Page 11 of The Lyon’s Paw

After a pause, her aunt’s soft voice broke the silence. “Have you given any more thought to Lord Longford?”

Diana sat bolt upright and shot a look at her aunt. “How could you even suggest such a thing, Aunt Frances? You were there. You saw what happened. What he said to me.” Four months hadn’t been enough time to erase the embarrassment of everyone staring at her, laughing at her. Nor forget Toad Longford saying such awful things to her. It hadn’t been her fault, exactly. At least, she hadn’t meant to push him into the Serpentine. “I would be mortified every time I looked at him.”

“Thirty thousand pounds a year can take away a lot of humiliation, niece.” Her aunt stared calmly back at her. “If he is willing to marry you—”

“But he’s not willing, Aunt Frances. You heard him. We do not wish to marry one another.” Her aunt must think the cause hopeless—as Diana was coming to believe as well—if she would grasp at such a straw as Lord Longford.

“Then what do you make of this?” Her aunt shot her a sly look and retrieved a letter from her reticule. “I received this from Mrs. Dove-Lyon yesterday morning. I’ve not said anything about it because I wanted to wait until Lord Merryweather made his wishes known. Now he has, I think you should read the lady’s letter.” Aunt Frances held the single sheet of paper out to Diana.

Frowning, she took it, folded the edges outward and commenced to reading the small, neat script. As she read her frown smoothed out until she looked at her aunt with hopeful eyes. “But Mrs. Dove-Lyons does not mention Lord Longford at all, aunt. She says only that there has been a development and if I still wish to wed, I should come to her establishment at noon tomorrow.” Diana beamed at her aunt. “This has nothing to do with Lord Longford. There has simply been a ‘development.’ Most likely a new suitor needing a rich wife has presented himself to Mrs. Dove-Lyons so she’s sent to inform me. I’m certain such things happen all the time.” She did wish such things happened to her all the time. If they did, she’d surely have a husband by now. “We must go immediately after luncheon.”

Her aunt rose with a shake of her head. “I truly thought she meant Lord Longford had had a change of heart. Still, whatever the development, it must bode well for you.” Her aunt rang the bell and when the servant appeared, asked for their hats and cloaks.

Surprised, Diana looked at her aunt. “Are we going somewhere?”

“Diana!” Aunt Frances looked at her as though she were mad. “We must go at once to The Lyon’s Den. The letter was sent yesterday.” When Diana looked at her blankly, she shook her head and sighed heavily. “She means for us to come by noon today. It’s already half-past eleven. If we are lucky, we will just make it in time.” Aunt Frances grabbed her arm and tugged her none too gently out into the corridor and toward the foyer.

“Certainly she will wait for us if we are a few minutes late—Ouch!” Diana jerked forward as her aunt clamped down on her arm, propelling her onward at a pace that would have rivaled a soldier’s quick march.

“You don’t know Mrs. Dove-Lyons. She waits for no one. Lucy! Hail a hack for us this instant.” She pulled Diana out the front door, their cloaks clutched in their hands. “There’s no time to waste.”

Pacing back and forth in the cluttered cubby hole Mrs. Dove-Lyons called an office, Geoffrey cursed himself and his luck for about the fiftieth time. He was about to make the ultimate sacrifice and agree to marry a woman who had humiliated him in front of half the ton. Never could he be seen in public with her and not remember that awful day. Never could he trust her not to make a fool of him again. He took a deep breath, trying to dispel his anger before it got the better of him once more. Still, he’d marry her, and do it with a smile if it saved Joanna from becoming the wife of that violent, ill-bred, mongrel Dandridge. The blue walls, papered in a geometric pattern, wavered before Geoffrey’s eyes until he closed them and breathed deeply to calm himself.

It didn’t matter that the man now moved in more illustrious circles—trying to buy his way into a society that wanted badly to shun him. Unfortunately, money did sing a sweet song to those in need and some had succumbed to Dandridge’s siren song and introduced him to a few hostesses. That must be how the man noticed Joanna in the first place, although he couldn’t for the life of him think of where it might have occurred. His sister wasn’t out yet, and so had been allowed to attend only a few entertainments this past Season, and only those held by friends of the family. Geoffrey promised himself that when his estates were safe once more, he’d investigate and discover how this disaster had been allowed to come to pass.

For now, he had to put on his best pleasant face and be as charming as he knew how to be, in order to persuade Miss Edgerton to marry him. Else he had no idea what he was going to do to save his sister.

Sound of a door slamming somewhere in the building made Geoffrey jump and wish for a stiff drink. Thomas had offered to come with him, but Miss Edgerton might take that as a sign of weakness. He had to convince her he could be the man who would make all her dreams come true. Financially, at least. Mrs. Dove-Lyons had informed him of the terms of the will by which the lady would come into a very substantial fortune—if she was willing to marry him to get it. After thinking long and hard about it, he hoped he’d come up with an offer the lady simply couldn’t refuse if she wanted to keep her inheritance.

Geoffrey whirled around at the creak of the office door, opening to admit Mrs. Dove-Lyons, Mrs. Beaumont, and Miss Edgerton, the latter two ladies looking as though they’d been blown in by the wind. He assumed a proud stance and smiled as though he were greeting a long-lost relation. “Mrs. Beaumont, Miss Edgerton, how wonderful to see—”

“Oh, drat.” Miss Edgerton stopped stock still, her whole face turning into a frown. “You were right, aunt. It is only Lord Longford.” She turned to Mrs. Dove-Lyons, impatience in every line of her. “You wrote that there had been a new development, ma’am. Lord Longford is hardly that, as he has already refused to marry me. I truly hoped you had the solution to my predicament. Time is running out, Mrs. Dove-Lyon, and I cannot…” Tears started from her eyes. “I cannot waste…”

Geoffrey stepped forward, removing a handkerchief from his breast pocket, and offering it to the distraught lady. “Allow me, Miss Edgerton. A toad I may be, in your estimation, yet toads do have their uses.”

“Oh, drat.” She snatched the linen from his hand and held it against her streaming eyes. “You weren’t supposed to hear that, my lord.”

“But toads have excellent hearing, my dear. You must lower your voice if you wish for us not to eavesdrop.” The bright blush of red on her cheeks made Geoffrey bite back a smile. This was not time to have fun at her expense—not if he wished his endeavor to have success. “In any case, I am here to help you in any way I can. With both a handkerchief and a proposal.”

Miss Edgerton’s head snapped up, her deep blue eyes seeking out his as steely as though they were rapiers. “We dispensed with that idiocy the last time we met, my lord. I remember we were in accord that we would never consider marrying one another.”

Taking a deep breath, because he remembered conveying those sentiments as well, Geoffrey smiled and shrugged. “Never is such a harsh word, don’t you think? Especially when one’s circumstances can change in the blink of an eye.” He raised an eyebrow. “Or have yours changed for the better? Am I to wish you happy?”

The lady clenched her teeth so tightly Geoffrey could swear he heard a grinding sound from her vicinity. “You are not.”

“Her last hope has turned her down, my lord.” Mrs. Beaumont stepped forward eagerly.

“Aunt Frances!” The startled look of betrayal on Miss Edgerton’s face was nothing short of comical, although Geoffrey fought valiantly to suppress a laugh. “Why would you tell him that?”

“Because your circumstances have changed, Diana. For the worse.” Her aunt stepped forward and took Miss Edgerton by the shoulder. “You do understand that if you do not marry by tomorrow, you will be in possession of a single shilling and the bulk of your uncle’s estate will go to The Magdalen House, according to Mr. Boniface.” She glanced from Mrs. Dove-Lyon to Geoffrey. “Not that those poor women aren’t deserving of comfort, but my niece worked her fingers to the bone for her uncle for years. She deserves comfort as well.”

“I’m certain she does, Mrs. Beaumont.” Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s voice was clipped. “However, she needs, just as the Magdalens do, to help herself if she wants to save her fortune.” She motioned to Geoffrey, who stood straighter. “Lord Longford is willing to make an honorable proposal to her. If she refuses to take it, her future fortunes may still be enriched by her uncle’s beneficence, although through a different means than she might wish.”

Both Mrs. Beaumont and Miss Edgerton turned shocked stares at the figure in black while Geoffrey again had to bite back a laugh at the subtle hint the lady might end up a Magdalen. Just because he was willing to marry Miss Edgerton didn’t mean he wasn’t above enjoying a joke at her expense. “Would you perhaps listen to my proposal, Miss Edgerton, before turning me down so out of hand?”

The lady strode over to the leather chair before Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s desk and flounced down into it. “Do you intend to drop to one knee as is customary, Lord Longford? I myself can do without the dramatics, however if you have set year heart on a proper proposal, I daresay I can manage to live through it.”

More than well aware of the sacrifice he was about to make, Geoffrey strode over to stand in front of the lady whose eyes were snapping sparks like a flint. “I can eagerly dispense with the kneeling part of this proposal, Miss Edgerton. I myself prefer to think of it as a transaction that will form a business partnership, so to speak. We each give up something, but we each receive something we desperately seek in return.”