Page 11 of Only a Lyon Will Do
One of his brows rose. “Since I haven’t visited in quite a while, I figured it was best for us to part ways. This would allow both of us to… move on with our lives.”
Florinda could take that to mean several things, but she wished to know for sure. “You’re getting married?”
“Eventually, yes, and having a mistress on the side goes against even my tainted morals.”
“You were anything but tainted, Asher.”
He shrugged and strode across the room. “I won’t take up any more of your time so you might return to your… guest.”
“Asher…” She felt as though she should say something more to this man. He had been an excellent lover, but she had realized long ago that he was never going to marry her, much to her regret. At one time she had hoped for such an outcome, but it had been a foolish fancy. The most she could have hoped for was that their affair would continue indefinitely, but he wasn’t the sort of man to continue keeping a mistress once he had decided to settle down and seek a wife.
He pointed to the bank draft she held in her hand. “That settlement buys your silence, Florinda. I expect you to keep your promise that you gave me when we first made our arrangement not to go around spreading gossip on the brief time we were together.”
“I’ve never said anything against you, Asher,” she said in a huff of anger. “I’ve sat here for over a month wondering when you might drop by.”
“And you will no longer have to do so. Besides… I believe you have already found my replacement. I wish you all the best with whomever he might be.”
Asher didn’t wait for any reply. Instead, he strode into the foyer to retrieve his hat and let himself out without another word. Florinda could only stare at the wooden portal in stunned silence. She shouldn’t feel anger towards a man who had chosen to treat her generously, even when faced with her infidelity, but a small part of her was outraged. How dare he just pay her money and leave without even a hint that she had meant something to him!
She returned to her bedroom in a huff almost forgetting that Oliver was still in her bed until he threw back the covers and strode across the room. Admiration at his naked body filled her, and when he tore off her robe and crushed her body into his, she gave a sigh of pleasure.
“Are the two of you over?”
“Yes.”
“It’s about damn time,” he breathed into her ear. “Now… Where were we before you had to leave?”
His lips slid across her own and her arms went around his neck. She held onto him when he lifted her and took her back to bed. Any other thoughts of Asher left her and she gave the man above her, her undivided attention. He was, after all, more than ready to prove that Asher was no longer in her life and Oliver… Oliver knew just what she needed right this instant.
Chapter Eight
Asher’s gazed traveledto the women’s gallery on the upper floor of the Lyon’s Den for what seemed like the hundredth time. He had noticed his Persephone on the balcony earlier in the evening. She had even tilted her head in a slight nod when their eyes had locked. He had been wracking his brain for over a week trying to remember even a glimpse of this lady in the past Season so that he might know where to seek her out, but to no avail. It was as though she had just appeared from nowhere. And yet, for whatever reason, this woman filled his head both day and night.
Why? He obviously didn’t know her nor had he spent more than a few minutes in her company. But there was just something about the lady that intrigued him. There were not many of his acquaintance who would give as good as they received from his teasing. Most of the women his mother put in his path had one thing on their mind and that was to marry a man with a title. Generally, any title would do and an earl was a good a catch as any. Far from bantering with him, those ladies were eager to agree with anything he said, no matter how outlandish it might be.
Perhaps that was why he found every last one of them dull as dishwater. None of them had ever left any sort of an impressionon him, nor had he felt anything toward them other than mild distaste. He far preferred the company of women like Florinda. While she, too, had been flatly accommodating and agreeable, at least the activities he enjoyed with her held his interest. Asher had been enjoying his life as a bachelor despite how Saxton and Wickes spewed how married life now suited them. As far as Asher was concerned, there were more women to please in the world and he would make his way through a number of them if he could…
Until now… the voice inside his head whispered as he watched the very lady who had filled his thoughts of late being escorted by two wolves to the entrance to the garden. Asher watched her disappear through the doorway and something lurched in his gut. If Persephone were downstairs it could only mean one thing. The Widow of Whitehall had found the lady a match.
“My lord, will you place your bet?” Mustardseed inquired with a nod toward the table. It always amused Asher that all the dealers were named after characters from Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s favorite playA Midsummer Night’s Dream.
Asher tossed in his bet not paying the least bit of attention to the cards he had been dealt. He finally gathered the cards and fanned them out in his fingers, hiding the frown threatening to give away his hand. He had nothing. Not even a pair. As he looked up into the eyes of the dealer, he knew the game had been rigged.
He tapped the cards on the velvet table and returned his attention to the entrance of the garden. This time he couldn’t hold back the scowl that raced across his features. The Earl of Carrington adjusted his waistcoat, and ran his fingers through his black hair, before he walked through the entryway. He didn’t appear any happier than Asher was. Asher could only ponderwhat arrangement Valentine had made with the Widow of Whitehall overhisPersephone.
Mustardseed asking the two men at the table to show their hands took Asher out of his musings. He fanned out his losing hand. The man sitting across from him gave him a smirk.
“Bad luck that, Rowley,” Oliver Pitt said as he pulled the coins toward his growing pile of winnings.
Asher stood, his purse all the lighter from another round of bad cards. “I’ve had better nights,” he replied. Maybe he needed a drink to wash away any further bad karma that might be headed his way.
“Hurts to lose something you once had, doesn’t it?” Oliver taunted causing Asher’s eyes to narrow. The man’s words sounded a little too knowing.
“What is that supposed to mean?” he asked as curiosity got the better of him.
Oliver stood and went to stand next to Asher. He leaned in so his words would be heard by Asher alone. “I’m not certain how you could let a woman like Florinda go but I thank you for it. Best sex I’ve had in years.”
Pitt gave a hard smack on Asher’s shoulder before he left him standing there alone. Not that Asher cared. He had been aware that Florinda was seeing someone else. That was one of the reasons why he hadn’t visited her of late. He wasn’t one to be second to anyone and least of all another lover of his mistress.
