“I completely understand, my lord,” she replied with a nod of her head. While the man before her was handsome, Violet couldn’t see herself in the role of his wife in her future even if he hadn’t declared he wasn’t ready to be married. She was wondering why Mrs. Dove-Lyonwas wasting both of their time with this meeting, however.
He appeared relieved at her words. “Perhaps you might indulge me, if I could be so forward, and ask that you continue to spend the appointed time with me. This would fulfill my debt to Mrs. Dove-Lyon and perhaps we could be friends at the very least,” he suggested with a smile that seemed sincere.
“I would be more than happy to talk with you and ensure your debt is erased, my lord,” Violet said with a small, genuine smile that she hoped portrayed that she was amicable to becoming friends.
“I am grateful for your understanding, Miss Barnet. So let us begin to get to know one another. Tell me about yourself and why you are here,” he encouraged with a wave of his hand.
“My cousin, the Countess of Rowley, set this up for me,” she began while the marquess appeared amused.
“This sounds interesting and knowing her husband as I do, I’m intrigued… Tell me more,” he said with a wink.
She gave another light laugh and began telling her story. As their conversation continued, she knew she had indeed found a friend with the marquess. She could only wonder who might enter the garden next and if having a conversation with him would be just as pleasant.
Chapter Eleven
Gideon mindlessly tossedseveral coins into the growing pot of bids on the table. He barely heard the dealer ask the gentlemen playing to reveal their cards.
He was distracted. How couldn’t he be, when he’d observed a bouncer from the main gambling floor escort a certain unknown lady into the garden area that Gideon was well aware was used for men and women to meet each other as potential prospects for marriage. He would like nothing more than to throttle the bouncer for bringing the woman down to meet whomever Mrs. Dove-Lyon had in mind for the lady.
He frowned, watching the bouncer called Lysander now standing guard at the entrance. Mrs. Dove-Lyon certainly was amusing considering all her main employee names were from her favorite play,A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
A cheer rang out from the gentleman who won the round and Gideon watched as his losing cards were scooped up by the dealer and the pile of coins was pushed toward the winner. One man grumbled he was finished and left. His seat didn’t remain empty and Gideon held back his annoyance when Cosmo Dawkes took his place.
“Looks like I arrived just in time to take the rest of your money, gentlemen,” Dawkes drawled confidently.
“Gentlemen, place your bets,” the dealer named Moth announced before shuffling the deck of cards. Once the men tossed in their coins, he began dealing.
Gideon stared at his hand. It was hard not to show his displeasure considering there was nothing that he had been dealt of any worth. Moth began going around the table asking each player how many cards they would exchange. When he turned to Gideon he held up three fingers.
A chuckle left Dawkes. “That bad, eh, captain?” he sniggered.
Gideon didn’t bother to comment but instead picked up his cards. The replacements weren’t any better than what he had previously held. He folded and waited for the next round to begin. Reaching for his brandy, he took a sip and felt a bit of ease as the liquor slid down his throat. But the feeling didn’t last long when he observed the Marquess of Sommerset entering the room. He must have lost a considerable amount of money to Mrs. Dove-Lyon to be roped into a potential match. Knowing Sommerset as he did, Gideon was confident that the marquess wasn’t happy with the situation, either.
Play resumed with a new hand and once again Gideon made a bet without really paying any attention to the game. He should have been more receptive to what was going on around him but he was more interested in who went into the garden after the marquess.
The next gentleman who went into the garden after the marquess was a fleshy baron who was probably twice the lady’s age, and then Viscount Coppinger, a skeletal man with long, bowed legs and stick-like arms with jutting elbows. He almost felt relieved, as neither of those men could possibly appeal to the beautiful blonde. But then Lord Cedric Pendleton, who was whole, hearty, and handsome, went into the garden and didn’t immediately return.
It was only when Moth’s voice penetrated Gideon’s head aboutshowing their hands that he became aware he was still playing a game of cards. He had been so preoccupied with who went in and out of the garden, that Gideon had been playing by pure instinct. Not a wise choice given he was at the Lyon’s Den. He quickly glanced at his cards and made every attempt not to scowl. There was no magic in the world where he could change the outcome of his hand, and the pile of coins in the center of table was considerable.
He flipped his losing hand over on the green felt table and reached for the near empty drink to gulp down the contents in one sip. The other players also revealed their hands but it was the smirk of satisfaction on Dawkes’s face that made Gideon cringe. Dawkes revealed his hand one card at a time before Moth declared him the winner. The dealer then began to retrieve everyone’s cards as Dawkes took the pot of coins. Of all the people Gideon had to lose to, it just had to be Dawkes.
Once all the cards had been retrieved by Moth, Gideon realized he had lost a considerable number of coins at one table. In fact, he had spent the entire amount he had brought with him for his evening entertainment. He rose from the table, knowing he would not go into debt just to save face. Clearly, the house would be the winner tonight and gambling was not in his favor.
“Leaving so soon?” Dawkes taunted sarcastically.
Gideon had no plans to take the bait and instead gave a nod to the rest of the players. “May your hands be better than mine were tonight, gentlemen.” He went in search of another drink and to find where Leopold was playing. He found his friend at another table. As a servant passed by with a full tray of brandies, Gideon grabbed one then watched as Leopold was dealt a hand. His eyes were drawn to the entrance to the garden when another gentleman—one he didn’t know—left the area adjusting his cravat as though loosening a noose which had found its way around his neck.
A disgruntled gambler making a ruckus in the middle of thegambling floor drew Gideon’s attention. Before anyone could intervene, the man began shouting and then upended the table at which he had been playing. Then he lunged at one of the other players and fists began to fly in all directions. Several bouncers ran into the fray, including Lysander, who had been guarding the entrance to the garden. The lady was left unguarded.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, Gideon saw Dawkes meander into the area and he scowled as the sensation in his gut warned him that Dawkes wasn’t one of Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s prospects for the lady waiting within. The man had had a reputation for poorly treating the women who followed the men at camp. Now, Gideon knew beyond a shadow of doubt that the lady in the garden just might be in need of rescuing.
Chapter Twelve
Violet began tohave her doubts that Mrs. Dove-Lyon would be able to find someone who might be considered husband material. And while the Marquess of Sommerset had been interesting and a pleasant conversationalist, there was nothing between them that might ignite a spark of affection other than friendship. Considering he had been upfront in the very beginning of their conversation regarding his idea of marriage in his near future, Violet wasn’t in the least surprised when their appointed hour came to an end. He had politely excused himself after wishing her the very best. The next two gentlemen who entered didn’t hold even the slightest bit of interest and Violet became bored with attempting to hold any sort of a conversation with either of them. Clearly, they would never do.
After the last gentleman left, she heard a commotion in the outer room and could only wonder at what was going on. From the little she knew of the Lyon’s Den, this disruption in an evening’s entertainment for the gentleman seemed highly irregular. When she noticed Lysander leaving his post, Violet knew that something was terribly wrong and this was reaffirmed when she began to hear shouting and possibly a table being upended. She was about to go to the entrance toappease her curiosity, when the next gentleman arrived.
The dark-haired man who sauntered confidently into the garden set an alarm off inside Violet for some unknown reason. Was it his swagger that put her off or the cocky grin that was plastered on his face? She could not say for certain why she was immediately on her guard other than she felt uncomfortable in his presence. She automatically took a step backward until she unexpectedly felt the edge of the fountain behind her knees. Thrown off balance, she began to fall. He quickly rushed forward to grab her arm and to pull her forward to prevent her fall from grace. His arm swept around her waist to steady her and because of his proximity, she placed her hands automatically on his chest. Thankfully, her descent into the fountain had been prevented; he should have immediately let her go once she gained her feet. But when he continued to hold her close, something shifted in her and she became fully aware of how inappropriate his actions had become.
