Page 10 of Enchanted By the Lyon
“Yes. I checked with her maid before attending you. I promise you’ll be sitting in the front room finishing a cup of tea before she finally joins you,” Fanny said with a small smile.
Relieved she wouldn’t keep her friend waiting, Cassandra made her way down the long hallway, barely take notice of the paintings of Vincent’s ancestors gracing the walls. But as she was descending the stairway, she couldn’t help but notice the large portrait on the wall of her friend and her husband. They made a striking pair and the artist who had commissioned the piece had brilliantly captured the love felt between them. Cassandra could only hope to be so blessed one day to find the love they shared.
She was about to enter the parlor when she came to a sudden halt and her breath caught in her throat. There stood the gentleman of her dreams by the window with the sun streaming down upon him. Dressed in riding boots and breeches, he was clearly here to meet Vincent for an afternoon ride. Her heart began racing when he turned.
He appeared startled but then a slow smile crept up at the corners of his lips. Lips she had fantasied about for months. Ones that woke her from heated dreams, craving his actual touch.
“Mrs. Vaughn. What a pleasant surprise.” He gave a bow before he began crossing the room to stand before her.
“Lord Blackthorn,” she answered, dropping into a curtsey. “I’m sorry if I intruded.”
“Not at all. I’m here to meet Saxton for a ride in the park,” he said. Then he appeared to assess her attire. “You look lovely this afternoon, Mrs. Vaughn.”
She was slightly caught off guard with his compliment, but she certainly couldn’t miss his appreciative gaze. “Thank you, my lord.”
“Are you here for an outing with the marchioness?” He held out his hand and she placed hers in his palm. A thrill shot up her arm, through her heart, and then settled in the place between her thighs. It pulsed when he leaned forward to kiss the air between her skin and his mouth. She was almost disappointed that she didn’t feel the warmth of those delectable, dreamy lips.
“We’re to head to The Oxford Street Book Palace and Tea Rooms,” she finally managed to answer. Was he aware she was now living here? Probably not, she reasoned, given she had only moved a few of her belongings in yesterday.
“A lovely day for an outing of any kind,” he murmured softly, and his tone went right through her like a bolt of white-hotlightning. It made her shiver—but not with a chill. “How could I ever forget you are friends with Saxton’s wife?”
Cassandra realized her mind had gone quite blank.Oh dear.And he’d asked a question! She needed to keep her wits about her, or she’d sound like a buffoon if he continued to rattle her mind. “For years now, much as you yourself have been acquainted with the marquis, I assume.”
“Since our days in Oxford,” he said off-handedly, but she could in no way miss his appreciative gaze sweeping over her body from head to toe. It gave her the impression that his thoughts were not completely on their conversation about their friends, either. Instead, she mused, they were specifically about her.
Cassandra swore his green eyes darkened to the shade of a forest right after the rain. He stepped closer and once again she scented his cologne. She breathed deeply to fully enjoy it as she remembered her carriage ride to the Lyon’s Den and smelling his scent that lingered on her gloves for the first time. Bergamot! That was thesomething elseshe hadn’t been able to place and the citrus scent with floral and spicy undertones was intoxicating. She began to wonder if Mrs. Dove-Lyon was already pushing him in her direction. It was a lovely notion to her plans to find a husband but she still remained on edge.
She had become distracted staring into his eyes and realized she had not responded to his comment. “True friends are hard to come by. I cherish those who have remained by my side over the years and I assume you feel the same with your friendship with the marquis.”
“Indeed,” her replied kindly before returning to the subject of their outings. “Are you looking for any book in particular at the bookshop?”
“Not necessarily,” she mused while continuing to study him. “Do you have recommendations?”
“A fair few, I would say. Though I am not sure if they would be to your liking.”
“You might be surprised what books I enjoy, Lord Blackthorn.” She felt a blush bloom on her cheeks as she looked into his amused eyes and the smile widening on his lips. Her heart once again betrayed her responses to the man who unknowingly continued to pull at her emotions. Yet, maybe hewasfully aware what he was doing.
“Would I, indeed?” he said in a tender slow drawl as he cocked his head to one side. “Most ladies of my acquaintance are raving about Jane Austen’sPride and Prejudice. Have you read it?”
“Not yet.”
“It was published several years ago and comes highly recommended. You might enjoy it as did I,” he declared with another appreciative look at her.
“I did not take you for being interested in a romantic novel, my lord.”
His eye took on a mischievous glint causing her pulse to elevate. “As you also just mentioned, you, too, might be surprised by what literary tomes I enjoy.” He paused briefly before continuing with a laugh. “But I tease you… it was a bet among one of my friends who thought I couldn’t make it past the first chapter.”
Cassandra took a step back, hoping that he hadn’t noticed the heightened color of her face, but by his look, she knew he had. “I enjoy the classics,” she rushed reaching for the fan dangling from her wrist and waving it slowly, so as not to appear flustered with him. She knew she was failing. Lucius, on the other hand, was enjoying this.
“Nothing like a good story and a cup of tea on a nice day like this. But tell me, Mrs. Vaughn, what is your favorite book?” he asked politely.
She wavered momentarily on revealing one of her favorites. If anyone other than Lucius had asked, she might have given a different response. “The Fortunes & Misfortunes of the Famous Moll Flandersby Daniel Defoe. I can admire a woman who adapts to what life throws at her and lands on her feet.”
Lucius nodded. “An admirable quality to be commended,” he answered before continuing. “I would have thought you might prefer an adventure like Defoe’sRobinson Crusoeor perhaps the verses from Lord Byron. He is an interesting fellow.” Another short laugh left him.
“You met him?” she asked in surprise.
Lucius shrugged. “He was popular while here in England before leaving for parts unknown. Everyone in Society wanted him at their gatherings and he was only too happy to oblige them. After he publishedChilde Harold’s Pilgrimagehe became quite the celebrity.”
