Rogue Lyon (The Lyon’s Den Connected World)

Chapter One

“I am sorry, Meredith, but we really do find ourselves in somewhat of a pickle.” Mrs. Dove-Lyon, dressed all in black, as usual, shook her head at Meredith Jones from across the polished desk. “I have tried my best, presented you to good men of standing, and it just hasn’t…”

“Worked,” Meredith finished for her as she knotted her hands in her lap.

“And can you explain these failures?”

“I just…” Meredith shrugged. “It’s not that I’m not grateful for your help. It’s just that I…”

“Your mother paid a pretty penny for you to be here in London with me.”

“I know and that weighs heavily on my shoulders. We are not a rich family. Not since my father passed.” Meredith paused to rid the shake from her voice. “But I…”

“Do go on.” Mrs. Dove-Lyon rolled her hand in the air. She wore a black glove with a pearl ring over the top. The candlelight caught the gem in a white flash.

“It’s just that…” Meredith swallowed. She didn’t want to be impolite, but she’d always been told that honesty was the best policy. “It’s just that the Earl of Langsdale, he…”

“Is very rich and quite the musician, I am told.”

“Yes, and that’s wonderful, but he… I’m very sorry, Mrs. Dove-Lyon, and I don’t wish to be disrespectful, but I had no idea if he was even looking at me when he spoke of his love of pie, all pies from rabbit to toad. His left eye went right and his right eye went left.”

Mrs. Dove-Lyon pursed her lips.

“I don’t mean to be unkind, but it was so disconcerting, I found myself tongue-tied and a little confused. And the thought of dining on toad pie, I…” She pulled a face. “Just don’t fancy it.”

“Mmm. I see.”

“And Mr. Baker. He…” Meredith went on.

“The banker, the very successful banker. I do believe his eyes are in perfect synchrony.”

“Oh, yes, they are, Mrs. Dove-Lyon, but he was so old. I mean, he could have been my grandfather and that wart on the end of his nose…” Meredith leaned forward and spoke earnestly.

“It had three long hairs growing out of it. I would have had to pluck them at some point. When he was asleep, maybe, and that would have made him angry, but I just couldn’t have lived with them… or him.”

Mrs. Dove-Lyon steepled her fingers and sighed.

“I suppose I take your point. Maybe not my best matches, but you see my dilemma, Meredith. Your mother funded you for a four-month stay, in which time you were to be betrothed. That four months is well over and there is still nothing on the horizon, absolutely nothing.”

“Perhaps there are other suitors I could meet?”

“You have been through several.” She tapped a thick ledger. “I am out of ideas…out of available men who would be willing to take you as a bride.”

Meredith looked down at her knotted fingers and her jaw tensed.

She didn’t want a man who was willing to take her as a bride without even knowing her.

What was the point in that? She was no beauty.

Plain, that was what her mother had said, but she had a personality.

A little shy, perhaps, and she wasn’t one for inane conversation just to pass the time, but she did have qualities to make up for the fact that she had no dowry.

She took a deep breath and looked up at Mrs. Dove-Lyon. “I hate that I have let you down, and my mother. I have let her down too.”

“You haven’t… Not really.” Mrs. Dove-Lyon shook her head and frowned. “And perhaps returning to Wales won’t be so bad and we will both have to live with the fact that on this rare occasion, I was not successful.”

“Return to Wales! No! For then I will never wed. We live in a small hamlet. There are no single men available. We have very few people pass through. I will be destined to be a spinster. Weaving, embroidery, and caring for the rose garden—that will be my life forever more.”

“And that is not what you want?”

Meredith knew that Mrs. Dove-Lyon had refrained from adding that she’d acted like spinsterhood was very much what she wanted. “No, it is not what I want. My father left enough money for my mother to live out her days in comfort, but not for me. God took him when he was still a young man.”

“And may I commend you for managing on your own, the two of you, for all of those years.”

“Please, let me stay. I can work, here at the Lyon’s Den.”

Mrs. Dove-Lyon raised her eyebrows and sat back in the chair. “That would be most irregular.”

“I’d work for free—well, for room and board. That way, I could stay in London. I might meet someone. Perhaps I am simply here at a time when there is no match for me, but come the winter, I will be more lucky.”

“And what would you do? Work in the kitchen? As a maid?” She shook her head. “No, I don’t think that would be befitting of one of my young ladies.”

“No, not in the kitchen or as a maid. Put me on the floor. Let me work there?”

“In my casino? Front of house?” The widow sat forward and her eyebrows shot up. “Why ever would I do that? I have my men, my special men.”

The special men were all mollies; everyone knew that.

It kept the players’ eyes on the table without distraction.

Meredith took a deep breath. “I can play whist and loo and speculation. My father was a keen and skilled card player. When he got sick, we played together. A lot. He taught me everything he knew. I’m good, very good. I promise you that.”

“Really?”

“Yes, and chess too. That was something he was excellent at, and I am too.” Meredith raised her chin. She wasn’t a boastful person ever, but she recognized that this was a moment she needed to sell herself.

“Chess too, you say.”

“I could teach chess in the private gaming room.” Meredith warmed to her theme. “I’ve heard it’s becoming more popular among the London gentlemen. They will all want to learn from an expert, don’t you think? After all, it is a very refined pastime.”

Mrs. Dove-Lyon nodded. “Indeed, it is.”

Meredith could practically see the cogs of the old widow’s mind whirring.

“Give me a trial in the gaming room, I beg you. You won’t be disappointed.

And chess would be another income stream for you.

Charging for private tuition could be a lucrative little foray.

” She paused. “And isn’t one of your dealers, Peter, in the hospital? ”

“Yes. He is.” She frowned. “Very well.” She held out her finger and pointed at Meredith. “But on the tables first, cards, and if there is one hand out of place, then that’s it… Back to Wales.”

“Thank you. Oh, thank you. I won’t let you down.”

“One other thing.” Mrs. Dove-Lyon continued to point at Meredith’s face. “Rouge, ribbons, beads—we’ve talked about this before. Gentlemen like the ladies looking fancy, not as though they have been dragged through a hedge backward.”

Meredith tapped her brown, curly hair. Dragged through a hedge was somewhat harsh. She had brushed her hair just that morning. “But wouldn’t you rather they weren’t distracted? Maybe I should wear a hat?”

“Indoors? No, that would never do. Go see Nancy. She’ll make sure you are wearing appropriate attire.”

“Nancy. Yes, I’ll do that.” Meredith stood. “Thank you again. I’ll work really hard for you, I promise.”

“Good. Now be off with you. I have letters to read.”

“Yes, of course. Have a good day.”

Meredith slipped from the dark, stuffy office and into the cool of the corridor. She leaned her back on the wall and closed her eyes. What had she let herself in for?

The Lyon’s Den was an establishment dedicated to male excess with gambling, drinking, dancing, and exotic menus. Classy, with gilded walls and smart staff, it was a club that only the wealthy gentry knew about, or at least, they were the only folk permitted entry by the burly door staff.

And now she was going to be working there, on the main floor. Behind a game table, beneath a fancy chandelier, alongside others who had years of experience handling decks for punters and making sure rules weren’t broken.

Her heart thudded and sweat popped on her brow. Perhaps going home to her mother would have been the more sensible option. Why had she gone and opened her mouth? It wasn’t like her to be so spontaneous or forthright. Cool and calculated, that was her nature.

So it just went to show how much she did want to stay in London. It might not be for the original reason, to become a married woman, but it would be for a life less mundane and a job that paid her with shelter and a full stomach.

That would do.

Sometimes in life, it was wise to be grateful.

“Meredith, are you well?”

She opened her eyes. “Nancy, I was just about to come find you.”

“Well, now you’ve found me.” Nancy smiled. She was tall and willowy with pale-gray eyes and wispy, strawberry-blonde hair. Her lips were always painted with red pomade. She frowned, creasing her perfectly smooth brow. “Have you just come from Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s office?”

“Yes.”

“Has she found another match for you?”

“No, sadly, that endeavor has come to an end.”

“Oh, no.” Nancy reached for her hand and squeezed. “Does that mean you have to return home?”

“No, we have come to an arrangement so that I can stay.”

Nancy’s frown deepened. “You have…? I mean, that’s wonderful. What is the arrangement, though?”

“I am to work.” Meredith gestured in the direction of the casino. “In there, at a table.”

Nancy’s eyes widened. “But…I mean…can you? It’s not easy!”

“Yes, I will not have a problem with the work.”

“Why, you dark horse, you.” Nancy laughed. “Bethany always says to watch the quiet ones.”

Meredith laughed. “Perhaps that is true. But my father, he taught me many parlor room games, including all the card games.”

“Good to hear.” Nancy tapped her chin with her index finger and studied Meredith. “And what are you going to wear? That neckline covers even your throat. Mrs. Dove-Lyon will not like that attire for her exclusive club.”

“I know and I…”

“Need help.” Nancy linked her arm with Meredith’s. “Of course you do. Come on, I know just the thing and it’s hanging in my wardrobe.”