The Lyon's Lady Love: The Lyon's Den Read online

  Mrs. Dove-Lyon was changing the rules she’d set. Emma’s heart beat faster.

  “You may not, however, ask why she has sought a husband using my services.”

  “I understand,” he said, his voice low and rich.

  “Mrs. Blackwell, would you like to join me for a cup of tea?”

  Her companion rose and joined the matchmaker. “I’d be delighted to, Mrs. Dove-Lyon.”

  The women reached the door and their hostess turned for a final word. “You have one hour in which you may get to know one another. In that time, you will also share a single kiss. At the end of the hour, you should know if you suit one another or not.”

  A kiss?

  Emma had never been kissed. Ever. The thought of sharing a kiss with Lord Z flustered her. She could feel her cheeks heating.

  “One hour,” Mrs. Dove-Lyon reminded and then she, Mrs. Blackwell, and Helena left the room.

  She felt Lord Z’s eyes upon her, which caused her face to flame further.

  “I see a chair has been arranged in the center of the room. Is this where your other prospects sat?”

  “Yes.”

  “Might I move it closer?” he asked. “I would hate to shout at you from across the room.”

  Gathering her courage, Emma said, “There’s no need to move it, my lord. You may come sit with me.”

  She angled her body so that as he sat on the settee next to her, they could better converse. Of course, all thoughts of conversation fled as she inhaled the subtle spice of his cologne. He was broader than he’d appeared from a distance and took up too much space. She regretted not having him bring the chair. He was much too close for her to think.

  “I am happy for this opportunity to meet you, Lady A. I know you are being given several choices tonight. I wish you the best of luck in making your selection.”

  “It is thoughtful of you to remark upon that,” she said. “Please, tell me something about yourself.”

  “I am an only son of a peer. I am close to my sister, Amanda, who is married and has three children. I adore my niece and nephews. Having children is part of the reason I am here tonight.”

  “If you are a gentleman, I would think you would seek a lady from Polite Society and get your children off her.”

  A shadow crossed his face. “That is . . . complicated.”

  “How so?”

  He smiled ruefully. “You know why I am here. I seek a bride with a large dowry.”

  “Many young women making their come-out possess one.”

  “I know. Unfortunately, none of them appealed to me.”

  His response surprised her. “Why not?”

  “They were all so young. So green. I am thirty, Lady A, and felt old enough to be their father. I long for a more mature woman. One who could converse about a good number of topics. I am a voracious reader and want a wife I can talk about books with. One who enjoys a variety of things. A woman who wants to be a good wife and mother and yet remain her own person, interested in all manner of ideas.”

  Lord Z shrugged. “It seems that was too much to ask of the eligible young ladies making their come-out this Season.”

  “It still puzzles me that you turned to Mrs. Dove-Lyon.”

  “It surprised me, too,” he admitted. “I was hoping to find a more mature bride through her special services. I’ll also confess that I hoped if a woman was desperate enough to seek a husband in this way, she wouldn’t mind that I was so destitute and in need of her ample dowry.”

  Her gaze met his. “Why are you in this position, Lord Z?”

  He frowned. “Because of my father.”

  He didn’t speak for a good minute. Emma waited patiently, sensing this was very difficult for him.

  “Father was the most affable man you could meet. Like my mother, he had a kind heart. He was beloved by all who met him. I worshipped him. Respected him. Admired him. Wanted to be like him.” He paused. “I learned after his death that he wasn’t the man we all thought he was. It was a severe blow.”

  “Did he gamble away your family’s fortune?” she asked.

  “In part. He made a very bad investment years ago. When he lost the money from it, he turned to gambling, hoping Lady Luck would smile upon him and help him restore the missing funds that way. Instead, he only sank deeper into debt.”

  “And no one knew?”

  “His solicitor did. Mr. Afton respected Father’s privacy, however, and never clued anyone else in on what was happening. Father died quickly of a heart attack. It was at the reading of the will that we learned that there was little to inherit.”

  Her heart went out to him. She placed a hand over his. “I am sorry you had to learn that the man you loved and looked up to let you down so.”

  His other hand covered hers. Warmth filled her. “It was difficult. I sold our London townhouse to cover as many of his markers as I could. I returned to Shorecrest, our country seat, and have worked with my tenants, trying to make the land more profitable. Still, numerous debts abound and there is nothing to live on.”

  “How did your mother take things?” Emma asked.

  “She is a little clueless. Amanda and I haven’t given her much detail. She’s gone to live with Amanda but, once I wed, I would like to have her live with us.” He paused. “That is, if you decided there is to be an us. Your mother, too, would be most welcome to come stay with us.”

  His heartfelt words spoke to his sterling character.

  “She is not my mother but has been like one to me. I know she would be honored to come live with us. It would make me most happy.”

  Lord Z squeezed her hand. “Family is very important to me. Having our mothers with us would be delightful. Might I ask you how you feel about children, my lady? I’ve already told you I want them. Are you open to this possibility?”

  “It is the only reason I seek a husband,” Emma said. “I have longed for them.”

  He smiled and it was as if the sun had come out from behind the clouds. It filled her with a warmth she’d never known.

  “Do you have anything else you wish to ask of me, Lady A?”

  She didn’t. He’d already proven himself to be a good man. He would be her choice.

  “No, Lord Z.”

  “Then I suppose we must accomplish the task Mrs. Dove-Lyon assigned to us.”

  Emma’s pulse quickened.

  “May I kiss you, Lady A?”

  Chapter Seven

  His words hung in the air. Both fear and anticipation mingled equally within her.

  “I suppose so. Do you know why she would ask us to do so?”

  Lord Z grew thoughtful. “The kiss should give us a chance to see if we would enjoy being physically connected with one another. Enjoyment is not necessary in coupling but it makes the experience more pleasurable.” He smiled. “I hope we will enjoy this part of our interview, Lady A.”

  “I . . . I have never done this,” she confessed. “I never made my come-out. I have had no gentlemen call upon me.” She knew she skated perilously toward what Mrs. Dove-Lyon had deemed the one thing they weren’t to discuss.

  Why she was here.

  “Thank you for sharing that with me,” Lord Z said. “I think honesty in a relationship is very important.”

  “I assume you have kissed before?” she asked.

  He chuckled. “I have. I’ve even been told I’m quite good at it. Shall we see if you are of the same opinion?”

  Emma nodded, nerves now searing through her. Her heart pounded rapidly against her ribs. Her mouth grew dry.

  Lord Z lifted the hand atop hers and rested his palm against her cheek.

  “Close your eyes, my lady,” he said softly, his voice like a caress.

  She did as he asked, enjoying the feel of his touch and the smell of his cologne. She sensed him drawing closer and forced herself to keep her eyes closed.

  His lips touched hers and slowly brushed against them. She’d thought a kiss was pressing two mouths against one another. She’d even pr
acticed doing so with her pillow in the weeks before her come-out, wanting to be prepared in case any young man sought a kiss from her.

  This was different, though. Slow. Sensual. She became aware of the heat rising from his body. His other hand joined the first, now holding her face tenderly. His thumbs softly stroked her cheeks. His lips then pressed against hers firmly and she liked the change. Then his tongue touched them, sending a jolt running through her. It lazily swept back and forth across her bottom lip. Emma heard a whimper and realized she had made it.

  Somehow, he urged her to open to him. It was unspoken but something she needed to do. The moment her lips parted for him, his tongue swept inside her mouth, leisurely exploring her. His hands slid to her neck, stroking it lovingly. Her hands moved to his chest, palms flattening against the muscled surface. They began roaming of their own accord.

  He made a noise that let her know he was pleased. She wasn’t quite sure what it was for the blood was now rushing in her ears, drowning out sound. Her breasts began aching, feeling heavy, and a throbbing started between her legs. She squeezed it but it only pulsed more convincingly.

  Lord Z’s hands moved to her shoulders and then slid down her arms to her elbows. He clasped them and somehow brought her to her feet, never breaking the kiss. He wrapped his arms about her, bringing her against him, his mouth still on hers, his tongue playfully teasing hers. Emma touched hers against his and he groaned. A rush of feminine power filled her. She mimicked what he had done to her and he growled low in his throat, holding her tighter against him.

  He towered over her, his immense heat enveloping her until Emma thought she might catch fire. The pounding of her heart matched the pounding between her legs. His hand slid up her back and then caressed her nape. He tilted her head back further, allowing him to deepen the kiss. Heat filled her—and something more. It shocked her to realize it was desire.

  This man wanted her.

  And she wanted him.

  Hungrily, they continued kissing, her fingers kneading his shoulders as his moved up and down her back. The want turned to need.

  She needed Lord Z. Whoever he was.

  His tongue slowly withdrew but his teeth sank gently into her bottom lip. Emma moaned, a shot of desire almost bringing her to her knees. He ran his tongue along her lip again and then finally broke the kiss. Lord Z gazed down at her, those startlingly blue eyes filled with fire.

  “Do we suit?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “I think so, too.” He sighed. “That was rather earthshattering, my lady. I have never experienced a kiss such as this.”

  Slowly, he released her. Emma’s knees almost gave out and he caught her waist, guiding her back to the settee. He seated himself beside her.

  “Am I your choice, Lady A?”

  “You are, Lord Z.”

  “Good.”

  He settled against the back of the settee and she did the same. Their thighs rested next to each other, his warmth filling her. He reached out for her hand and threaded his fingers through hers.

  “I will ask one thing of you, my lady. Though you know why I need your dowry, I don’t ever wish to know why you came to Mrs. Dove-Lyon. That is your past. I am to be your present—and future. Whatever reason you had to seek a matchmaker is not important. It is what we build together that counts.”

  “You truly don’t wish to know why I couldn’t seek a husband in a more conventional manner?”

  “No. It’s not important.”

  “What if gossip about me reaches you?”

  “The men and women I call friends are not ones to gossip. If they know your circumstances, they would never bring it up to me. They—and my family—will respect you, as they do me. We don’t need to address it. Agreed?”

  “If you wish.”

  They sat in silence for a few minutes, waiting for the two ladies to return. When they did, Emma saw both women noted their joined hands. She wondered if they could also see how shaken she was.

  “Have you made a decision?” Mrs. Dove-Lyon asked.

  “I have,” Emma said firmly. “Lord Z and I wish to be married.”

  “Have you discussed the details surrounding your wedding?” the matchmaker asked, a satisfied smile seeming to emerge beneath her veil.

  “Whatever Lady A wishes,” Lord Z said.

  “I would like something simple. Quiet.”

  “I can obtain a special license tomorrow,” he said. “Of course, I would have to know your name in order to do so.” Mirth twinkled in his eyes.

  “Lady Emma Spencer,” she replied.

  “And I am Lord Marcus Rutherford.”

  Marcus . . .

  He looked like a Marcus. Stood like a Marcus. And most certainly kissed like a Marcus. She had never dreamed kissing could be so pleasurable. Or so involved. The physical intimacies that she had thought to put up with in order to have a child she now viewed in a new light. Already, her swollen lips cried out for more of his kisses, along with whatever else he might do to her. Mama had never addressed what went on in a marriage with Emma, dying long before her come-out was to be made. She supposed she could ask Mrs. Blackwell but didn’t feel comfortable addressing the topic with her. Instead, she would let whatever happened between her and Marcus Rutherford unfold slowly.

  “Do you have a preference of place?” he asked.

  “I am open to suggestions,” Emma told him.

  “We could wed at my sister’s townhouse with our family and a few friends invited to the ceremony and breakfast.”

  “It will only be Mrs. Blackwell and me,” she told him. “There is no one else. I have no siblings or other family.” She would never ask the new Lord Seton to come, not wanting him to ruin her day, especially after he’d been so cruel to her.

  Marcus squeezed her hand. “Then it will be my mother, sister, and her family. That will be enough for now. Afterward, would you mind a honeymoon in the country? I would like to show you Shorecrest. It’s off the southern coast of England, near Hastings.”

  “I would enjoy seeing it, my lord.”

  He rose, bringing her with him. He raised her hand and pressed a fervent kiss to her fingers.

  “I will make the arrangements tomorrow then. Shall we wed the day after?”

  “Yes.”

  “Who is your solicitor? I will need to meet with him and arrange the transfer of your dowry funds. I assume he will be authorized to prepare the marriage settlement?”

  “Mr. Crenshaw has full authority to handle my affairs.” Emma provided the solicitor’s address. She had told Crenshaw to expect a quick wedding and to be prepared to handle all the legal details for her.

  “What is your address?” he asked. “I will send a carriage for you at ten o’clock.”

  She gave it to him and he nodded. “Very well.” He kissed her hand again. “Thank you, Emma. I hope I won’t disappoint you.”

  He turned and took Mrs. Blackwell’s hand. “Thank you, Mrs. Blackwell, for being a mother to Emma. We have already spoken of you residing with us. Please consider it.”

  Emma saw her employer looked taken aback and then pleased.

  Marcus bowed to their hostess. “I am grateful for the opportunity, Mrs. Dove-Lyon.”

  “Be a good husband to her, Rutherford,” the woman said gruffly.

  “I will be faithful to my vows and always respectful,” he promised. “Good evening.”

  When he left the room, she felt as if all the air had been sucked from it, so great was his presence.

  “You have made a wise choice, Lady Emma,” the matchmaker said. “Make the most of it.”

  Marcus left The Lyon’s Den feeling exhilarated. He’d dreaded tonight, knowing he would have to accept whatever match Mrs. Dove-Lyon made for him. How could he have dreamed that the woman seeking a husband was everything he could have asked for?

  Lady Emma Spencer was very beautiful. He’d been drawn to her as a moth to a flame. Her periwinkle eyes, a mix of blue and purple, captured
him from the moment he saw her. He longed to unpin the honey-blond hair and comb his fingers through it. Her heart-shaped face had fit perfectly in his hands. Her figure was trim, with a small waist and firm, high breasts.

  But it was her kiss which had brought him to his knees.

  Knowing he was the first man to ever kiss her had made him protective of her. He’d only intended to give her a chaste kiss to fulfill the matchmaker’s requirement. Instead, the warm vanilla scent wafting from her skin had gone to his head, causing him to kiss her thoroughly. Though a novice at kissing, Lady Emma was a bright pupil, one he looked forward to tutoring in the art of love. Her passionate nature, which had lain dormant, had been awakened. It had taken every bit of willpower Marcus possessed to stop at mere kissing—and keeping those kisses on her mouth. He yearned to kiss every intimate spot on her body. Learn which places to kiss to have her spiral out of control.

  She had said she definitely wanted children. That had been the most important thing to him, even more than the money she brought into the marriage. He couldn’t believe his good fortune, gaining a beautiful bride and enough money to save the Rutherford family name. At least he hoped so. No specifics had been discussed, only that the dowry was quite large.

  Should he go back? Confirm how much would be added to the Rutherford coffers?’

  No. It wouldn’t have mattered. Lady Emma Spencer had affected him like no other woman. Even if she were a pauper, Marcus would have married her. Physical desire overwhelmed him. He wondered if, someday, love might also come. He would be open to it but not expect it.

  He believed it had been a good decision on his part not to know why she couldn’t take a conventional route to the altar. Although he knew very little of her, he believed she had done nothing wrong. It must be something regarding her family that had prevented her from making her come-out. She looked to be in her mid-twenties. He wondered what she had been doing all this time since she hadn’t made her debut and wed. He was also curious about her relationship with Mrs. Blackwell. Having the woman live with them would be good for his own mother, giving her a companion to talk with.