Page 37 of Pride of Lyons

“I am sorry, Lady Danford, that I couldn’t give you more notice, but the matter came upon me suddenly.” Honoria darted a glance at Lord Danford, who had gone pale. “I understand my sister-in-law explained the situation to you.” His wife’s voice hardened. “I hope that was sufficient to preserve the niceties.”

“I suppose it must be, Honoria.” Lady Danford’s scorn was unconcealed.

His wife raised her chin. “Although you may not like it, Caroline, I am Lady Braeton now. I trust, however, that you will respect my rank as much as I do yours.”

While the lady was recovering from that set down, Honoria turned to Lord Danford, and Thomas gripped her arm, still looped through his. “My lord, I see you are recovering from some horrible wound.”

Thomas’s gaze met Danford’s. The man was white as bleached parchment and looked as though he wished to turn and run. That would not be possible, however, so he merely nodded, though his eyes darted about like a hunted animal.

“Yes, my lady. I am.” He was, in fact, leaning heavily on a cane, as though his leg might give out on him at any moment. “It pains me greatly.” Danford glanced at Thomas, then back to Honoria, and took a ragged breath. “But I am recovering, thank God. I thought for a time I would not.”

“Somehow he managed to trip while out shooting more than a month ago, shot his own leg, and almost bled to death.” Lady Danford’s demeanor had softened. “The doctor says I am lucky to still have him with me.”

“Then I am happy you were spared, my lord.” Honoria met his gaze briefly.

“You must take more care the next time you shoot.” She then turned to Thomas. “My dear, I fear I am much fatigued after all the dancing. Perhaps we should take our leave now.”

In absolute awe of his wife, Thomas could not have been in more agreement. “If you wish it, my dear, we will indeed. Lord Danford, Lady Danford.” He nodded to them.

“My lord, my lady.” Honoria curtsied, and Thomas led her toward the entrance.

“Apparently, Danford has managed to keep his real activities hidden from his wife.” Thomas had expected nothing less from the devious man.

“He may not have told her, but she suspects all is not well.” Honoria nodded sagely. “Women know.”

They stopped in a tiny alcove just outside the door to the ballroom. “Do you truly wish to leave, my love?” Thomas had an idea she’d made the excuse simply to get away from the tense situation, although she’d managed the awkwardness beautifully.

“I do, my love. I am fatigued.” She looked up at him, a small smile on her lips. “Although I fear I will be more and more fatigued now.”

“Well, a good night’s sleep will likely take care of that, love.” Thomas peered around, looking for Lady Longford to take their leave of her.

“This is a different kind of fatigue, Thomas.” She stopped him and gazed lovingly into his face. “The kind that comes because I am carrying your child.”

It took a moment for her words to penetrate his mind, then his mouth dropped open, and his gaze snapped to her abdomen, hidden of course by her yellow silk gown. “What?” He couldn’t have heard her correctly. “Honoria, what did you say?”

Her whole face beaming, she took his hand and placed it on her stomach. “You cannot tell it at all, but I believe it is true. I’ve not had my courses since we wed. It is early days yet, but something tells me that I am carrying your child.”

“Oh, Honoria.” He enfolded her in his arms. If this were true, his happiness was complete. “My love, that is the best news I could receive.” He stood back, smiling so widely his cheeks hurt. A glance around showed no one in sight, so he placed his hand back on her stomach. “Hello, little one. You must be a good boy for your mother.”

“What if it’s a girl?” Honoria laughed.

“If it’s a girl, she can do whatever she wishes.” Thomas moved his hand to cup her face. “Because I will be able to deny her nothing. Just like her mother.”

Epilogue

The carriage pulled to a halt outside the distinctive blue building on Cleveland Row, and Thomas hastily climbed down, eager to discharge this final duty. Possibly the last place he’d expected to be on a beautiful day in late July was outside the Lyons’s Den, about to meet with Mrs. Dove-Lyons once more. Not that the lady knew of his coming. This was a surprise visit.

“Wait here, Crupps. I’m certain I won’t be long.”

“Very good, my lord.”

Thomas turned to go into the loathsome establishment when a clatter of heels on the sidewalk to the side of the building caught his attention. Moments later, a young woman with bright red hair flying about her head, her face streaked with tears ran past him, jumped into a waiting hack, and drove away at a fast clip.

Well, the Lyon’s Den seemed not to have changed at all. Some drama always brewing here.

Thomas shook off the image of the young lady’s miserable face, and proceeded into the gambling den, greeting the two guards as he entered the building. He quickly located Demetrius and made his request to speak with Mrs. Dove-Lyon. The escort snagged a passing footman, spoke briefly to him, and the man hurried off. After a short wait, the footman returned, nodded, and Demetrius showed Thomas upstairs to the woman’s private office.

“Mrs. D, Lord Braeton to see you.” The huge man opened the door for Thomas, then swung it closed, leaving him alone with the figure shrouded in black, standing behind the desk Thomas remembered well.