“About to learn all there is to know about me.” Lydia nodded toward the door. “May I know who that gentleman is, Mrs. Dove-Lyon? I saw him outside earlier. He arrived shortly after I did.”
“That gentleman is Viscount Eskdale,” Mrs. Dove-Lyon replied. “You might say he is one of my success stories.”
“He came to you looking for a wife? Oh, I do beg your pardon. I can’t believe I asked you that.” Lydia’s cheeks warmed. “It is none of my business, of course.”
Mrs. Dove-Lyon tutted. “That’s quite all right, my dear. Actually, it’s fairly common knowledge. It was his now-lady wife who came to me looking for a husband. Lord Eskdale was, at that time, considered to be something of a devilish rake, thoughI was never convinced that his less-than-stellar reputation was merited. In any case, he now lives in married bliss with Lady Eskdale and their young twins. So, let us continue.”
Lydia smiled her acquiescence while wondering, vaguely, what a man purportedly living in married bliss was doing at the Lyon’s Den.
“Well, my dear,” Mrs. Dove-Lyon said, a short while later, her breath stirring her veil as she glanced over the notes she’d made, “it’s quite obvious whose daughter you are. Now, tell me what you’re hoping for in a husband.”
Lydia fidgeted as a warm blush again flooded her cheeks. “I’m not at all sure how to respond to that, Mrs. Dove-Lyon.”
Mrs. Dove-Lyon chuckled. “Do not allow modesty to stifle your responses, Miss Page. I would much rather you speak candidly. Nothing you say will bring a blush to my cheeks, I can assure you. Believe me, I’ve heard it all before.”
“Right. Yes, of course.” Lydia chewed on her lip, wondering where to begin. She had an image in her head, of course, but such a perfect man could surely only exist in the pages of a book.
“Age.” Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s voice intruded into Lydia’s thoughts. “Let’s begin there, shall we? I’m assuming you would want a youngish fellow rather than a man who has one foot in the grave.”
Lydia laughed. “That would be preferable, certainly.”
“How about if he’s been married before? That is, a widower?”
Lydia barely hesitated. “That wouldn’t bother me.”
“And if there are children from the previous marriage?”
“I don’t think that would bother me either. I should like to have children of my own, however.”
“Noted. What about looks? Handsome, or at least reasonably? No deformities?”
Lydia winced. “Good looks do not matter necessarily. I suppose I should hope for a fully functioning husband whois pleasant, mannerly, and intelligent. I dislike vanity and overbearance, but I’d nevertheless prefer a man who takes pride in his appearance and comportment.” She cocked her head as a sound of amusement emanated from behind the veil. “I get the impression you’re trying not to laugh, Mrs. Dove-Lyon. Am I asking too much?”
“A fully functioning husband.” Mrs. Dove-Lyon released a shout of laughter. “My dear Miss Page, I am stealing that description for future use. It covers all the important aspects of marital life. And no, I don’t think you’re asking too much at all. Such men do exist.” She took Lydia’s hand in hers. “I just need to find one for you. And I will. You have my word.”
Lydia smiled. “I can see why my father sent me to you. He was always a good judge of character. At the risk of sounding maudlin, since meeting you I don’t feel quite as lost as I did a short while ago.”
“Well, now.” Mrs. Dove-Lyon puffed out her bosom a little. “Hearing that gives me great pleasure. So, let us carry on. You said you did not wish your inheritance to be the only lure in a potential match, so what we’d prefer is a man who is solvent. One who is not looking to marry simply for money. Although, as I suggested earlier, your inheritance will invariably play a part in the proceedings, so I will need the details of it. A well-shod suitor is not likely to be enthused about courting a pauper.”
It came out of nowhere, making Lydia shiver. A brief, but sharp stab of doubt about these so-calledproceedings. Agreeing to meet with a complete stranger based solely on hiscurriculum vitaefelt cold, somehow. Impersonal. Was she doing the right thing?
“Better the devil you know,” Mrs. Dove-Lyon said, as if reading Lydia’s mind. “Rest assured, my dear, I will not introduce you to anyone inappropriate, nor will there beexpectations or obligations. Above all, you must listen to your heart and trust what it is telling you.”
“And if my heart tells me he is not for me?”
“Then we set him aside and continue with the search.” An unseen smile seemed to emanate from behind the veil. “There are plenty of fish in the sea, Miss Page, and I cast a wide net. Now, I have a few more questions.”
“I believe, Mrs. Dove-Lyon, you now know me better than anyone,” Lydia remarked sometime later, having emptied out heart and mind to the enigmatic owner of the Lyon’s Den. She sensed, rather than saw, a responding smile.
“And how do you feel, my dear?” Mrs. Dove-Lyon asked.
“I have to say unburdened,” Lydia replied, after a moment’s consideration. “Lighter, somehow.”
A nod followed. “I’m glad to hear it.”
“So, what now?” Lydia asked.
“Now, Miss Page, you should go home, remain calm, and carry on as you usually do.” Mrs. Dove-Lyon rose to her feet. “I’ll be in touch when the time comes, which it will. I’m just not sure how long it might take.”
