Chapter Seven
“Good evening, mylords,” the man known as Titan said, when Alexander, Beaufort, and Duncan presented themselves at the gentlemen’s entrance of the infamous gaming hell known as the Lyon’s Den. “I am glad to view your continued recovery, Lord Duncan.”
“Yes,” Duncan said with a nod of gratitude. “Both time and necessity have brought me back to some sense of normalcy.”
“Dining with us again, my lord?” Titan asked politely.
“If it is possible, I have a matter of some importance with which I must speak to Mrs. Dove-Lyon; yet, I do not wish to make a scene of calling upon her,” Duncan said privately. “Perhaps I might just be expressing my gratitude to your mistress for her assistance after my attack. A conference of sorts so others would know of my deep appreciation of her efforts to save my life.”
“Perhaps then,” Titan suggested, “the room set aside as the smoking room while I speak to Mrs. Dove-Lyon. I know the mistress is presently conducting business with another, but such should be completed soon. Mrs. Dove-Lyon is very efficient in that manner.”
Beaufort and Duncan both agreed with the man’s suggestion, though Alexander would prefer to be done with all these small steps that Duncan thought were necessary for them to know success. Both his head and his heart said Miss Moreau was in danger, and Alexander wanted her removed from Honfleur’s oversight, especially since Beaufort and Orson had spoken extensively of their surprise regarding a kiss which had passed between Honfleur’s daughter Lady Caroline and Miss Moreau.
“Honfleur’s daughter was definitely the aggressor,” Orson had declared. “I am not confident Miss Moreau had thought the act pleasurable. She blanched white and then turned red before dropping her eyes in apparent embarrassment. To think of someone so bold in a public house. Quite unbelievable!”
Beaufort observed, “Miss Moreau is at the mercy of, or should we say, the whims of both Honfleur and Lady Caroline. In my opinion, Lady Caroline’s act was one where she was ‘teaching’ Miss Moreau a new behavior, just as the chit chooses which books Miss Moreau may read from those in the lending library. We have all seen this type of behavior previously. When I have watched the house, whenever I view the two of them together, I often have noted how Lady Caroline unexpectedly embraces Miss Moreau or catches her hand, as if she is instructing the girl on how they will proceed together. It is not the first time we have been made cognizant of such behavior. We saw it often at the lower school level and even at university, though, in my opinion, Miss Moreau appears oblivious to what is occurring. As she is at Honfleur’s and, I suppose, also at Lady Caroline’s mercy, she is afraid of losing her relations’ goodwill. She fears being turned out and being on her own, and both the marquis and his daughter will use that fact to their advantage.”
Alexander had often viewed men acting in a similar manner when pursuing a female they meant to seduce, as well as thosemen who “enjoyed” children. More than one society toff had offered both him and Lionel fists full of money, but neither Alexander nor his friend were that hungry or that cold. Yet, his mind asked, “Is Miss Moreau that hungry or that cold? Or that starved for affection?”
Titan had personally shown them to the smoking room and turned them over to Theseus once again, who had drinks delivered. After making polite comments here and there to others in the room, though none of them had a mind to discuss sports or politics, nor women, especially Alexander, they found an empty corner where they might continue their discussion in private. Alexander was simply glad Duncan avoided any conversation regarding Alexander and Theodora’s struggling relationship, especially after Duncan’s last less-than-subtle warning when they had previously called upon the Lyon’s Den.
Soon, Titan returned. “If you are prepared, my lords, so is Mrs. Dove-Lyon. Should I ask several of my men to assist you on the stairs, my lord? I would not have you struggle as you did the last time,” the man said softly.
“Thank you for your consideration, Titan. But enough time has passed that I may manage a flight of stairs. Likely not at a sprint, and I might choose to go a bit slower on the second flight than the first, but I believe I can maneuver them without assistance. And, if not…”
Titan smiled. “You have two sons to assist you.”
A few minutes later, Alexander and Beaufort stationed themselves behind Duncan, very much as he and Orson had done previously. Alexander was surprised at how Duncan had managed the first flight quite easily, but as his lordship had said moments earlier, his pace became slower and more labored on the second flight, but Duncan did not require Alexander’s and Beaufort’s shoulders upon which to lean. At length, they againstood before the door to the woman’s office. Titan knocked and waited for admittance.
“Come,” Mrs. Dove-Lyon finally called. When they entered, the woman was standing behind her desk.
“A very impressive desk!” Alexander thought. “Sets the mood as to who is in charge,” his mind announced, though he had not considered the idea previously.
“Good evening, my lords. Titan says you have an issue of some importance of which you wish to speak to me.”
“We do, ma’am,” Duncan assured.
“Then let us sit.”
Alexander watched as the woman straightened a stack of papers on her desk and placed a clean page on the top, essentially hiding the information the pages held from prying eyes.
Duncan was saying, “You recall Lord Marksman.”
Alexander noted the slight stiffening of the woman’s shoulders, and he wondered what he had executed to earn the woman’s disapproval. There was no means to read her expression, for, even in her office, Mrs. Dove-Lyon still wore the black veil that covered much of her face.
“My lord,” she said graciously, and Alexander nodded his head in acknowledgement.
“And my son, Lord Navan Beaufort,” Duncan said. “Beaufort was one of those who chased my shooter on that fateful night. I was not confident whether you officially took each other’s acquaintance then or not.”
“No, we did not,” Mrs. Dove-Lyon remarked with a hint of welcome in her tone, and, again, Alexander worked hard to keep the frown from his countenance. “You are the Irish lord, are you not?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Beaufort replied respectfully.
“There were a few Beauforts in my family history,” Mrs. Dove-Lyon informed them.
“From what I know of history, the Beauforts who came to England with the Normans were quite prolific in more than one manner,” Alexander’s friend said with a smile. Marksman thought Mrs. Dove-Lyon also smiled, but the veil prevented him from knowing so with any assurance.
The woman said, “I understand Lord Orson and Lady Emma mean to marry in a matter of days. I pray they will know happiness.”
