“Your Grace, this arrived for you just now.” He nodded at the folded note on the tray.
Kit accepted it, then slit the wax seal with a butter knife. He glanced at it, eyes widening, and motioned for Mary to sit.
She did, her curiosity overcoming her desire to be alone with her tears.
Kit, his mouth dropping open, pushed back from the table. “Mary, you must get dressed. Beth, you as well. We must go, and as soon as possible.”
Beth laid her serviette aside. “Where are we going?”
“The Lyon’s Den. Now.”
Sunday, 30 April 1826
The Lyon’s Den
Eleven in the morning
A ragged, throbbingpain consumed Thad’s body, and the least movement brought an unexpected agony. The laudanum that had been spooned into him at regular intervals helped, but it left his brain foggy and the pain merely dulled, not eliminated. He attempted to stretch one leg, the unbroken one, and moaned.
“Ah, he is awake. I think.”
Thad winced.George. Why is George here?
Where is here?
“How long has he been here?”
Not George this time. Deeper.
“Mr. Brothers discovered him on the pavement outside early Saturday morning.”
That voice Thad knew.The Lyon. The Widow of Whitehall. To whom he owed . . . wait . . . did he still owe . . .
“What happened?”
Oh, sweetness! Lady Mary!
“A man to whom he owes a great deal of money decided that Lord Thaddeus would be more useful as a warning to other gamblers.” The Lyon again.
George grunted. “He also didn’t believe Thad would ever pay him.”
The deeper voice sounded again. “Not pay him. Did he not tell him of our agreement?”
Ah. Deeper had to be the Duke of Kirkstone.
A snort. George again. Thad knew that snort of derision. “That agreement is with the Lyon’s Den.”
Silence. Then the sweet voice of Lady Mary came on a whisper. “Mr. Brothers, the agreement is for my brother to pay of all of Lord Thaddeus’s outstanding debts.Allof them.”
More silence. Thad forced opened his eyes, blinking against the light. “I can hear you.”
A soft hand, fingers encased in silk, slipped into his. “Good. Because you have to get well. We have a wedding to plan in the next five days.”
“I do not think—”
“Hush. This time allow me to make the leap of faith.”
Sunday, 30 April 1826
