Page 35 of Always the Lyon Tamer

“Ah, John Lennox.”

The voice was scathing, if it was possible to be scathing in just four syllables.

John turned to see Mrs. Dove-Lyon glaring. The proprietress of the Lyon’s Den was not very happy to see him. But if he could not face down a woman and her disapproval, he did not deserve the hand of Miss Rebecca Darby.

“Good evening, Mrs. Dove-Lyon,” John said, bowing low.

When he straightened up, he saw he had not entirely convinced her of his worthiness to return to her establishment, but at least she had not called for two of her ladies to remove him from the premises.

John swallowed.This was not going to be an easy evening, he had known that, but if Mrs. Dove-Lyon could make it less difficult, that would be appreciated.

“I am grateful for your help in this matter,” he said quietly. They stood in the same room where he and Rebecca had…well, there was a reason he could not look at the bed.“Thank you, Mrs. Dove-Lyon.”

She sniffed imperiously with quite the look of disdain. Even Lady Romeril, if she had ever deigned to know her, would have been impressed.

“Do not think I do any of this for you, young Lennox,” she said stiffly. “Remember, you have not convinced me with words, but with guineas. I hope your words have more effect with the next lady to step into this room.”

“So do I,” said John fervently, but Mrs. Dove-Lyon was gone before he could say another word.

The door slammed behind her, and John was left in silence and solitude.

He coughed into the emptiness.This was not a mistake; he was utterly sure of it.He knew what he had to do—or at least, he knew what would be needed to win Rebecca’s heart.

Though he had worried his heart’s resolve would start to falter, the long waiting period here in this room calmed him. The more he waited, the surer of himself he was.

Of her.Rebecca.

Only now did he start to understand the fear and anticipation she must have felt when she had concocted her plan to seduce him. It was incredible she had managed it.

He had almost changed his mind many times throughout the day.

The door opened, and John turned to the two women walking in. One was dressed in what he recognized now as the uniform, more or less, of the Lyon’s Den. She looked formidable, and the name Hermia hazed into his memory.

John’s gaze shifted to her companion, blindfolded, and with her hands outstretched, and his heart twisted.

Rebecca.

Despite the blindfold, it was easy to see she was nervous. The gown she was wearing was of the latest fashion, not the artfully ripped and torn one she had on two nights before.

And yet, she was more beautiful, more alluring. John cleared his throat as though that would force down his intense attraction.

“There we are,” said Hermia quietly in a reassuring voice. “Just a few minutes, and then you can leave—I promise you.”

She gave John a stern look as she released her grip on Rebecca’s shoulders, leaving her anchorless in the middle of the room.

John nodded.It was all going to plan, at least, for now.Who knew what was about to happen, now he had Rebecca before him?

Would his voice hold? Would he say what he wanted, what he must speak?

The door closed quietly. Hermia was gone, and there was silence in the room. In that instant, John’s shyness overwhelmed him, and he stood mute, unable to move, unable to speak.

He swallowed, tasting fear in his throat. He had to say something!Speak, man!

But no words came to his aid. It was impossible to think about where to start. Where on earth could one begin?

It was Rebecca who broke the silence with a sigh. “I have risked much to be here, so this had better be important, John.”

John stared in utter astonishment.How in God’s name…?