Bess Dove-Lyon watchedas the earl and marquess left the Lyon’s Den. She absent-mindedly twisted the gold cuff on her wrist as she thought about her two new clients. Finding a suitable husband for Felicia’s lovely granddaughter presented a challenge. The girl reminded Bess of her younger self, believing herself to be in charge of her fate. Life had taught Bess that it was rarely the case. Edwina was untamed and independent and had no interest in marrying, but she’d supplied a few keys to the treasure trove of her affections.
The earl was another conundrum. He was a dashing man without means. Although he had expressed his readiness to marry for the benefit of his earldom, it was a duty he expected to perform without affection. It was unlikely the two would find a deep connection, but she’d seen love blossom in the most unexpected places before, and perhaps it could happen again.
Titan joined Bess and whispered in her ear. “Well done, madam.”
She smiled coyly at him. “Whatever do you mean, Titan?”
“Why, instructing me to escort the earl to your quarters early so the two might accidentally meet.”
“Yes, about that. Titan, you naughty man. You must never do thatagain. You know that I pride myself on my clients having complete anonymity.”
“Yes, m’lady,” he said with a grin.
She greatly admired Titan for his unwavering loyalty and devotion, and that was without factoring in his commanding presence or gorgeous countenance. If she ever considered taking a lover, it would be him, but mixing business with pleasure was wrong and would lead to complications. However, there were times when his lingering gaze unsettled her, but that was not something to be addressed today. Perhaps tonight, when she was alone in her bedroom suite, she’d sink into a bath and indulge in naughty thoughts.
“Titan, see that Sir Hammond’s wine glass is refreshed. I believe his luck is about to run out.”
Titan nodded and walked away to fulfill her request. For a moment, Bess’s gaze remained on him as he walked away.The man is an Adonis,she thought, sighing.
Chapter Nine
Mayfair
London
The bell chimedas Winnie stepped out of Madame Gris’s atelier. She’d sifted through many fabrics and patterns, patiently had her measurements taken, and happily left the minute details to the creativity of the talented modiste. She then hurriedly concluded her business and stepped out of the shop, anxious to be on her way. She’d freed Charles, her cousin, from his boring duty of escorting and protecting her. She and Charles had been friends since childhood, and she felt guilty that he’d been coerced into babysitting her. With a kiss on the cheek, she’d dispatched him off to more pleasant activities, promising to meet him for tea at Brown’s at four. Before he left, she’d patted his hand. “Enjoy your day, Cousin. I grant you freedom from my overbearing grandmama.”
Charles’s boisterous laughter had accompanied his kiss on her cheek. “Please do not invite any trouble. Auntie will tan my hide if anything happens to you.”
“I will do my best not to bring the wrath of Medusa on you.”
Winnie, with her unwavering determination to help the orphans, carried a carpetbag and hailed a hansom cab directing the driver toBloomsbury in London’s West End. The trip to London had been foisted on her so suddenly that she could not deliver the funds she’d fleeced off her wealthy targets to the St. Albans children’s hospital. The orphanage for girls was her pet project and the primary beneficiary of her largesse.
Charles, Grandmama, and Winnie had left Middlesex for London the day after her grandmother’s pronouncement to “pack your bags.” The reason for this sudden departure was Felicia’s grand scheme of matrimony, which Winnie had vehemently protested. She was forced to abide by Grandmama’s wishes, which included attending Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s ridiculous dinner party and ordering new gowns. Now that she’d agreed to these terms, she felt it was time to do what she’d dedicated her life to—helping those less fortunate than her.
Winnie had procrastinated long enough and was determined to deliver the money to the Foundling Hospital. The dressmaking appointment was the perfect opportunity for subterfuge, and she took advantage of the few hours of unsupervised freedom from her grandmother to do just that. She could not travel to Middlesex and return in time, so she planned to instruct the Foundling Hospital in Bloomsbury to deliver the funds to St. Albans, as the two charities often collaborated. At least her day would not be a complete waste.
Lex had resignedhimself to the cold, hard truth that finding the red-headed beauty was like searching for a needle in a haystack. He’d made a few discreet inquiries at a few of the better hotels and walked the streets of Mayfair hoping to catch a glimpse of her in one of the shops. But he’d felt like a silly schoolboy and decided to get a few rounds in at Gentleman Jackson’s Academy on Bond Street. He neededto vent his frustration with a bit of bare-knuckle boxing.
He hoped that Mrs. Dove-Lyon would consider inviting the enchanting lady to this private dinner party at the Lyon’s Den. If she didn’t, he would take matters into his own hands. Although he was financially strapped, he had a few coins to hire a private investigator. Basil had suggested a good one, who was discreet and did not gouge his clients.
Having sweated his frustrations out, Lex left Jackson’s and walked down Mount Street on his way back to Brown’s Hotel. His mind once again wandered to the beautiful redhead he’d encountered outside Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s office.
He tried to fathom why she’d made such an impact on him. Yes, she was beautiful, but there were plenty of lovely young ladies in thetonwhose appearance had no effect on him. No, there was something else about her. Something unique. Something that drew him to her. Something that made him want to make her his. To wake up next to her every goddamn morning for the rest of his life.
God, rot, you’re a desperate wretch. Nothing more than a puppy who has been denied his bone.
If only his earldom weren’t in such a woeful state. With a proper introduction, he might court her in the manner she was entitled to. Alas, such was not the case. But a glimmer of hope lit his thoughts. If it weren’t for the bleak state of his affairs, he wouldn’t be in London, and he never would have met her at all.
Lex stopped momentarily to see a window display of beaver-fur top hats. He was about to continue down Mount Street when the reflection of a lady emerging from a dressmaking establishment stole his breath and froze him in his tracks. It was all he could do not to whirl around to view her better. She was dressed in a long-sleeved, high-waisted gown of lilac muslin that hugged her curvaceous figure, and she wore a woven straw hat decorated simply with goldenrod ribbons that contrasted perfectly with the color of her gown. From beneath her hat, a few whisps of red hair had come free from her bun,which a sudden gust of breeze made swirl and dance against her cheek. The enchanting lady quickly tucked the strand behind her ear and scanned the street.
It’s her!He knew it as sure as he knew his own name. The way she moved, the red hair, her luscious figure.
Lex was glad he hadn’t turned around and approached her, as he’d initially been inclined to do. For the moment, he was curious to see where she was going and why she was alone. He hadn’t contemplated that she would remain alone for long, and he was utterly taken aback when she hailed a cab, climbed in, and continued down the road.
He knew societal mores frowned on ladies wandering about on the streets of London without an escort. Apparently, the lady was not restrained by the rules of Civilized Society. Which only made him admire her more. He liked her independent spirit.
Impulsively, his curiosity got the best of him, and he hailed another cab coming down the street.
