“Indeed. Go on, Mrs. Sinclair. What are your thoughts on Lord Timothy Rydell?”
Sinclair pulled her lower lip between her teeth, looking from Mrs. Dove-Lyon to Elspeth. Her brow furrowed.
Elspeth leaned forward. “Sinclair, what is it?”
Her maid finally took a deep breath. “I thought you knew. That you recognized him. You said you knew the family.”
Elspeth shifted, confused. “I do. The Duke of Embleton’s family. I have met the dowager duchess many times. And I believe I have danced with some of the younger brothers over the years, but I cannot recall meeting Lord Timothy.”
Sinclair grimaced. “But you did. Once. Six years ago.” She paused. “On the dock in Falmouth.”
Recognition flooded Elspeth, and her muscles almost seized as images danced through her mind. She put her fingers to her lips. “Oh, my dear lord.”
Those eyes.
Chapter Five
Sunday, 16 April 1820
Outside the Lyon’s Den
Half past two in the afternoon
“Well. I stillcannot 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.”
