“What did you say your name was, my dear?” Mrs. Dove-Lyon asked as she stood up from her desk and walked around it.
“My name is Miss Louisa May Babcock, my lady.” She curtsied.
That stole a laugh from the older woman.
“My dear, there’s no need for that, but I do appreciate it.” She leaned back against the front of her desk. “Tell me, what are you doing with this object and how have you come to me with it?”
Louisa took a deep breath.
“I don’t know much about it, my lady, except the story that has been told to me since I was born. You see, I was told that some fifty years ago there was a ball in London. My grandmother was there. It was her second season, and she was very much in love with a gentleman who had made his intentions clear. Well, at this ball, the gentleman proposed, only not to my grandmother. He proposed to a different woman, a woman who had been something of a rival, I suppose, to my grandmother. This rival always wore that brooch.” Louisa nodded at the jewelry in the woman’s hand. “According to my grandmother, the brooch must have come loose or something and she found it lying on the edge of the dance floor. She picked it up and had every intention of returning it but didn’t. Instead, she put it in her pocket and watched the love of her life dance with this other woman, his fiancée. My grandmother was so heartbroken that she said in a bout of madness, she stole the brooch and went toleave the ball when a gentleman, Lord Winthrop to be precise, asked if he could call on her the following morning. She believed the brooch was a lucky charm and kept it as a sort of parting gift, I suppose. I’m not very sure.” Louisa shook her head. “Anyway, she married my grandfather, but it was not a happy marriage. They were only able to conceive a girl, my mother. When my mother came of age, she was gifted the brooch.”
“And how did her luck turn out?”
“Not good at all. She too had claimed to love someone deeply, but the same thing happened to her as it did my grandmother. Instead, she married my father, but he was affected by the drink most severely so that he was bedridden the last year of his life. I was quite young when he passed. And while we’ve lived a modest life, one I’ve always been content with, my mother’s constant misery over her poor luck has affected me. When she passed away, a number of her pieces were sold to pay her debts, but I wouldn’t part with this piece. I know she hoped that I might have better luck with it, but I’m quite afraid of it, you see.”
“Afraid?” the woman repeated. “Surely you do not believe in such a silly thing as curses?”
“I do indeed, and I will not wear it, let alone touch it.” Louisa shook her head. “No, after talking with my sister, we both decided that the best thing to do was to return the brooch to its rightful owner. Well, I decided to. My sister is still very anxious to not have a token to remember our mother. And while I cannot personally return it to your mother, I was able to learn about you and well, track you down. So please, take it back, along with my and my sister’s greatest apologies.”
The elegant woman stared from beneath her black veil at Louisa for what felt like an eternity before she folded her arms across her chest and exhaled loudly.
“What a moral thing for someone to do. I must confess that I’ve not had many kind people enter my life, but my mother wascertainly one of the gentlest people I ever knew. I thank you very much for returning it.”
Louisa smiled and bobbed her head, relieved.
“Thank you for accepting it. I’ll just be on my way then.”
“Oh no, no, no. Not so fast. I feel like I must give you something. Some sort of reward for its return.”
“Believe me, ma’am, you taking it back is all the thanks I require.”
“Nonsense, my dear. Tell me,” she said swooping around the room. “You’ve obviously returned this brooch because you do not wish to suffer the same fates as your mother and grandmother, which tells me that you may have a beau. Are you engaged?”
“No,” Louisa said, her cheeks warming. “I am not attached to anyone, nor is my sister. She may not believe in it, but I shouldn’t want to be attached to anyone while in possession of that brooch, should the curse fall to me next.”
The woman laughed. “My, I’m stunned that such an inconsequential thing as this brooch has caused such a tremendous amount of worry for you and your sister. You must let me reward you for returning it. Please? It’s the least I can do.”
“Oh well, that’s really not necessary.”
“I insist. Tell me, Miss Babcock, do you like games?”
Chapter Two
Rhys Carlyle staredat the closed door of Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s office, more curious than he cared to admit about the humble young woman who had somehow managed to waltz right into the most coveted and exclusive gambling house in the entire country.
His first thought waswho was she, followed immediately with the reminder that it didn’t matter.
Since returning home from the Battle of Leipzig two years ago, Rhys had drastically changed the way he approached the world. Before he might have smiled or flirted with her. But ever since he lost all the hearing in his right ear, he preferred to keep his distance from most people. It was easier to just let Mrs. Dove-Lyon, or as he called her, Bessie, do her job of finding him a wife, especially now that he had finally agreed to marry.
It was what they had been discussing before being interrupted by Snug and the plainly dressed mystery woman.
“Tell me, Rhys,” Bessie had asked when he first arrived that night. He had promised to stop by before his return trip north. “Exactly what sort of woman would you hope for in a wife?”
Rhys remained perfectly still, having the nervous fidgeting zapped out of him since the war. He had explained to Bessieupon his first visit to the Lyon’s Den that if and when he decided to marry, he would allow her to facilitate it, as he cared very little about courting or wooing.
“Whatever type will do.”
“As all women are so interchangeable,” she said with annoyance. “Surely you have a preference?”
