Page 3 of Only a Lyon Will Do
“I was just thinking that this place will be lonely without you,” Cassandra said giving her a weak smile. “I will miss your friendship.”
Patience waved her hand in the air. “Whatever are you talking about, Cassie? I’m not going anywhere except to the Lyon’s Den with you tonight.”
“Yes… but tomorrow will be a new day when we set into motion your return to polite Society.”
“Bah! I was neverinSociety, and you know it. I was a shopkeeper’s daughter and then a soldier’s wife. I hardly rubbed elbows with theton.” Patience stood and went to the window taking up Cassandra’s original position, feeling unsettled at the idea of rising to a level of society she had never known before. Maybe this plan wasn’t such a good idea after all. Pulling back the drapery revealed nothing but the darkness of the night. She let go of the material as it floated back into place.
Cassandra also stood and rang a bell. When a servant came to the parlor entrance, she asked to have her carriage be brought to the front from the mews. “You leave all the arrangements to me. My plans haven’t failed yet, have they?”
Patience snapped open the fan dangling from her wrist. “You know that I trust you more than anyone, but do not forget that I am different than Moriah and Josephine. They at least had connections and grew up within Society. If you and Mrs. Dove-Lyon think you’ll fetch me some titled lord, then you both have been tipping one too many sherries.”
Cassandra gave a laugh. “We shall see…”
Patience followed along as Cassandra whisked her into the foyer, helped her don her pelisse, and took her arm as they went down the walkway to the waiting carriage. She could only wonder what the night at the notorious Lyon’s Den might bring her.
Chapter Three
Asher lounged backon the velvet-covered chaise, a glass in one hand and a cigar in the other. Amusement flitted across his face as he watched Simon stagger across the room before he fell into a nearby chair. Asher had bet Simon wouldn’t be able to perform with one of the women upstairs considering the amount of alcohol he’d consumed. Simon had retorted that he hadn’t hadthatmuch to drink and taunted Asher so much about his abilities to perform that the two men had left the tables together and paid for the pleasure for two of Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s… ladies. The prostitutes at the Lyon’s Den were not your typical women of the night that you might find elsewhere in London. As with everything else at this establishment, these women were of the highest caliber.
A blonde-haired beauty with her bosom spilling from the gown came and sat directly in his lap. He sat back to enjoy her attentions, knowing that his chances for such pleasures would be severely limited once he took over his brother’s care.
The woman began untying his cravat with an expertise that showed that she knew her way around an intricate knot. She smiled warmly into his eyes with a promise of what was to come.She ran her fingertips through his blonde hair before she leaned forward to breathe into his ear.
“Can we leave your friend and head to my room, my lord?” she purred sweetly.
Asher put down his glass and cigar on the nearby table before he pulled her close. “You must have read my mind, my dear,” he replied with a wicked grin. He tried to claim her lips, but she suddenly pulled back.
“No kissing. That’s too personal,” she warned before she began opening his shirt. Those same silken fingers ran over his slightly furred chest as if to distract him from attempting to kiss her again.
“But I paid well for the privilege to have you,” he declared taking her about the waist.
“Yes… and you shall have me anyway you’d like—but no kissing,” the woman replied.
“What if I pay you more?” he asked.
Her eyes went wide. “You couldn’t pay me enough to break my one rule.”
“I’ve been told I’m a fair enough kisser. You might just like it and not ask for the extra coin,” he teased her.
“No man isthatgood,” she said laughing.
“Care to put my ability to the test?” he asked lowering his eyes to her mouth. She licked her lips as though giving the suggestion a fair amount of thought. She gave him a smile as if she would concede and began lowering her head.
The door to the salon burst open and Asher frowned at the interruption.
“I told you I’d find them here,” Lucius muttered to the two men who followed him into the room. Valentine, Earl of Carrington was a friend of Lucius’s. They had met on several occasions over the years. The other gentleman was Benjamin Barclay, Earl of Somerford, whom Asher knew only from seeinghim from time to time at the Lyon’s Den and various other places around town.
“Ben!” Simon yelled from across the room. “Come join us in a bit of sport.”
“I think not,” Benjamin declared before he turned back to Lucius and Valentine. “I think the Earl of Rockliffe is in more need of our aid than your friend.”
Lucius nodded and returned his gaze back to Asher. “If you’re done here, your presence has been requested.”
Asher laughed, fondling the woman who remained on his lap. “Done here? We’ve barely begun.”
Lucius crossed the room and held out his hand to the woman. Her fingers slipped into his, and he pulled her to her feet. “If you would give us a moment,” Lucius insisted focusing on Asher who took up his glass again.
“Of course, my lord,” she said seductively. Her hand lingered on his arm before she crossed the large room to stand near a sideboard where she poured herself a drink.
