Page 14 of The Lyon and His Promise
Her world reeled around her and for the first time in Josephine’s entire life, she fainted right into the arms of the man of her dreams.
Chapter Eleven
Gyles found hisarms full of the woman who had captured his attention at the Lyon’s Den. There were a million questions racing through his mind but the one of the utmost importance was to ensure she was well. Reaching down, he gently lifted the woman up at her knees and brought her into his chest. Her head rested on his shoulder, and he noticed the intricate details of the pins in her black hair. They were formed in the shape of tiny golden butterflies with diamonds for eyes. They suited her. If he weren’t careful, the lady would fly away with his heart.
The crowd parted as he rushed the woman in his arms in the direction of the supper box he had procured for them for the evening. She began to awaken, and he called for something to be brought to the table for her to drink. The lady at last raised her head to stare at him with soft brown eyes tinged with a hint of green if he weren’t mistaken.
“Gyles? What happened?” Her voice was barely audible over the noise of the music and crowd, but he was still startled. Since they hadn’t had the opportunity to introduce themselves, it was strange she used his given name. Had Mrs. Dove-Lyon told her his name? But no,that couldn’t be the case, since she hadn’t seemed to know who she was waiting for only minutes earlier when she’d tried to send him away.
More likely, she had recognized him from seeing him about town. He was well known within Society and anyone whowasanyone was certainly knowledgeable he would inherit a dukedom one day. But even if she recognized him, why would she have called him by that name? No one called him anything other than his title, Wickes, except maybe Simon and… His mind traveled to his younger days when he didn’t give a fig what he’d inherit from his father. He recalled the only two people who had meant the world to him who had dared to call him by his given name. He stared down at this woman whose face was mostly covered with her golden mask. It didn’t seem possible, but he couldn’t stop his heart from hoping…could this be Josephine?
“My apologies for being so informal. I have no idea what came over me,” she said recovering from her mistake when they reached his box and he set her down into a chair.
“No need to apologize, my lady. It is I who am sorry for sending you into a swoon. I hope it wasn’t because Mrs. Dove-Lyon set our littlerendezvousinto motion,” he replied as he came to kneel by the side of her chair. Try as he might, he wasn’t able to get a glimpse of the woman whose feature remained hidden. What were the odds of this being Simon’s sister? Highly unlikely but if not Josephine, then who was she? She certainly piqued his interest no matter who she was.
She reached for her fan dangling at her wrist and began waving it frantically in front her face. He watched her lips as they opened and closed several times while she was apparently at a loss to attempt a reply. She finally found her voice.
“Mrs. Dove-Lyon… yes, the woman was clear I was to meet a gentleman here tonight who would be wearing a stickpin exactly like yours,” she finally stated before she snapped the fan shut placing her hands in her lap. “But alittle rendezvous, my lord? I was led to believeour meeting might eventually lead to something more respectable—something I would not have associated with you. I wasn’t aware you were in the market for a wife, Lord Wickes.”
He was a little disappointed that she had returned to formally addressing him. He had to admit he enjoyed hearing his given name fall from her lips. Still… He certainly wasn’t prepared to wed a woman who wasn’t well established in Society no matter what Mrs. Dove-Lyon had in store for him. “A wife,” he slowly drawled out before he continued. “Yes… well… when you place a bet at the Lyon’s Den, a person is certainly aware that the odds are stacked with the house.”
“And yet you placed your bet anyway knowing the Widow of Whitehall may just see you wed in the end… that is, after you’ve spent enough time with the woman in the hopes that marriage would be the end result.” She stared at him as though accessing his worth before a frown marred what he could see of her brow. “You don’t seem to be very pleased at the prospect of marrying, Lord Wickes.”
Gyles gave a light chuckle. “I don’t believe we have to worry about heading to the altar right away come the morning, my lady. Perhaps some witty conversation between us should come first?” he teased with a grin. He didn’t miss the twitch of her lips while she attempted to hide her amusement.
“If we can’t hold a civil conversation between us, I highly doubt we’d ever suit otherwise,” she said with a slight smile. She looked over his shoulder and Gyles turned to see the Marchioness of Saxton with another woman rushing toward the lady seated before him.
Gyles stood and moved aside as the two women began talking over one another.
“Are you hurt?” Moriah inquired.
“What happened, J—”
“Nothing!” the lady in blue quickly interjected. “I was startled upon learning that Lord Wickes was to be my escort.”
Both women turned to look upon him and he shrugged. “I saidnothing to offend her,” he replied when they continued to stare him down. “Honestly, I don’t know why she fainted.”
“She’s never fainted a day in her life,” the blonde lady with green eyes proclaimed before reaching for a glass of wine on the table. “Here… drink this. I’m certain some color will return to your cheeks with a few sips.”
The Marchioness of Saxton blocked his view of the seated woman. “Perhaps you would be so kind as to give us a few moments alone with her so she might collect herself? I’m certain she’ll be fine afterwards and able to continue your time together this evening, Lord Wickes.”
Gyles nodded. “Of course. I shall give you a few moments and return directly.”
He was dismissed as the marchioness turned her attention back to his lady in blue and gold. Gyles didn’t go far but he was still distant enough that he wasn’t hovering over the woman. The Marquis of Saxton came to stand next to him and Gyles turned his attention from the lady to his friend Vincent.
“Your wife seems well acquainted with the woman I am to escort,” Gyles remarked casually. “Who is she?”
Saxton shrugged. “I haven’t a clue. I would have thought you would have introduced yourselves straight away.”
“There wasn’t enough time before she fainted right into my arms.”
“She is stunning in her disguise. I can’t wait for you to tell me who she is,” Saxton remarked with a chuckle.
“I have my suspicions as to her identity,” Gyles murmured. “If I’m correct, the situation will become another obstacle in our path.”
“What could possibly come between you if you decide that you fancy her?”
Gyles ran his hand over the back of his neck while his memories assaulted him. “An old vow made when I was young.”
