Chapter Five
Outside the Lyon’s Den
Half past two in the afternoon
“Well. I still cannot believe you convinced me to do this.”
Luke chuckled. “And I was supposed to know Mrs. Dove-Lyon would choose the one woman in London you are too embarrassed to meet? I would suggest that it is kismet, if I believed in such things.”
“So you think the hand of fate pushed me overboard six years ago?”
“No, that would be you being a clod. Was your reputation not more of a lothario than a farm lad who did not know his own feet? I thought the ladies flocked to you like sheep to the shearing. I heard that more than a few expressed their disappointment that you boarded that ship.”
Timothy shrugged one shoulder, his gaze on the busy entrance to the Lyon’s Den. “I have more skill with women when neither of us is expected to speak.” He gestured at the blue building. “This will involve actual conversation.”
“And not something you can avoid, since you signed a contract, and not something you can prepare yourself for by standing on the pavement staring at the windows. Let us go in and get it over with. If she rejects you because of the way you look with seaweed hanging off your your ears, then it was never meant to be. Your appointment is at three, correct?” Timothy nodded, and Luke held his arm wide. “Lead the way.”
Timothy stepped off, grumbling. “There was no seaweed.”
“Fish guts?”
“No. You are not helping.”
“Just trying to imagine what she saw that day.”
“You may wait outside.”
“Not on your life.” Luke reached for the handle on the door.
Inside the main entrance, a dark, rugged-looking man met them with a curt nod, introducing himself as Titan, head of the Lyon’s Den security. “Please leave your hats with the cloakroom attendant, then come with me. You will wait in the gentlemen’s lounge until they are ready for you.”
Timothy stopped short. “‘They’?”
Luke nudged him into motion.
Titan led the way, glancing over his shoulder at Timothy. “Mrs. Dove-Lyon oversees the interviews, although she does not participate. And I believe Lady Elspeth’s maid accompanied her as chaperone. Is your friend going into the interview or waiting here?”
Timothy opened his mouth to respond but never got the chance.
“I am his brother. I am going in with him.”
Timothy snarled. “Then do not speak.”
Luke held up one hand. “I would not dare.”
Titan looked from Luke to Timothy. He did not appear amused. “It will be a few moments. Please prepare your questions. I will retrieve you when they are ready.” He then did a precise about-face pivot and left the room.
A spike of alarm shot through Timothy. “Questions? What questions?” He looked at Luke. “Do you remember her saying anything about questions yesterday? I thought the lady was supposed to be interviewing me.”
Luke put a hand on his forearm. “Relax. Your questions will grow out of what she asks you. Think of it as a conversation. You have talked to women many times before.”
“Yes. Well. None of them were Lady Elspeth Westridge.”
Luke’s sense of humor dissipated. “Tell me what is so special about this woman, other than she’s seen you drenched by the waters of the Fal Estuary. Even according to you, your encounter lasted less than ten minutes.”
Timothy looked down at his hands, annoyed that they felt cold and a bit trembly. He then sat heavily in the closest armchair, clutching his hands between his legs. “I am . . . I am not entirely sure. It may be that she was . . . is . . . Ella’s best friend.”
Luke sat in a nearby chair, stretching out his left leg, his voice low. “Please do not tell me you desire Gordon’s wife.”
Timothy looked up, surprised. “No!” He shook his head.
“No. Ella is a unique and delightful woman, and Gordon is lucky to have been reunited with her. Their marriage is to be admired but not envied. It is more that she is proof that women like her truly exist. Fiery and intelligent, who do not truckle to every whim of Society.”
“You must have met many such women in America.”
Timothy gave a long sigh. “I did, but most shared one thing with most of the debutantes I met here. They wish to stay home.”
Luke scowled. “Most women are raised to run a household, no matter what their status.”
“Precisely. Few are interested in hopping a boat for parts unknown.”
Luke studied him a moment. “Do you think you will ever want to stay home, run your businesses from behind a desk.”
“Gordon has asked me the same thing a half dozen times. The answer is always no.”
“Gentlemen?”
Titan stood in the door of the lounge motioning for them to join him.
They followed him through the gentlemen’s smoking room and briefly onto the main floor, which was a riot of voices, the rattle and knocks of the tables, and the music from the gallery at the far end.
They entered Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s office, and Titan left, the closed door rendering a semblance of quiet.
Timothy stopped near Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s desk, surveying the room.
The two cabriolet armchairs in front of her desk had been shifted to face each other.
Lady Elspeth sat in the one farthest from the door, peering up at him, her hands clutched together in her lap.
Her emerald eyes shone beneath the reddish-brown lashes, and random strands of her red curls trailed from beneath her bonnet.
Thinner and a bit paler than he remembered, but still so lovely.
His breath caught as he focused on her, his words tumbling out before he could stop them.
“You are as beautiful as I remember.”
“Oh, my.”
The words came from behind Lady Elspeth, and Timothy looked beyond her to a woman sitting against the far wall. She wore all black with a white collar, the uniform of a lady’s maid. He blinked, returning his gaze to Lady Elspeth, whose face had turned a radiant crimson.
Mrs. Dove-Lyon cleared her throat and pointed at the other armchair.
“Lord Timothy, please sit.” She glanced at his brother.
“Lord Luke, please sit there.” She pointed at a chair against the wall behind Timothy.
As Luke settled, she sipped from a teacup near her right hand, then went on.
“As discussed yesterday, this is one of three interviews Lady Elspeth is conducting today. At the end of the day, she will choose two gentlemen to participate in a series of tasks, which will be conducted tomorrow morning, beginning at ten. All parties, including those present, have contracted to and agreed upon the terms of this process. Do you have any questions or objections about the process at this point?”
Luke cleared his throat, but Mrs. Dove-Lyon held up her hand, palm facing him. “I was only addressing Lord Timothy. You are not allowed. You are here to observe only. You, of course, may discuss anything with your brother later.”
Luke shifted in his chair, and Timothy knew it galled his brother to be silenced. Timothy, however, found it amusing. “I have no objections,” he said.
Mrs. Dove-Lyon lowered her hand and nodded. “Lady Elspeth, you may begin.”
Lady Elspeth straightened a bit in her chair, and for the first time, Timothy noticed the fine lines around her eyes, the downward tug of her mouth.
She is exhausted. What had happened to her, what had forced her to take this path? To seek out this woman? He knew of her impending but dreaded betrothal, but was that all there was to it? He knew many women who married men not of their choosing at the behest of their families.
“Lord Timothy, I know you have traveled a great deal. Do you plan to travel more in the future?”
This was the question he had anticipated, and not only because everyone he had met since docking at Falmouth had asked the same thing. His mother, especially, had wanted him to say no. But in all honesty, he could not.
“I do. I am in business with my cousin Gordon, and we have expanded into the southern part of the United States and Asia. We are hoping to continue that pattern.”
Lady Elspeth remained still, but he noticed that her maid scribbled on a piece of foolscap braced on top of a book. Lady Elspeth shifted her reticule a bare inch. “Do you enjoy traveling to so many different places?”
“Without a doubt. It has changed my outlook in many ways.”
“How so?”
Timothy glanced at Luke, who nodded his encouragement.
“I do not mean this as disrespectful in any way, but living solely among London’s elite kept my view of the world very narrow.
I had no idea how people in other countries lived, worked, ate .
. . even in the United States life has become rather different.
Here in London we tend to think—or at least I did—that we are somehow better than everyone else.
The truth is that we are not. We are just . . . we have more money.”
“Does not having money mean that we are, in fact, better? That we are blessed by God?”
Luke snorted, and Mrs. Dove-Lyon tapped one finger on her desk.
Timothy looked at the three of them. “I may not have the correct words for this. I am . . . not a scholar. I do not believe evil people are blessed by God, no matter how wealthy they are. Wealth can make you comfortable, but it cannot make you good or happy. I know some people equate having money with being successful, but all it took was one trip to Hong Kong for me to see there are many roads to success. I also now believe that God is not the only one who blesses.”
“Is that blasphemy?”
Timothy took a deep breath. “Perhaps. But I do not believe God condemns people because they are poor or curses them because they were born in the Rookeries.”
Lady Elspeth paused, studying him a moment. “What is the most exotic place you have been to?”
“Probably Hong Kong. Thrilling, although not my favorite place.”
“Why not?”
“The food did not agree with me.”
Lady Elspeth gave a low laugh, covering her mouth with one gloved hand. She sniffed as she sobered, then asked. “Would you be willing to take your wife on your travels?”