Page 3 of Rogue Lyon

“Has she found another match for you?”

“No, sadly, that endeavor has come to an end.”

“Oh, no.” Nancy reached for her hand and squeezed. “Does that mean you have to return home?”

“No, we have come to an arrangement so that I can stay.”

Nancy’s frown deepened. “You have…? I mean, that’s wonderful. What is the arrangement, though?”

“I am to work.” Meredith gestured in the direction of the casino. “In there, at a table.”

Nancy’s eyes widened. “But…I mean…can you? It’s not easy!”

“Yes, I will not have a problem with the work.”

“Why, you dark horse, you.” Nancy laughed. “Bethany always says to watch the quiet ones.”

Meredith laughed. “Perhaps that is true. But my father, he taught me many parlor room games, including all the card games.”

“Good to hear.” Nancy tapped her chin with her index finger and studied Meredith. “And what are you going to wear? That neckline covers even your throat. Mrs. Dove-Lyon will not like that attire for her exclusive club.”

“I know and I…”

“Need help.” Nancy linked her arm with Meredith’s. “Of course you do. Come on, I know just the thing and it’s hanging in my wardrobe.”

As the sun began to dip toward the chimney pots and church spires of London, Meredith studied herself in the mirror. Aside from the reflection of her small, attic room—sloping roof, one lead-paned window to the west, a single bed, and walnut wardrobe—she saw herself anew.

Nancy had been a busy bee and bossy besides. She’d insisted Meredith wear a bright, canary-yellow dress with a neckline that sat midway between her bosom and her throat. In that gap now sat three strings of pearly beads and they shimmered against Meredith’s pale flesh.

Her cheeks weren’t pale, not anymore; they were rosy red, as were her lips, and her hair was piled on top of her head, a few spiral curls hanging down between her cheeks and her ears.

“Mother wouldn’t recognize me,” she muttered. Meredith had never had much interest in fashion and this long, straight dress was the epitome of present-day styling, according to Nancy. The same for the hairstyle and the darkness of her eyebrows created by heating a clove and drawing atop her fair hairs.

She took a deep breath and sent a small prayer heavenward to her father. She hoped that she’d remember all that he’d taught her while he’d been sick in bed, weak and coughing, but never too tired to spend time with her. Quiet pastimes of cards and chess had become their favorite thing for over a year, and it hadn’t mattered to her one bit if he’d nodded off mid-game. She’d just waited. She’d had time, even if he hadn’t.

There was a knock at the door. “Meredith, are you ready?”

“Coming, Nancy.” Meredith smoothed her palms down the silky material of her dress and took a deep breath. “You can do this. You know you can.”

With her determination set and feeling as though her father were cheering her on, she left the room and headed down the flights of stairs with Nancy.

“I like your dress,” she said to Nancy. “Pink really suits you.”

“Thank you. It’s new.” Nancy grinned and checked her neckline. It was lower than Meredith’s and the first rise of her breasts was clearly visible. “Sure to go down well with the clients.”

“Who is on display tonight?”

“Sydney. He’s due an outing and the punters love the color of his skin.”

“He will match my dress.” Meredith giggled. “Don’t put him around my neck; he will disappear.”

“Or is it because you are scared of him?”

“Not scared…” Meredith shrugged. “Wary, as God intended when it comes to snakes.”

Nancy wagged her finger. “Don’t let Sydney hear you call him a ‘snake.’ He’s a python, don’t you know.” She laughed. “The clients always enjoy seeing him, though very few touch him. I guess men aren’t as brave as they let on.”

“Mmm.” Meredith shrugged. “I just hope they are well-behaved tonight. The men, that is.”