Page 5 of Only a Lyon Will Do
“The position is with a local doctor who administers his treatments to wealthy patrons in his home so he can bettermanage their care. Wilbur Thornberry is the family doctor for the Worthingtons. The Duke and Duchess highly recommend him.”
Patience still failed to see how this situation might aid in her becoming accepted by the very people who had snubbed her for most of her life. There was great value in nursing, to be sure, and yet she couldn’t imagine it was the kind of task a high society lady would undertake.
“I can see for myself you are still skeptical about working for Dr. Thornberry, but I assure you, he is a good man and is looking for nurses with your skills. He will hold you in the highest esteem and only has the best interests of his patients in mind. There is nothing wrong with lending aid to those who are in need, Mrs. Moore, and this will fit perfectly well into my plans for you,” Mrs. Dove-Lyon said.
Cassandra leaned forward. “This doctor still attends to the Duke and Duchess of Worthington?” she asked confirming that he was well established.
“Yes. If they have no issue with this doctor bringing their children into the world, I see no reason why I, too, can’t trust him.”
Cassandra turned to gaze upon Patience. “What do you think?” she inquired.
Patience nodded her consent. “Very well, as long as you feel this will better my chances.”
“I will send over all the particulars to Mrs. Vaughn’s residence.”
Cassandra smiled. “We cannot thank you enough, Mrs. Dove-Lyon.”
“I am only too happy to help those who are in need of my special abilities,” she proclaimed as she came to a stand. “One last thing, Mrs. Moore.”
“Yes, madam?” Patience said waiting for the rest of her fate to be sealed by this woman.
“Staying with Mrs. Vaughn will not be acceptable for much longer. She will need to be working on her own reputation soon enough. Instead, I suggest you make amends with your family and return to their household. They are good, honest people from what I have been told. It would be in your best interest to reach out to them. Now… best of luck at the tables and enjoy your evening at the Lyon’s Den.”
Her family? Does she honestly think it would be that simple after her father had cut all ties with her? After the shock wore off and the widow left the room, Patience finally took a deep breath and turned to her friend.
“This is far more than I was prepared to take on, Cassie,” Patience confessed. “Whatever made you think I could accept her terms?”
“The Widow of Whitehall is known for her matchmaking skills, Patience. She knows how best to restore tarnished reputations and ensure her clients are matched with their perfect person.”
“I’m just not certain this is going to be worth it. Why do I need a husband anyway? I’m perfectly fine the way things are now,” she huffed.
“You know as well as I that things arenotfine. Not when living with me has made you out to be one of those wicked widows even though that is so far from the truth.”
Patience gave her friend a smirk. “I don’t mind the association, and you know it. Honestly, I’ve rather enjoyed it. It makes me feel like I’m one of theton. The articles in theTeatime Tattlernever mention my low birth. I suppose it makes for a less interesting story to talk of a fallen woman who truly didn’t have very far to fall.”
“Well, we are going to change all that. You’ve already had the worst of what society can bring with its censure and judgment, but I intend to see to it that you finally have the best, as well. I bet by the end of the season, if not before, you’ll be married to at the very least a viscount,” Cassandra said with a bright smile.
The two women left the parlor and Cassandra began telling Patience all about the specifics of what she should and should not do within the Lyon’s Den. There weren’t a lot of rules to follow and Patience didn’t need to worry about running into men, since their gambling took place on a different floor. Aside from the staff working for Mrs. Dove-Lyon, which included a number of women in various roles, the only time ladies and gentlemen encountered one another was when Mrs. Dove-Lyon arranged for their meeting. Both Moriah and Josephine had met their prospective husbands in the Lyon’s Den garden, but she had heard of others who met in a private office or a salon of the widow’s choosing.
After sampling the buffet table and with a flute of champagne in her hand, Patience and Cassandra made their way to the observation gallery on the ladies’ floor where the women could observe the men down below as they gambled the night away. Cassie informed her it was another way to beseenwithout being required to interact, and that sometimes the gallery was private when the Widow of Whitehall was arranging a match. Luckily, such was not the case on this evening, and Patience had a clear view of the men below. The men were the elite of Society. Dukes and marquises. Earls and barons. All men who came to gamble the night away—risking their purses, their pride… or perhaps even more.
She heard Cassandra give a heavy sigh of pleasure and she turned to watch her friend as her gaze traveled to the men below.
“I’ve seen that look before, although I admit it has been some time. Which one of them has you all breathless?” Patience askedas she began scanning the men for a viable candidate. There were so many fine-looking gentlemen in attendance it could have been any number of them.
“Middle table, center of the room with the woman dealer wearing a mask,” Cassandra answered never taking her eyes off her target.
Patience found the table but there were four men sitting there. One she immediately discounted. She couldn’t imagine Cassie would sigh over a bald-headed man who appeared as though he had eaten his way through the entire buffet table. But any one of the other three might be the man she watched.
“Which one?” Patience finally asked.
“He just placed his bet,” Cassandra whispered before she reached for her fan and began fluttering it before her overheated face.
Patience watched the gentlemen who had tossed his bet into the center of the table. Good heavens! That man was beyond handsome, and Patience could understand Cassie’s infatuation. And beyond his fine features and excellent figure, he also had an air of command to him, as if he was accustomed to exerting his will on the world until it reframed itself precisely as he wished. Every strand of his black hair was perfectly in place. His clothing immaculately cut from materials of the highest of quality and showed not the slightest rumple or crease. He tossed his cards on the table when he apparently lost the round, but his look showed that he didn’t care that he had lost a small fortune, and that fascinated Patience. A man like that appeared as though he had the reckless disposition of a daredevil, and despite his good looks and wealth, she wasn’t sure he was the type of man Cassandra should pursue. He would only break her heart… again.
“Who is he?” Patience finally asked.
“Lucius, Earl of Blackthorn.”
