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

  Purchasing a new townhouse in London would be important once he received the dowry. Although he expected a good portion of it to go toward cleaning up the mire of debts, he couldn’t ask Emma to live with Amanda and her family, as he’d done whenever he came to town. He wished he could buy back the former Rutherford townhouse. No one had moved in since he sold it this time last year. His solicitor had no idea who had purchased it. Maybe he would look into it and see if he could make an offer for it.

  Marcus hailed a hansom cab and had it take him to Mayfair. When he’d left earlier this evening, Amanda had said they were going to a musicale and expected to be home early. He wanted to share his news with her and let her know about his upcoming marriage.

  He entered the townhouse and asked the butler where Lord and Lady Stanley were.

  “They arrived home a quarter of an hour ago, my lord. They are in the library. Lady Rutherford has already retired for the evening.”

  Clamping down on the nerves that rushed through him, he went upstairs and found them sipping on brandies.

  “Hello, Rutherford,” his brother-in-law greeted. “Shall I pour you a brandy?”

  “I’ll see to it myself.”

  He poured two fingers and came to sit across from them. Stanley had his arm about his wife. Amanda’s head rested on her husband’s shoulder. Marcus thought in a few days that could be him with Emma.

  “I’ve come to tell you something,” he began. “I hope you’ll be happy for me.”

  Amanda sat up. “What? You seem excited.”

  “I am. Tomorrow, I will purchase a special license.”

  “You’re getting married?” Amanda squealed. “Who is she? Why haven’t you spoken about this before? Oh, I’ve seen you dancing quite a bit but I had no idea you’d developed a tendre for someone.”

  Stanley chuckled. “If you’ll give him a chance, my dear, he might even tell you about his fiancée.”

  She punched her husband in the arm and turned back to Marcus. “Tell me everything.”

  “You know I had very little regarding my inheritance.”

  Her eyes misted with tears. “I know.”

  “As many a gentleman has found himself doing, I have found a bride with a substantial dowry.”

  “Oh, Marcus, you don’t have to do this,” his sister protested. “We could—”

  “You and Stanley have done enough for me. I have also tried myself to improve matters at Shorecrest. It wasn’t enough.”

  “But to wed strictly for money?”

  “Most everyone does, Amanda,” he pointed out.

  She turned and stroked Stanley’s face. “I suppose not everyone is as lucky as we are, my love.”

  He kissed the tip of her nose. “Apparently not. But let’s hear about this woman.”

  “Her name is Lady Emma Spencer,” he revealed.

  Amanda’s brow creased in thought. “I don’t believe I know that name. I thought I had met all of the girls making their come-out.”

  “She did not make her come-out this year,” he said. “In fact, she never made it.” He took a deep breath. “I had a matchmaker find her for me.”

  “What?” Amanda exclaimed. She thought a moment. “Oh, no. Don’t tell me. You went to the Black Widow of Whitehall, didn’t you?”

  “How do you know about her?” he asked. “I’d only heard whispered rumors over the years.”

  “Marcus, she only pairs down-on-their-luck gentlemen with the most scandalous women in society. You cannot do this!”

  “It’s already done. I will go to Doctors’ Commons tomorrow.” He paused. “We are planning to wed the day after tomorrow. I was hoping we could hold the ceremony here.”

  “Here? And the breakfast? There’s so much to be done.”

  “It will only be her and her guardian, plus you and Stanley.”

  She looked perplexed. “No one else? She has no family.”

  “No siblings. No one else.”

  “You want no others to attend? None of our family? Your friends?”

  “We prefer a quiet affair.” He rose. “If you are uncomfortable, we can go elsewhere.”

  She stood and flew into his arms. “Of course not. You are my only brother. We will be happy to host your wedding and breakfast.” She kissed his cheek, sorrow filling her eyes. “I only wish it hadn’t come to this.”

  “It may be for the best, Amanda. I’d found no woman I was attracted to this Season.”

  “This Lady Emma appeals to you?”

  “She does. Very much. She is kind. Unassuming. She wants children. You know how important that is to me.”

  “Very well. Sit again. Let’s talk about what to serve at the breakfast.”

  As Amanda went on and on, Marcus hoped his sister would come to like Emma.

  Chapter Eight

  Emma climbed into the carriage Lord Rutherford had sent for her and Mrs. Blackwell. She settled against the cushions, her pulse pounding violently. Nausea filled her—along with doubt.

  She’d met with Mr. Crenshaw to inform him of her fiancé’s name. The solicitor had reminded her that under English law, not only would the funds designated as her dowry go to Lord Rutherford, but all that she had inherited. He apologized and, for a moment, she had almost changed her mind. She would be going into this marriage with nothing now. Her husband would have total control over her.

  It worried her that he had said only his family would be present. Until yesterday afternoon. A note was delivered telling her he had asked two friends and their wives to attend the ceremony and breakfast. It was certainly within his rights to do so. In fact, it might have been his sister, who hosted the affair, who’d insisted on the couples attending. Still, it bothered her.

  Mrs. Blackwell patted her hand. “You’re doing the right thing, dear. I am a good judge of people, especially when it comes to men. I believe Lord Rutherford to be a man of impeccable character.” She smiled. “Besides, he seems very eager for children, the very thing you wish for in a marriage. Most men have no feelings on the matter, save for their wife providing them an heir. I feel Lord Rutherford will be the kind of man who will be actively engaged with his children.”

  “I hope so.”

  They arrived half an hour later, pulling up to a townhouse in Mayfair. She tamped down the bile that rose and hoped everything would happen quickly.

  Once inside, the butler led them to a small parlor, where two women waited. They rose and immediately, Emma saw the resemblance between the younger woman and her fiancé. This had to be his sister. She assumed the older woman to be Lady Rutherford.

  As they approached, the younger one said, “How nice it is to meet you, Lady Emma. Mrs. Blackwell. I am Lady Stanley but I insist you call me Amanda. This is my mother, Lady Rutherford.”

  They four exchanged pleasantries and Lady Stanley said, “We are glad you will be part of our family. Marcus has told us he wants Mama and Mrs. Blackwell to live with you after your marriage.” She slipped a hand through her mother’s arm. “I will miss having Mama here. She is such a help with the children.”

  Lady Rutherford looked Emma in the eyes and said, “I hope you will provide me with more grandchildren soon, Lady Emma. Family means a great deal to my son. The sooner you begin breeding, the better.”

  A blush rose on her cheeks but the words from the Rutherford matriarch made Emma feel better.

  “We will do our best, Lady Rutherford,” she promised.

  The soon-to-be dowager countess said, “Mrs. Blackwell, since we are to be companions in my son’s home, we should get to know one another better. Would you care to come see the wedding cake?”

  “Wedding cake is a favorite of mine. I would very much like to see it, my lady.”

  The older women excused themselves.

  “I hope you don’t mind that we asked a few others to witness today’s proceedings,” Lady Stanley said. “We are old and dear friends of the St. Clair family. Marcus is close to two of the brothers.”

  At that moment, two
newcomers entered the parlor. Emma ascertained these were the brothers’ wives.

  “Ah, I was just mentioning you to Lady Emma. This is the Duchess of Everton and Lady Mayfield.”

  Emma curtseyed. “Your Grace. Lady Mayfield. Thank you for coming today.”

  “It is our pleasure,” the duchess replied. “Your husband is one of the finest men I know.”

  It comforted her to hear Rutherford was highly thought of by a duchess.

  “Your name sounds familiar to me, Your Grace.”

  The auburn-haired beauty chuckled. “It may be if you frequent bookstores. I write children’s books.” She turned to her sister-in-law. “Lady Mayfield owns Evie’s Bookstore and allows me to do readings of my works there.”

  “Ah, Mrs. Blackwell and I have been to Evie’s to purchase books. We also enjoy the tearoom.”

  “I’m delighted to hear that,” Lady Mayfield said. “Are you a member of the subscribing service?”

  “No, I am not aware of what that is.”

  Lady Mayfield laughed. “Then we will indoctrinate you once you return from your honeymoon.”

  “Yes,” Her Grace said. “You and Mrs. Blackwell must come to tea so you can meet the rest of us. There are more St. Clairs to know, along with my sister. I hope we will all become fast friends.”

  Tears misted in Emma’s eyes. To go from the isolated life she had led to suddenly having an abundance of friends was overwhelming.

  “Are you taking a honeymoon?” Lady Mayfield asked.

  “Rutherford wants me to see Shorecrest.”

  “Oh, Marcus has worked very hard this last year on the estate,” Lady Stanley shared. “It’s a beautiful place and the coast is nearby. You’ll have to picnic on the beach.”

  “I’m looking forward to seeing my new home.”

  “Where will you live in London?” the duchess asked. “I know Rutherford has been staying with his sister when he is in town.”

  “He wishes Lady Rutherford and Mrs. Blackwell to reside with us. He will look for a townhouse when we return from the country.”

  “Oh, I wish it were possible for you to live in our former townhouse. Marcus and I adored the place.” She sighed. “It was sold last year, though from what I can tell, no one has ever moved in.”

  “I hear it’s for sale again,” the duchess said. “My duke can look into it while you are on your honeymoon and see that it’s held for you if you wish.”

  “That would be wonderful,” Emma said, supposing a duke had that kind of power to keep a place on the market for his friend.

  A distinguished man with fair hair entered the room. Emma saw the fond smile cross Amanda’s lips and knew this must be her husband.

  “It’s time to start. Reverend Peters is itching to get things underway.”

  He came toward them. “I am Lord Stanley, Lady Emma, and I’d be happy to escort you to your waiting groom.”

  She hadn’t even thought about needing an escort. “I would appreciate that, my lord.”

  The others left and then the earl offered her his arm. “Shall we?”

  He took his time, leading her from the downstairs parlor to the drawing room upstairs.

  “Are you nervous?” he asked. “I was on my wedding day. The first time I saw Amanda, I knew she was the one for me. It was the opening night of the Season and she sparkled. I was painfully shy, though. Still am. I didn’t work up the courage to speak to her for a good three weeks. By then, she had a line of suitors out the door.”

  “Obviously, that didn’t discourage you.”

  “No. It only made me more determined. I asked her to dance. One dance was all it took. Somehow, for reasons I’ve never discovered, she was interested in me, too. Things progressed and I offered for her. Yet I stood at the altar on my wedding day, worried that she wouldn’t show.” He chuckled. “Three children later, I’ve finally arrived at the conclusion that she’s not getting rid of me.”

  “That’s a lovely story,” she said as they reached the top of the staircase and started down the corridor.

  “I will tell you that Rutherford is a very fine man. I know you didn’t have the usual courtship but it will work if you both want it to.”

  They reached the drawing room and she halted their movement. “Thank you, Lord Stanley. I will take your words to heart.”

  He nodded and guided her into the room.

  Emma’s eyes sought her groom and found him at the far end of the room. He looked both solemn and anxious but as he caught sight of her arrival, a brilliant smile appeared. Maybe he’d been as worried and full of doubts as she was with the unconventional way they had come together. She returned his smile, her heart racing.

  Stanley took her across the room and delivered her to the groom.

  He leaned down. “You look breathtaking,” he whispered.

  “The seamstress was up all night finishing the gown. I had nothing suitable to wear for a wedding.”

  “You’re worth every second of her time.”

  The clergyman cleared his throat. “Are we ready to begin?”

  Her groom suppressed a smile but his eyes lit in amusement. Emma found herself stifling a giggle.

  “Yes, Reverend Peters. My bride and I are ready for you to begin.”

  As Emma repeated the vows, pledging herself to this man, she hoped beyond hope she was doing the right thing.

  Marcus slipped his arm about Emma, who’d fallen asleep after their meal. The carriage would only go another five miles or so before they stopped at an inn for the night. It was the usual place they stayed when coming down from London. They’d already switched horses twice, getting out to stretch their legs both times before returning to the vehicle. Amanda’s cook had thoughtfully prepared a basket for them and they had eaten from it an hour earlier, making it unnecessary to stop for a meal along the way. They hadn’t eaten much of it because the lavish wedding breakfast had been scrumptious and filling.

  He turned and inhaled the vanilla scent that seemed to cling to his new wife. She was warm against him, her cheek pressed next to his heart. They had talked for several hours of the journey, getting to know one another better. He’d shared how long it would take to get to Shorecrest and a bit about the estate, including the repairs he wanted to make to several of the tenants’ cottages. Repairs that her money would buy.

  Marcus still reeled with what he had learned at her solicitor’s office. He’d taken Mr. Afton with him. The two solicitors knew one another and it made for a friendly meeting. The first issue they’d addressed was Lady Emma’s dowry. He’d expected it to be large and it was considerable, almost double what the wealthiest girl of this Season had available to her future husband. He’d wondered what Mrs. Dove-Lyon had claimed of it as her portion. It wouldn’t matter because what was coming to him was sizeable. He’d quickly begun thinking which debts should be paid first and how much he might set aside to invest, getting Jeremy St. Clair’s advice on what to do.

  He still would speak with Jeremy regarding investments but Marcus no longer had to worry about sliding money around because he had scads of it. Mr. Crenshaw, Emma’s solicitor, had shared with him that not only would the settlements reflect the healthy dowry but also the other monies that came with his marriage. He thought for a moment that with Emma being a daughter and only child, some funds might have been settled on her by her father. To his amazement, Marcus would be receiving tenfold of her dowry. No pennies would need to be pinched. He could make every improvement he wished at Shorecrest. Pay every debt owed by his father. Buy the fanciest townhouse he could find in London. He could furnish it in the best way. Purchase a gleaming new carriage and the best set of matched horses to pull it. It was as if he were the impoverished Aladdin and had rubbed his magic ring, causing its genie to appear and grant his every wish, so great was what his new wife brought to the marriage.

  Marcus had questioned Crenshaw repeatedly. The man said the information was privileged and he could only reveal the sum going to Marcus, thanks to his marr
iage to Emma. The solicitors wrote out the contracts and they were signed. By the time he returned from his honeymoon, his bank account would be as fat as a hog ready for slaughter at Christmas.

  It troubled him that Emma dressed as an upper servant and yet had before her marriage had access to untold wealth. The dress she’d worn when she interviewed him had been serviceable but years out of fashion. The same was true for the traveling dress she had changed into for this journey. Only her wedding gown had been appropriate. He wondered why she hadn’t spent any of the money on herself.

  And why she thought no gentleman of the ton wouldn’t wed her.

  Marcus would never ask her, though. He’d meant what he’d told her. Their pasts weren’t things to be dredged up. His father had almost ruined the family name with his bad investments and rash gambling. Who knew what Emma’s father—or mother—had done to make her believe she wasn’t capable of making a good match? Neither of them should suffer or worry about what had led them to make a desperate effort, driving them both to The Lyon’s Den to find a spouse.

  As far as he was concerned, the past was dead and buried. They had today and all their tomorrows. He would never ask her to reveal anything to him. Frankly, he hoped she never told him. Thomas Gray’s poem had declared ignorance is bliss. Marcus hoped he and Emma would find happiness together. He thought it possible. She had been delightful to converse with on their present journey, very bright and even curious about so many things at Shorecrest. He’d also been pulled aside by Amanda and the Duchess of Everton. Both women had told him he’d made an excellent choice in a bride. He wanted to be a good husband to her. A good father to their children.

  She stirred against him and he thought of their kiss. Her first one. Marcus had conjured up the kiss many times in the past few days. Emma might have no experience but a passionate creature lay within her. Their kiss had awakened this sleeping dragon. He looked forward to exploring lovemaking with her.

  The vehicle began slowing and he jostled her shoulder gently. She blinked several times.

  “We’re here.”

  “The inn we’ll stay at tonight?” she asked, her voice shaking.