Page 29 of Only a Lyon Will Do
Florinda couldn’t fathom who this poor woman might be that Asher had taken a liking to, but she couldn’t spare much worry for a stranger when she was so busy fearing for her own life. She kept her silence, staying in the back of the room hoping Oliver would forget about her.
He downed his drink, picked up his coat and said something about getting his final revenge this very night. Thankfully, he left slamming the front door behind him.
Florinda wasted no time putting the lock into place the moment he left. She quickly ran around the house ensuring any entrance was now barred so Oliver wouldn’t be able to get in so easily if he returned. She then went back to the front parlor and pulled the bell cord. When a servant answered her summons,Florinda asked the girl to have someone fetch a constable. She had information to give him.
Chapter Twenty-One
Patience woke witha start. Something had disturbed her sleep, but she wasn’t sure what the cause was. Now that she was awake, she took a moment to adjust her awkward position. Sleeping in a chair in Asher’s bedroom wasn’t exactly conducive to a good night’s rest. She rubbed at the back of her neck and then went to check on her patient who was still sound asleep.
Another sound downstairs echoed throughout the house. Patience grew concerned that a burglar was ransacking the downstair floors when she heard the distinct sound of breaking glass. She looked around trying to find something to protect herself and Asher with in the event the prowler made his way upstairs. The book she had been reading earlier wouldn’t be much help but the poker standing next to the hearth might do the trick. She ran toward the object and picked it up, holding it before her like a Viking Shieldmaiden protecting herself and her loved ones.
Footsteps came closer along with the sounds of doors being yanked open and slammed shut as the perpetrator drew near. Whoever it was, they were clearly looking for something—or someone—in particular. With both hands gripping the poker, Patience held her stance at the foot of Asher’s bed whocontinued to slumber on. The door burst open, and Patience took a swing at the unsuspecting foe. But her aim was off, her wild swing failing to connect. And worse, the poker was easily wrenched from her hands. Her arms were taken in a firm grip, and she was brought forward to stare at none other than Oliver Pitt.
“There you are, my pet. I was wondering when I would find you,” Oliver sneered, and Patience turned her head from his offensive breath. He had been drinking and heavily.
“Let me go,” she ordered but Oliver only tightened his hold on her arm.
His eyes traveled down the length of her body. He ignored her struggles, but the slight movement on the bed succeeded in drawing Oliver’s attention away from her. He pushed her away and went to stand at the foot of Asher’s bed.
“Protecting your man like a lioness, I see,” he snarled. “But no matter. I came to finish what I started the other night.”
“You?” Patience said aghast. “You did this to Asher?”
“He’s been a thorn in my side for most of my life. I saw an opportunity to get rid of him and I took it,” he replied with a leering grin. “Too bad he didn’t die in that alleyway but I’ll finish him off for good this time.”
Patience didn’t even think about what she was doing and instead shrieked in outrage. Flinging herself at Oliver, she raked her nails down his face and had a moment of satisfaction when he heard him howl in pain.
“You bitch,” he screamed holding his wounded cheek with his hand before he swung his open palm in her direction. His slap echoed in the room while Patience went flying onto the bed with her cheek burning from the impact of his slap. Asher moaned when she landed upon him.
“Patience?” Asher whispered her name in confusion.
“Not now, dearest. We have company,” she said while sliding over to his uninjured side.
“What are—”
“I’ll kill you both just to shut the two of you up,” Oliver howled before he stepped forward. Patience leaned over Asher to protect him with her body.
But Pitt didn’t get far as a loud clang resounded. A low grunt echoed in the room and then the sound of a body thudding as it fell to the floor. Patience opened her eyes to see Cassandra standing there in her night rail holding a cast iron skillet in both hands. Her chest heaved as she took a couple of deep breaths to calm herself.
“No one breaks into my house and threatens my guest and best friend,” Cassandra said lifting her chin. Her butler poked his head into the room. “We have a burglar in the house, Higgins. Please send word for a constable to come fetch this man.”
“Right away, Mrs. Vaughn,” Higgins replied before he left.
Cassandra went to the drapery and pulled at a curtain cord. Giving it a tug, she held one end out to Patience. “Let’s tie this beast up before he wakes up and tries to cause more havoc.”
Asher took Patience’s wrist before she got up from the bed. “Be careful, my love,” he said quietly.
Patience nodded and went to the man who had been knocked out cold. The two women quickly tied the villain up. Patience went around the room to light the candles so they could see better.
Higgins returned faster than expected with a constable in tow. The man came through the door and took one look at Oliver on the floor who was beginning to awaken.
“Is everyone unharmed here?” the officer asked looking around the room.
Patience helped Asher sit up in the bed and then pulled a chair next to the bed.
Asher now saw who was on the floor. “I remember,” he said turning his gaze to Patience. “Pitt is the one who stabbed me outside of the Lyon’s Den after he had his goons beat me up.”
Patience squeezed Asher’s hand. “Apparently, he was here to finish the job, or so he was boasting. I’m not exactly sure what he had planned for me but I’m glad nothing will now come of it.”
