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“Not of sorts,” Bessie said. “I am the best matchmaker in London. I am the woman who makes the impossible possible. I find good matches for ladies who are in dire straits like you.”

“You’re not thinking of…finding me a husband?”

“I am prepared to try. But I’m afraid it will cost you. My services are very expensive.”

“But I don’t have any money. I spent the only coins I had on a hackney to get here.”

“Those earrings will work for payment,” Bessie said. “Provided they are genuine, of course.”

Maggie’s hands flew to her ears. “Good heavens, I forgot that I was wearing these. They don’t belong to me. Lord Tidworth will miss them.”

“They weren’t a gift, then?”

“They were…but…” She bit her lip.

“Well, then they belong to you.”

“I…he’ll say I stole them. He’ll see me hanged.”

“Not if he can’t prove you took them. I have a jewelry shop downstairs, and a clever jeweler who can transform those pieces into something equally as beautiful but quite unrecognizable.”

Maggie hesitated. “But I don’t want to marry. Every man I have ever known has betrayed me. First my papa, and then Tobias. I don’t trust any man.”

“Understandable,” Bessie said. “But you were young and naive. You are wiser now. Trust me when I tell you that women can and often do have power in their marriages, and their husbands are happier for it. I have matched many couples who remain blissfully married to this day.”

“But who would want to marry me? I’m not chaste? Who’d want a discarded mistress?”

“You leave that part to me,” Bessie said, holding out her hand for the earrings. When Miss Wentworth still hesitated, she added. “They will cover my services and your board and lodging here for a month. I assume you have nowhere else to go.”

Miss Wentworth nodded.

“You could try and sell the earrings yourself, but it’s unlikely you will be able to do so without getting into problems. Tidworth will no doubt put out feelers and make false accusations. And if that happens…well, he is an earl.”

“I want to stay here,” Miss Wentworth said. Then she slowly reached for her earrings and plucked them from her ears. “This is the only place Tobias can’t hurt me.”

“And by the time you are married, he will no longer have the power to touch you,” Bessie said, rising from her chair. She walked to Miss Wentworth, and the young lady dropped the delicate earrings into her open palm. The violet stones held by each teardrop were the size of large pearls and quite exquisite.

Lord Tidworth was certain to be furious that his mistress had absconded with them. So she would need to have her jeweler start work on the pieces right away, and she’d have to move quickly to secure Miss Wentworth’s marriage, to keep her safe. Her biggest challenge would be getting Lord Cadwell on board. Not only had she banished him, but he wasn’t one to fall prey to her games, nor did he owe her any favors. Well, she thought, I shall simply have to get inventive.

Chapter Seven

Maggie couldn’t believe her good fortune. She’d been given a small room in a secluded area of the Lyon’s Den, fed a hearty meal, and relaxed for the first time in days. She knew that her problems were far from over, but she felt safe. Mrs. Dove-Lyon was a powerful woman, and the only person who could help her. She’d made the right decision in coming to the Lyon’s Den.

She’d slept soundly, well into the afternoon, and her stomach growled when she awoke. Just as she was wondering whether she should dress and venture downstairs, a knock sounded at her door, and Hermia entered, carrying a tray with a pot of tea, a teacup and saucer with a matching milk pitcher and sugar bowl, along with a place setting and an eggcup. There was also a plate of boiled eggs, another holding a stack of toast slices, and a dish of marmalade.

“Sit down and eat up,” Hermia instructed, placing the tray on a small table in the front of the room. “The maids will be up shortly with hot water to fill your bathtub.” She pointed to the copper tub, sitting in the corner of the room. “Mrs. Dove-Lyon has plans for you tonight.”

“Plans? What sort of plans?” Maggie asked, sitting down to eat.

“You’ll be told everything when necessary,” Hermia said and turned to leave.

A thought occurred to her, one among many. But this one was most important. “Wait!” Maggie called as Hermia made for the door, “Am I to be married tonight?” But she received no answer. Hermia did not so much as turn around before exiting the room.

Maggie sat in silence for a few seconds, trying to settle her nerves. But when her stomach rumbled loudly again, the need for sustenance took precedence. She poured herself a steaming cup of tea to which she added two lumps of sugar and cream. She sipped the liquid, breaking her long fast, and smiled. It was delicious. Mrs. Dove-Lyon wasn’t serving the watery, tasteless tea that some people drank; that was certain. She clearly had fine taste.

Just as Maggie started on her boiled egg, two maids entered, carrying large jugs of hot water. They emptied them into the tub and then exited. Maggie slathered her toast with a generous helping of marmalade and took a bite. Lost in the sweet, tangy flavor, she ate it quickly and then prepared a second slice for herself.

As she ate, the maids returned with more hot water. On their fifth trip upstairs, Maggie had finally quieted her stomach. Her face and hands felt somewhat sticky from the marmalade, and a bath was exactly what she needed.