Don’t Wake a Sleeping Lyon (The Lyon’s Den Connected)
Prologue
London, 1817
“Y ou owe my father!” Ada crossed her arms. She knew no one usually spoke in such a manner to Mrs. Bessie Dove-Lyon, but Ada had nothing left to lose. “He put you on the map, Aunt Bessie. Without his imports, you wouldn’t—”
“I’m not your Aunt Bessie. Don’t call me that,” she snapped. “It’s a name for a poodle. And I put myself on the map.”
Aunt Bessie—known as The Black Widow of Whitehall to the rest of the world—sat down and poured herself a cup of hot chocolate. Without Ada’s father Aunt Bessie’s preferred drink wouldn’t have been of such fine quality. He didn’t only import liquor, but also cocoa, coffee, and medicines.
As Ada took in the widow’s private room, filled with elegant upholstery, intricate wood carvings, and crystal chandeliers, she wondered what else her father had imported to see to Aunt Bessie’s comfort. And when would the cocoa run out as Ada’s luck already had?
Ada picked at her worn gown and admired Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s fine sarsenet attire embroidered with real gold thread. Dressed in her typical black with gold brocade on the sleeves and at the hem, Mrs. Dove-Lyon occupied her chair with the poise that suited her reputation as London’s underground queen. Despite Ada’s lack of enthusiasm for the opulence at The Lyon’s Den, the city’s most exclusive gambling establishment where peculiar games and bets fueled the gossip columns of high society, she couldn’t ignore the fact that she—in contrast—had nothing to her name.
She could not shake off the overwhelming despair that clawed at her heartstrings. She had always known that life as an orphan would be difficult, but she never imagined it would be so cruel. All she yearned for was stability and security, a place to call home. And then she thought of her gift—her talent for gambling. The idea of bluffing her way to riches was tempting, but did she dare to bluff her way through life? Perhaps this was her chance to turn her fortunes around, to escape the miseries of her mundane existence, and to enter the world of the rich and famous. She took a deep breath and resolved that she wouldn’t leave this elegant room without trying her luck.
“Let me be your puffer!” Ada pleaded; the position would allow her to gamble with money that wasn’t hers and decoy other players. She needed the money and knew the games were rigged, so there was no point in feigning outrage. Plus, she wasn’t going anywhere without permission to play the tables at The Lyon’s Den.
The gray-haired woman sighed. “I’m sorry that you are down on your luck, but you are getting entangled with people who have no scruples, they’re—”
“No different from most of the people I have encountered in my life,” Ada said. Aunt Bessie knew very well that Ada had played with smugglers on her father’s ships. She’d grown up gambling with cheaters and criminals. There wasn’t a trick Ada didn’t recognize and know how to foil. “Please, Aunt Bessie.”
“I’m not your aunt, and you know it.”
“But Papa called you Aunt Bessie.”
“Your papa, Ada, was a fine businessman. I knew him when he was a boy, and I knew him when he had you.” The elderly lady let out a hearty breath and her veil flew in a wave around her head. “Life didn’t give him a choice but to work in the shadows; still he was honest and had a good heart, like you.” She lifted her hand as if she wanted to reach for Ada’s, but then decided otherwise. “He was one of the few people I could trust.”
“Then trust me, too!”
“Ada, please be reasonable. You are a girl, not a puffer. You can’t be that good a gambler—”
“I am! Please let me play! I can look after myself.”
Aunt Bessie took a sip of her hot chocolate and swallowed it with gusto, forcing Ada to wait. Then she rubbed her eyes.
“All right, I’m too tired to fight you, and I know you won’t stop asking me. This might destroy you, but if it is your wish, you can play rouge et noir . Nothing else.”
Yes! Ada suppressed a triumphant grin. “It is my wish.”
“And pay me twenty percent interest in your wins for the night. You are gambling with my money, after all.”
“Ten!”
“Fifteen!”
“All right.” Ada clapped her hands excitedly as her heart swelled with renewed hope and purpose. Despite the social constraints she faced as a Jewish girl without a father or a husband, Ada was determined to take charge of her own destiny. She refused to let the limitations life had thrown her way hold her back any longer. Instead, she was going to quadruple what Aunt Bessie would give her and keep eighty-five percent of it. With a little luck and a few wealthy players, she’d have enough to get away from the people who were using her as little more than a free servant. Because the terms of her father’s will stated that she couldn’t access her inheritance until she’d reached the age of twenty-five—or she’d gotten married. So until then—if she wanted her freedom—she had to pay her way in life.