Page 2 of The Lyon and His Promise
“Yes. You were my best friend in our youth. I would like to haveyou back in my life again. After so many years, we should let the past remain where it belongs and renew our friendship,” Gyles suggested.
Simon peered at him over his glass, downed the contents and then put the crystal on the table he stood next to. “Very well. Send word to my townhouse. I’ll agree to talk the matter over.”
Gyles wasn’t given any time to reply for Simon abruptly left. At least he agreed to meet with him. Gyles would send word in the morning and prayed he could repair the damage that had kept him and his friend apart. Gyles had missed Simon’s friendship and those bygone days when the two would hunt and fish together when they were at their country homes. Mayhap, if he could mend the rift between them, he could also find a way to bring Josephine back home where she truly belonged. He wanted to bring their family back together not only for their sake but for his own.
Chapter Two
Mrs. Josephine Bouchardslid the robe from her shoulders as her maid helped her dress. Most days, she wasn’t sure why she bothered. It wasn’t as though she had places to go other than downstairs for tea. Her life had become mundane for the past several years. Though she supposed “mundane” was better than “catastrophic,” which was what her life had been like when she had wed.
Brought up in a family well respected within Society, Josephine had made the mistake of falling in love with her brother’s best friend when she was younger. Such a mistake could have been forgivable if she had kept it to herself, but she’d made the foolish decision to voice her innermost thoughts aloud that fateful day. The coldness with which he had rejected her had been so battering to her heart that she had thrown herself into a very ill-advised match to make herself feel better. If Gyles had only proclaimed he had feelings for her, she would have never run away with Raphe Bouchard. She had acted out in the hopes Gyles would race after her to halt her marriage. But as the carriage continued north to Gretna Green, there was no rider in pursuit, and she soon became Raphe’s wife.
At first, all had gone well with her husband. He was handsome andattentive. He had enough charm with his soft French accent that she had to admit, if only to herself, he had swept her off her feet. Unfortunately, Josephine was to learn shortly after they had said their vows, that Raphe had hoped to live off her dowry—and that had not been an option. The terms of her father’s will stated that Josephine’s dowry would be invested by her brother and that he would turn it over to her only when she made a “suitable match.” Since she ran away with Raphe without her brother’s permission, Simon refused to hand over the money to his disobedient sister. She soon found herself in a rundown room at a boarding house in a bad neighborhood in London. Raphe’s income as a soldier had been enough to support himself somewhat genteelly when he was a bachelor, but it wouldn’t been enough to support a wife, especially given how much of it Raphe wasted on fine clothes for himself and alcohol. Raphe complained daily how she had ruined him, and her situation only got worse the more he drank.
Josephine wasn’t sure how she survived those two years of her marriage. At only a score of years, she had been reduced to taking in laundry and any sewing jobs she could find just to make ends meet. Meanwhile, Raphe had gambled away any bit of spare coin she would earn until she finally learned to hide a few shillings away when she was able. The knock on the door one morning had her realizing that Raphe had not made it home. Worried, she went to the door to find the landlord demanding payment for the room. She had gone to where she hid her extra coins. The space under a lose floorboard had been the perfect place… or so she’d thought. It was only when she reached inside that she realized that Raphe had found her money and had taken it last evening when he left. And just when she had thought that matters couldn’t get any worse, a constable showed up around the same time stating that Raphe had been killed in a duel.
Barely given any time to collect her things, she was thrown out of the room for nonpayment. She had nowhere to go and wandered thestreets wondering what she would do next. Her parents were long gone from this world. The only family she had left was her brother, and he had refused to see her after she had wed. She had become an outcast and wouldn’t find any sympathy from his corner. Her mind had been in a complete daze.
As if in answer to her prayers, she met Lord Adrian de Courtenay when he saved her from being run over by an out-of-control carriage. Pushed away from the hooves that would have trampled her, she stared into the blue eyes of her rescuer. Curly brown hair framed a face that was older than her but they quickly struck up a friendly conversation. He kept her laughing when he told her the story of how he had inherited the title of earl and the circumstances of his sister’s marriage to a second cousin.
When he learned she had no place to go, he took her to a townhouse in a better part of town. Days passed as he came to visit her until their relationship took another turn. He asked her to become his mistress. Any hopes that he might one day ask her to become his wife vanished. She should have remembered her upbringing. If Adrian had truly wished to safeguard her reputation, he would have sent her to live with a female relative of his rather than establishing her in her own residence.
Josephine had realized she didn’t have a lot of options. And anyway, Adrian was easy on the eyes and very loving. She accepted his offer and for another two years of her life, she waited for her handsome earl to come to call upon her. She never knew when he would visit. His only requirement was that she be available to his whims. She supposed life could be worse.
Worse… Josephine rolled her eyes. As if falling in love with your brother’s best friend wasn’t bad enough, then falling in love with your lover who would never make any sort of a commitment to you had rattled Josephine’s brain. When Adrian came to call that fateful day to tell Josephine he was ending their association, she thought she couldn’t live without him. Adrian offered her a generous amount of money as a final gift.Plenty to see you through the next several months until you can find another benefactor and place to live, he had said. Since the house belonged to Adrain, she knew she would once again be displaced. He married shortly thereafter to a duke’s daughter of all people.
What had possessed her to go to Bath to sneak into the Valentine’s Day ball Josephine knew Adrian and his wife would be attending? Obviously, she had lost whatever wits she had left. The final straw to her sanity was when she tried to buy his wife off with what little savings she had. The countess had looked upon her as if Josephine had struck her. The lady, of course, refused to take the bank draft but that didn’t come as any surprise to Josephine. Yet when Josephine slid a black leather glove across the table, the countess’s eyes filled with tears. The younger woman took the glove and made her excuses as she quickly fled causing Josephine to be overcome with guilt for hurting the younger lady. It had been a stupid plan to begin with and would only cause Adrian to hate her.
When she returned to London with regret coursing through every inch of her body, she began packing up her belongings. She penned a note to a woman who lived nearby asking if she might have a room to let. Mrs. Cassandra Vaughn was known to take in widows who were in need, and Josephine was thankful the woman agreed.
“Madam? Will there be anything else?” the young girl asked causing Josephine to realize she had been deeply lost in thought as her past once again haunted her.
“No, thank you. That will be all,” Josephine said quietly as she patted her hair.
“Mrs. Vaughn will be waiting for you downstairs in her parlor, madam.”
Josephine could only nod while the maid left her bedroom.Time to put on a smiling face, she thought as she left the room and began making her way downstairs.
Cassandra had been beyond generous, and she lived comfortably. Her home was furnished elegantly but not in a gaudy way. Cassandra had been one of the lucky ones when her ex-lover deeded her this house along with a generous settlement when he, too, had at last wed. There was no bitterness in Cassandra’s heart toward Neville Quinn, Earl of Drayton, when he also wed another duke’s daughter. She would only ever sing his praises. If Josephine could have acted just as caring, her life would at least be a little less… messy.
She entered the brightly lit parlor with its powder blue colored walls and matching drapes. Cassandra sat at a round table pouring tea upon Josephine’s arrival and she took a seat at one of the empty chairs. Mrs. Patience Moore sat in another and there was a peach-colored rose at the other vacant seat. A reminder that Mrs. Moriah Henshaw—or rather the Marchioness of Saxton—had found her happily ever after.
Josephine took the cup and saucer Cassandra handed to her. “Thank you, Cassie.”
Patience wrapped her knuckles lightly on the table. “I call today’s meeting of the Wicked Widows’ Club to order,” she said with a giggle as she referenced the name given to them from a local newspaper.
Cassandra laughed brightly. “I think we need an outing so we can give that wretchedTeatime Tattlersome gossip. It’s been some time since one of us were in that rag.”
Josephine almost choked on her tea. “I believe I’ve had enough gossip revolving around me to last the rest of my life. I’ll stay home, thank you very much.”
Patience reached across the table. “Nonsense. The outing will do you good. You stay here too much. A little sunshine on your face will brighten your day—”
“—and put unseemly spots on my skin, you ninny,” Josephine interrupted with wide eyes to reflect her horror at the thought.
Cassandra took a sip of her tea. “Well, if you never go out, what will it matter? No one will ever see you hiding here inside my house, my dear.”
“I amnothiding,” Josephine murmured.
“You’re almost like a hermit,” Patience gasped out making a face. “Very unbecoming.”
