am,” he said as he held out the paper he’d been tasked with delivering.

“What’s your name, young man?”

The boy’s eyes rounded, apparently at being called a young man. “Everyone calls me ‘boy,’ but me mum named me William,” he replied.

“Well, William. I am Mrs. Dove-Lyon, and I understand you have an important message for me.” She glanced down at his shoes. “There’s a shoemaker near the corner of St. James Street and Pall Mall,” she commented as she took the note and attempted to smooth it in her palm. “You’ll go there next.” She held out five farthings. “Tell Mr. Grover I sent you, and he’ll see to it you have shoes appropriate for the winter.”

“Yes, ma’am,” William replied as he opened his palm and watched as she deposited the coins onto it.

Bessie took a moment to read the note and let out a chuckle. “You say this is from Miss Sinclair?”

“That’s what the coachman said, ma’am. He was driving a traveling coach, but it was stopped at a corner.” He dipped his head. “I would have come sooner, but I was holding a horse for a right important person.”

Impressed he hadn’t left his post to make the delivery, Bessie said, “You did the right thing. Now, when was the last time you had anything to eat?” Hearing Egeus’ gasp, she glanced over and arched a brow.

“Yesterday, ma’am.”

“Well, Egeus is going to take you to the kitchens for a quick meal. Then you’re going to the shoemaker.”

“Yes, ma’am,” William said as a smile appeared. The boy’s two front teeth were missing. “Thank you, ma’am.”

Egeus did not appreciate his new assignment, but he led the boy out of Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s office.

Bessie leaned against her desk as she returned her attention to the note.

Apparently, Miss Amy Sinclair knew exactly whom she wished to marry, even before she and her mother had paid a call that morning. Knew, but did not mention the fact whilst in the presence of her mother.

Amy Sinclair had no doubt met the man when they were in the Kingdom of the Netherlands, her acting as a nurse and him an aide de camp to a general.

No, that wasn’t quite right. Charles Audley used a crutch to walk. Something had happened to him during a battle. He had mentioned no woman would wish to marry a cripple.

So, Miss Sinclair was a nurse and Captain Charles Audley was a patient. In the same field hospital in which she worked.

Yes, that had to be it.

Some matches were so easy, it was almost a crime to take the money! But there were debts to settle. Salaries to pay.

About to return to her desk chair, Bessie paused when she considered what had happened that morning.

Did the young lady have any idea that Captain Charles Audley had been there only the hour before?

Such a coincidence!

Or was it?

She hurried out of her office, down the stairs, and out the front door of the house. “Titan,” she called out.

Titan came to attention where he stood near the end of the house. “Yes, Mrs. Dove-Lyon?”

“Was Captain Audley still here when the Sinclairs arrived this morning?”

He shook his head. “No, ma’am. He drove away long before they arrived. On a phaeton. Headed north, I think.”

Bessie crossed her arms when she realized how chilly it was. “Tell me, Titan. What do you know of arm wrestling?”

Titan blinked. “Arm wrestling, ma’am?” he repeated.

“Yes. Do you know of it?”

He inhaled as if he was about to answer and paused. “I’ve seen it done, of course,” he admitted. “Done it a couple of times myself.”

“On a wager?”

Titan finally nodded. “I might have won a pound or two,” he admitted, absently flexing his hand.

“Did you ever…did you ever arm wrestle Captain Audley?”

Giving a start, Titan said, “No, ma’am.”

The air seemed to go out of Bessie in a whoosh. “I don’t suppose you ever met the man whilst you were on the Continent?”

Titan dropped his head a fraction. “I knew of him. I recognized him when he arrived this morning. We were in the same field hospital for a time.” He held up his injured hand, spreading his fingers so they splayed out.

Her query about arm wrestling forgotten in favor of a new one, Bessie motioned for him to join her back in the house. “It’s freezing out here,” she complained.

“It is, ma’am.”

When they were in the entry, she asked, “Was Miss Sinclair your nurse, too?”

Unable to withhold a chuckle, Titan quickly sobered and said, “No one had their own nurse, ma’am. Sometimes they were all different—”

“Was Miss Sinclair a nurse at the time you were in hospital?”

He finally nodded. “I thought I recognized her when I saw her this morning, but she looks… different,” he admitted. “Like a proper lady. I think she might have wrapped my hand a time or two.”

“And Captain Audley? Did she dress his wounds?”

Titan seemed hesitant to answer. “I’m not sure. Our cots weren’t near to each other, and when you’re on your back, you can’t see too far,” he explained.

Bessie seemed disappointed by his answer. “Tell me, Titan. Would there be any way Miss Sinclair and Captain Audley could have…stolen a kiss, or done something improper with one another whilst he was there? Whilst she was on duty?”

Titan once again shook his head. “I don’t see how, ma’am. It was crowded in that tent. Soldiers going in and out all the time. Commanding officers checking on their men. Besides, everyone knew she was Colonel Sinclair’s daughter. If anyone had so much as pinched her bum, the colonel would have had their hide,” he claimed.

“Oh, of course,” Bessie murmured, blinking as she considered this bit of information. “Well, I thank you for your insights. Now, do go to the kitchens and get something hot in you before you go back out there,” she ordered.