The massive room Louisa entered was the grandest, and certainly most lavish she had ever seen. Louisa’s head tipped back as her gaze lifted, instantly drawn to the three massive chandeliers that hung above a sea of men in black tuxedos. Every few yards a woman dressed in a jewel-toned gown and bare shoulders could be seen, laughing, whispering, or hanging on a gentleman’s arm.
The music was lively and exciting, the confusing scent of flowers, perfume, roasted vegetables, meats, pastries, liquor, and sweat mingled together in the air like an ungodly warning. This was not the sort of place a young lady of gentle breeding should ever find herself in, lest it was dire.
But to Louisa, ending up miserable because of a curse for the rest of her life was dire enough.
“This way, miss,” Snug said loudly, snapping Louisa from her thoughts.
“Oh, yes.”
She followed him around the edge of the large room, carefully avoiding guests, though some of the gentlemen on the floor gave her curious, if not confused glances.
“The clients of the Lyon’s Den pay an exorbitant amount of money for the privilege of having a place their wives, mistresses, and daughters are not permitted to,” Snug stated, as if reading Louisa’s mind. “You coming in here dressed as though you’re going to church is confusing to say the least. That’s why they’re staring.”
“Oh,” Louisa answered. Unwittingly, her left hand came up to her chest to grasp the hems of her cloak tightly together as they reached a large, curved staircase that was lined with maroon carpet.
Her gaze moved up the stairs, along the iron railing that curved to the right and continued all around the mezzanine above. Louisa followed Snug as they reached the landing and continued down the open hallway until they reached a set of double doors. He rapped his knuckles against the solid wood three times before opening the door, allowing a string of words to carry out from the room.
“There is absolutely no reason why you shouldn’t…” a feminine voice was saying, but Louisa was focused solely by the extravagant décor of this room.
As they entered, Louisa gaped at the rich royal-blue wallpaper that lined the large square room. Grand furniture with black lacquer and gold cushions gave the room an air of mystery. Massive bouquets of flowers were positioned on nearly every available table space except for a grand wooden desk that sat in front of a large circular window that must have overlooked the street below. The soft, speckled orange glow of the London skyline shone through the window, like dozens of flames dancing in the dark.
Behind the desk was an elegantly dressed woman in a black velvet gown with a veil covering her face. And standing opposite to her was a man, whose hair was longer than was currently fashionable, curly and dark. His profile was striking, with asharp jaw and high cheekbones, but when he turned to see who had interrupted what was likely a private conversation, Louisa bit the inside of her cheek and avoided eye contact.
“Madam?” Snug said. “A visitor is here for you.”
The woman, who had not looked up from her desk, spoke.
“I’m not receiving visitors tonight, Snug. You know that.”
“Yes, but Titan was insistent that I bring the young lady up here.”
That caught the woman’s attention. Glancing up from her paperwork, she appeared to stare directly at Louisa.
“Snug, you know I take my meetings with potential prospects at the end of the week—”
“I beg your pardon, ma’am, but I’m not a, a prospect,” Louisa spoke, unsure exactly what a prospect was. “I only came to return this.”
Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the black velvet bag and went to approach the desk, only for the handsome man to step in front of her. Louisa stared up at him, shocked not only by his height but by the intensity of his dark stare. Her lips parted ever so slightly, and his eyes dropped to her mouth.
“Be a good girl and hand Carlyle whatever it is you wish to return, my dear,” the woman spoke.
Louisa held out the bag, but the man didn’t take it. Confused, she pushed it towards him, until it almost touched his chest. He lifted his hand and took it from her, before turning and delivering it to Mrs. Dove-Lyon.
Louisa held her breath as the woman took it and opened it. Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s gazed inside the bag and, holding up her other hand, she flipped the velvet pouch until the cursed brooch fell into her hand.
Although neither Snug nor Mr. Carlyle seemed to understand the importance of the object, Louisa saw a series of emotions play over the woman’s face.
“Snug, leave us.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“And have Carlyle wait outside.”
“Ah, yes, ma’am,” Snug said.
Louisa turned as she watched Snug pull out his pocket watch and tap it three times while Mr. Carlyle watched. Then, both men left without another word.
What a bizarre interaction.
