Page 8 of Only a Lyon Will Do
A laugh left the lady across from him. “Oh, Lord Rowley, gentlemen of your age amuse me so. You think you have all the time in the world at your disposal when some of the greatest pleasures life can offer are already passing you by.”
“Like a wife?” he asked and his thoughts immediately went to the lady upstairs he had just bumped into.
“Therightwife, Lord Rowley,” the widow proclaimed sitting forward at her desk. “You will not find her upstairs with the women whose company you pay for, nor with any mistress you might keep.”
Of course, this woman would know he had paid for the pleasure of an interlude with one of her ladies on the third floor.“I don’t have a mistress, not that that is any of your business,” he lied knowing he had been thinking of letting Florinda go. She had become demanding of late, which was the reason why he hadn’t visited her townhouse for some time.
She waved a black-gloved hand in the air. “I make it my business to know the particulars of each and every man and woman who walks into the Lyon’s Den—including their current entanglements. Hopefully your plans include releasing Mrs. Pickering from your arrangements with her at your earliest convenience.”
Damn! Of course, Mrs. Dove-Lyon knew about Florinda the intrusive woman. “Again… this is none of your business.”
The woman sat back in her chair. “I understand. You think I’m a meddlesome woman who is trying to upend your life.”
“I would never voice such a thought aloud,” Asher replied knowing he had in fact thought just that.
A weary sigh emitted through the blackest veil he had ever seen on a widow. Her head tilted as though she were weighing her options where he was concerned and he pondered what else she might have in store for him.
“Very well, Lord Rowley. Perhaps you’re not the man I thought you to be,” Mrs. Dove-Lyon said quietly.
“Are you insulting me?” he asked thinking he must have heard her wrong.
“I would never voice such a thought aloud,” she said repeating his own words. “But the lady I was thinking would make a perfect wife for you needs a special gentleman. One who is caring enough to see past the fact that she has no title.”
Asher sat back in his own chair feeling as though the noose that felt like it was tightening around his neck when he entered the room now had loosened. “I’m certain the lady is lovely. However, I’m not interested.”
“A pity…” Another light laugh came through the veil. “You men never are ready for what I propose. Or at least, youthinkyou aren’t. Regardless, I will mull over your situation further, Lord Rowley. Please continue to enjoy my tables this evening.” She made a wave of her hand toward the door.
Asher stood and gave a short bow knowing his interview with the Widow of Whitehall was over. As he entered back into the gambling room, his eyes traveled up to the women’s gallery and he saw the lady he had met near the stairs. He could only wonder what he had possibly turned down with Mrs. Dove-Lyon. Perhaps ifthatwoman had been the widow’s choice for him…but no, the chances of her matching Asher with his mysterious lady from above were hardly in his favor.
Chapter Six
Patience quickened herpace down the upper floor of Dr. Thornberry’s home. She had learned her way around to the different rooms and patients well enough in the past week. Mrs. Dove-Lyon had been correct in everything she had said when she had vouched for the good doctor. He was a fair man and hadn’t had Patience perform any task that was more taxing than the general care of those who needed her.
“You’re late,” one of the higher-ranking nurses declared taking Patience’s elbow and making her rush further down the hall.
“I’m sorry. It took longer in the last room than I expected,” Patience answered as they continued to move down the hall.
“You’re the only one who can calm him. Please hurry,” the woman declared.
If she hurried any faster she’d be at a full run, Patience thought before taking a calming breath knowing the patient her superior referred to. She squared her shoulders, took another deep breath, and entered the room to see his dishes upended and the remains of his breakfast littering the floor. His attention was currently on a young girl who was sweeping up the mess, giving Patience time to stare at the soldier in the only bed inthe room—a man who had returned from France after losing his memory for almost two whole years.
“Good morning, Captain Tyler. Are you ready for your shave?” Patience asked as she came to stand at the end of his bed.
He turned his head to stare at her with soulless green eyes and Patience made sure to keep the bright smile on her face. She didn’t flinch at his appearance. She had seen worse than a ragged scar that ran from the middle of his forehead down the entire right side of his face. At least he hadn’t lost his eye. He brushed down a lock of his sandy colored hair, as if to hide the old wound. Not that that would work.
“No need to bother with me today, Mrs. Moore,” he said and his voice sounded as though he had lost all hope. For her part, she saw no reason for his despair. Though it was true that in addition to the injury to his face, he also had sustained a leg wound and would limp for the rest of his life, she had witnessed worse. He was lucky he hadn’t lost his leg.
“It’s no bother, Captain, as I have told you many times this past week,” Patience said as she motioned to the girl cleaning the mess he had made. “Would you be so kind as to please bring me a basin of warm water for Captain Tyler’s morning shave.”
“Right away, Mrs. Moore,” the woman replied as she went to the fireplace where a kettle hung on an iron rod.
Patience returned her attention back to her patient. “Let’s get your propped up better for that shave.” She went to take his arm to help him sit up, but he pulled away from her.
“I’m not a complete invalid. I can do it myself if you must make a fuss over me,” he grumbled.
“You wouldn’t want to get me in trouble with Dr. Thornberry by not allowing me to do my duties, would you?” Patience asked. She took no offense at his curt tone, knowing this young man was only have a rough morning.
“My apologies, Mrs. Moore. Of course, I wouldn’t want you to get into trouble because I am in an irritable mood.” The captain sat up and Patience fluffed the pillows behind his back before he leaned back against them.
