Page 3 of Enchanted By the Lyon
“Done? Why I barely know the man,” Cassandra replied, trying to appear offhand and hoping that she succeeded.
“Hmmm… if you say so. But from what I could see just now, he was fascinated with you. He’s a wonderful lover if you desire to take him to your bed.” She sighed and fanned her face with her hand.
“Emily!”
The lady gave her a coy smile and shrugged. “I only speak from experience. I would advise you, however, not to get too… well… clingy. The moment I began to make demands on the man was the day he gave me a handsome settlement.”
Hm, Cassandra thought. She’d made that mistake with Neville. Given the opportunity, no matter what her feelings, she was determined never to give them away again.
“I must admit I do miss having him in my bed,” Emily continued. “Although, I certainly won’t complain on how he settled my accounts. He can be extremely generous with his money.”
“I am not interested in his money, Emily,” she retorted tartly.
Emily laughed. “Trust me when I tell you, there are far more interesting things to do with the Earl of Blackthorn than being overwhelmed with all his wealth… and there’s plenty of it. I know from experience.”
“I honestly don’t wish to know about your past relationship with the earl.” Cassandra picked up her fan dangling from her wrist and began to wave the object in front of her face as if it was a weapon.
“I can see I’ve touched on a nerve,” Emily began before reaching over to take Cassandra’s hand. “Given how I know you’ll be attempting to put your past behind you, Lucius Ford is one man who has absolutely no desire to be shackled to a wife. If he is your objective as a potential husband, I’d advise you to look for another. Conquering that wicked rogue will never happen in a million years.”
“Haven’t you heard that reformed rakes make the best husbands?” Cassandra snapped with a raised brow.
“Pfft… not in Lucius’s case. There are plenty of other members of thetonwho will overlook your past, Cassandra. Choose one of them instead. You’re still a beautiful woman. One of them will be perfectly suitable.”
Cassandra rolled her eyes and turned away staring into the darkness of night outside the window. She hardly wished to be saddled with some boring member of thetonwho wasperfectly suitable. She wanted someone who could challenge her both intellectually and physically. She knew what she wanted in a husband, but more importantly and for whatever reason, she wanted Lucius. But would he conform to the man she knew he could someday be? The likelihood may not be in her favor but she was aware that passion hid at the edge of uncertainty. Cassandra had nothing to lose in hoping for a love match with Lucius.
She raised her gloved hand to move a strand of her hair but a hint of citrus, spice, and something else she couldn’t identify caused her heart to flutter. She couldn’t help the smile that formed on her lips knowing that her gloves from when she had bumped into Lucius held the delicious scent of the man shehad been infatuated with for over a year. She inhaled deeply, enjoying this treat while the carriage made its way through the darkened streets of London.
The carriage turned onto Cleveland Row and began to slow in front of a four-story, light blue building known as the Lyon’s Den. How many times had Cassandra already been inside with her friends in order for the Black Widow of Whitehall to work her magic? Too many to count. True… she had paid the woman an extraordinary amount for each match she had made for her friends and that price had doubled since Cassandra had Lucius in mind. But Mrs. Dove-Lyon seemed amicable to the match and appeared confident and more than capable of turning the tables in her favor. Cassandra had the feeling Lucius would soon have a losing strike that even he might begin to question.
The door to the carriage opened and a footman held out his hand to help the two ladies descend the step to the ground. When the driver left the curb, another carriage rolled up while Cassandra and Emily began to make their way to the lady’s side entrance. Curious as to who else was going to be in attendance tonight at the infamous Den, a small smile lit her face when the man of her deepest fantasies alit from his own conveyance and went up the gentlemen’s walkway. He, too, paused when he noticed the women, and he nodded his head in their direction before resuming his pace toward the front door.
“What are the chances that our dear Lucius would also be at the Lyon’s Den tonight?” Emily purred before letting out a light laugh.
“He’s been here before,” Cassandra commented dryly, hoping to end the conversation, but Emily seemed to want to continue digging into Cassandra’s patience.
“I understand he recently took Virtue Darling as his latest mistress,” Emily declared with a wave of her hand before they, too, continued their way up the walkway. “I wonder if he mightreconsider an association with me… that is, if you are honestly not interested in him.”
Cassandra halted and took Emily’s arm. “If you think you can get him back, then go ahead and try. I truly don’t care what you do.”
She quickly whirled away as she fought off an uncomfortable and strange feeling of jealousy. It caused her to wonder why she was creating an association with another lady who was known to take lovers. Would thisfriendshipbe in her best interest? Certainly, she could call upon her true friends for company. Or could she, now that they were all happily married?
Emily caught up to her, muttering a soft apology as they arrived at the side door. Two women bouncers stood guard over the women’s entrance. Since Cassandra had been here multiple times, the ladies were well known to her.
“Good evening, Mrs. Vaughn… Mrs. Yates,” Hermia said, taking hold of the handle of the door.
“Welcome to the Lyon’s Den, ladies,” Helena chimed in as she stood back to allow them entrance.
“Thank you, Helena and Hermia,” Cassandra said with a nod of her head as she entered into the women’s foyer of the Lyon’s Den.
The opulence of the entrance was enough to cause anyone to take pause to appreciate the scene before them. Golden vases with beautiful roses sat on several mahogany side tables along with other objects of value. A chandelier filled with candles hung above her head to light the area and the sounds of the women guests coming from the other rooms was enough to know that they were having a grand time and most likely winning at Bessie Dove-Lyon’s tables. Well-dressed servants holding trays of food and drink quickly came and went from a side room in front of her and Cassandra had always assumed there were stairs behind the wall so they could make their way from the kitchen below.
Now Cassandra glanced to her left to see several women sitting in the parlor and while she recognized some of them, others wore a mask to conceal their identities. Instead of joining them, she turned toward the right, taking her into the dining area. A buffet of food was spread out for their enjoyment, but Cassandra was hardly in the mood to eat. She was a bunch of nervous knots ever since she had bumped into Lucius.
Instead of nibbling on something to possibly calm her, she instead made her way to the observation gallery that separated the dining area and the gambling room for the ladies. Here they were able to look down and watch the men as they gambled away small fortunes or, if they were lucky enough, come away as a winner. It was known to all who came here that sometimes the games were rigged in order for Mrs. Dove-Lyon to further establish whatever plans she might have for her matchmaking business.
Emily left to head to the gambling room, leaving Cassandra to make her way to the railing of the gallery to watch the men below. Her eyes scanned the area trying to find the one man who held some kind of connection to her that she couldn’t reasonably explain. She quickly found him standing close to Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s private room, which made sense since he had also just arrived and hadn’t had much time to venture further into the gambling room.
He was just…divinethis evening. She gave a heavy sigh of appreciation at the sight of the well-dressed gentleman. A lock of his thick, black hair fell rakishly forward and the desire to push back those silken tresses with both hands was almost too much for Cassandra to bear.
