Into The Lyon's Den: The Lyon's Den Connected World (Book 1)

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Into The Lyon's Den: The Lyon's Den Connected World (Book 1) Page 12

by Jade Lee


  “Actually, your father gifted it to me. When we spoke about your marriage.”

  “My marriage?” she echoed dumbly. Then her heart abruptly beat triple time in her throat. “You spoke to my father about marrying me?” He words came out as a kind of squeak.

  His eyes widened in surprise, and he swallowed convulsively. “Well, um, as to that—”

  “You don’t want him,” Diana inserted before he could finish. “He’s only interested in politics. But as soon as we are home, I shall make a list of the best gentlemen to consider.” She was about to prattle on further, but Elliott interrupted.

  “I have had a couple men ask me about your particulars after our ride in Hyde Park. I spoke with your father, and he has given me leave to assist him with this task.”

  The blood was still rushing through her ears and throbbing in her temples. “My marriage is a task?” she asked, her tongue as thick as her muddled thoughts.

  Diana patted her hand. “Your dowry is. The marriage contract.” She squeezed Amber’s fingers. “I am thrilled that we can be true friends now. You can marry a respectable man, and we can visit one other every day if we like.” The excitement in her voice was palpable.

  “We weren’t friends before?” Good lord, she was being completely muttonheaded. Of course, they weren’t real friends. The difference in their station precluded that. But if she married well, then Lady Dunnamore and Mrs. Whomever She Became could become dear friends without a word of censure from anyone.

  “Twenty thousand pounds,” Diana breathed. “I had no idea.”

  Neither had Amber. And the idea made her sick to her stomach. It felt like she had been branded with a pound note and then set in the stocks to sell as a prize cow. Until this moment, this had been a holiday from the cage. A time to dance and wear pretty dresses, knowing for certain that at the end of it all, she would return to her home, her family, and her friends. And yes, the damned gray cage. But that was all part of the package of her life.

  And now she was to be sold off in marriage? Certainly, she knew about marriage contracts, but she never thought that she would have one. Never thought that her father would negotiate for the best value in a husband as he would a lot of uncut stones.

  She abruptly stood up, nearly spilling the lemonade that Lord Byrn still held in his hand. “I need to talk to my father,” she said tightly. She needed to know where he had found twenty thousand pounds. And why he wanted to be rid of her so desperately. Who would sit in the cage with her grandfather? Who would fashion jewelry for the store? Who would see that there were coals in the grate in winter and heavy blankets to keep them warm?

  Those were things she did for her family. She had always done them since before her mother passed. And now they didn’t want her anymore? It couldn’t be. And yet the pain in her chest told her it was true.

  “Miss Gohar. Miss—Amber! Wait!”

  She jolted to a stop, only now realizing that she was halfway to the door. Everyone around them was staring at her as Lord Byrn made it to her side. “This isn’t seemly,” he said under his breath.

  Seemly? It wasn’t at all seemly to sell a daughter like livestock. Meanwhile, Diana made it to her side. She spoke loud enough for all to overhear.

  “Don’t worry, my dear. Your grandmother will be just fine. I’m sure it’s nothing serious, but we can go home and send a letter right away. There is no reason to worry.”

  Her grandmother had died before she was born, but she recognized it for the ruse that it was. Diana had to give some excuse for her sudden distress, and that was as good as anything.

  “I’ll get your wraps,” Lord Byrn said. Then he looked her in the eyes. “Don’t be concerned. I’ll take care of everything.”

  That was exactly the problem! He had taken care of talking with her father and getting her a dowry. Diana was taking care of finding her a husband. And no one was taking care of what she wanted at all.

  But the moment she thought it, she knew it for the lie it was. Hadn’t all of this been exactly what she’d prayed for? The parties, the dancing, the husband to whisk her away to a life of ease. She had dreamed of exactly that, and suddenly it was possible. With twenty thousand pounds, she might even garner a husband with a title. And though that was still not likely, it wasn’t out of reach anymore. Suddenly, she didn’t like reaching at all. She just wanted to be home, where no one complimented her teeth or spoke about their dogs. Where she was nothing and no one at all but the girl who daydreamed and made jewelry in secret.

  And now, damn it, she was about to cry. What was wrong with her?

  “Here you go,” Lord Byrn said as he set her wrap upon her shoulders. Then he gave her his right arm and his sister his left before escorting them outside to his waiting carriage.

  “Really, Amber,” Diana began, “this is something to celebrate.”

  Was it?

  “It’s just new,” Elliott said. “And new is always frightening.”

  Is that what they thought? Of course, it was. Because to them, the buying and selling of wives was how things were done. Except it had never been done that way for her. Everyone had assumed that eventually, she would meet someone and fall in love. A butcher’s boy or a baker’s son. No one but her had dreamed of a prince at a ball.

  She didn’t speak as they climbed into the carriage. The coachman started them moving, but she just stared at her hands. She wore fine kid gloves borrowed from Diana. Would she one day have fine things like this of her own? Provided by a wealthy, titled husband? She had good things, of course. Her family wasn’t rich, but they’d always had coal in the winter and sturdy gloves for her hands. But now she might have fine gloves and gowns with lace made in France.

  The idea made her head swim.

  “I’ll take her to see her father,” Elliott said to Diana. “But she can’t be seen like this.”

  “No, of course not. I have a dark cloak at home. I’ll bring it out to you.”

  “Thank you.”

  Diana leaned close and squeezed Amber’s fingers. “You look like I did before my wedding. But it won’t be like that for you,” she said. “You get to pick your husband, and I can help,” she said. “I know a little of who might make a good husband and who would not.”

  So did Amber. She saw the ones for the not column every night. In fact, that was the first requirement of any possible husband, that he not frequent the Lyon’s Den. “I don’t understand,” she finally said. “We don’t have twenty thousand pounds.” Why would her father promise something they didn’t have?

  “Actually,” Lord Byrn said gently, “you do. It was my suggestion. You have that much in gemstones and future profits from the store. Many gentlemen will marry a woman in the trades for just that kind of future income. The connection is usually kept quiet, but it is not uncommon.”

  It was his suggestion. How the idea hurt. She couldn’t even fully say why, but the thought of him suggesting ways to make her more auctionable was a betrayal that burned deep in her heart.

  “My grandparents married for love. They were both poor, but he was apprenticed to a jeweler, and she could cook. They had dreams together and made them come true. He tells me the stories often.”

  Diana patted her hand. “And now you will have a marriage based on something much more substantial than dreams.”

  She had no response to that, so she kept her head bowed, her fingers clasped, and her mouth pressed tightly shut. Her mind was spinning, and her emotions were even worse. She remained like that as they stopped at Diana’s home. His sister left, only to return with a cloak and to press a kiss to Amber’s cold cheek.

  “I can’t go with you to the Den. It would be disastrous if anyone saw me, but Elliott will keep you safe.”

  Amber looked up in confusion. “There is no one there who will hurt me.”

  “Of course not,” Elliott said as he wrapped the dark fabric around her. “But this is about your reputation. Leave the hood over your head so no one will recognize you.”

/>   No one would recognize her at her own home? Because she had a cloak with a hood on? She knew he meant it the other way. None of the fashionable people at the Lyon’s Den would see her, but she couldn’t help but hear it the other way. If she married someone outside her set, someone titled and respectable, would she then forever have to visit her family in secret? With her head and face covered so no one would know?

  “I am being ridiculous,” she said, her voice disgustingly weak. “Every girl wants this. I want this.” So, why was she rushing home to plead with her father to take it all back? “I am the luckiest girl alive.”

  He didn’t argue, but he also didn’t agree. Instead, he pulled her hand into his. They sat together like that, hand in hand, as the carriage drove through the London streets. Bit by bit, the neighborhood grew darker and more dangerous. The smell of sewage grew stronger, and she knew the rookeries were close.

  This was not something she would miss. She was accustomed to the danger, only going out during the day and in clothing that attracted no attention. And even then, she was often accompanied by one of the Wolf Pack.

  If she were to ride in a fine carriage, though, would she be in more danger or less? Would she need to hire footmen who could protect her, or would her family have to come see her in a different part of town?

  Thank heavens, they arrived quickly at the Lyon’s Den because she kept thinking of more questions, more problems, and more details that had never occurred in her daydreams. There, everything was perfectly easy, but suddenly the details were too much to bear. As soon as the horses stopped, she pushed open the door.

  “Amber!” Elliott called, but she was too quick, and she knew this place well. She heard him following her. His heavy tread was close behind as she dashed around the corner of the building to the small door in the back of the shop.

  It was locked. It was after dark. So she banged on it, crying out as she hammered on the door.

  “Papa! Open up! Papa!”

  No one answered, and her cries grew more frantic until she was sobbing at the door. Lord Byrn joined her and gently pulled her fists from the door. “Think Amber. Where would your father usually be right now?”

  “In the back, cutting stones!”

  “But then who would be with your grandfather?”

  “I would.” Except she had been at Almack’s. She took a breath and tried to think. “They’re both upstairs,” she said quietly. She turned and headed for the ladies’ entrance, only to realize that Lord Byrn would not be able to join her that way. It was not a problem. After all, she’d spent nearly her entire life going in and out of the Den without his company. But at this moment, he was the only touchstone she had in a world gone crazy. She didn’t want to leave his side.

  “We can go in the main entrance,” she said softly. “Women sometimes enter that way.”

  He didn’t question her. He simply extended his forearm to her. She didn’t want to take it. She wanted to hold his hand like they had in the carriage, but this was better than nothing. She would hold onto his arm and feel his solid presence that way. She set her palm to his arm, and he covered it with his free hand while tucking her close to his side.

  “I do not understand what you are feeling right now, but I will not leave your side until you are comfortable. Agreed?”

  “Yes,” she exhaled, relief in the word. “Thank you.”

  They made it inside with little issue. Lord Byrn was welcome here, as well as any of his companions, even if she be female and entering through the wrong door. Amber ran up the steps as soon as they made it inside and headed straight to the cage. But as soon as she got to the main floor, the noise and the smell assaulted her. Smoke, stale spirits, and sweat made for a nauseating atmosphere. She coughed just as a burst of raucous laughter filled the room. This was so familiar to her, like a second skin, and yet it didn’t seem to fit her now. Compared to the pastel colors and sedate dancing of Almack’s, this was a decidedly male environment, and not a very nice one.

  Nevertheless, she rushed forward, going straight to the cage door. “Papa!” she whispered through the grate. “Papa, open up. It’s me.”

  The door immediately opened, but not by her father. It was Lina, the Abacas Woman. “Thisbe!” she cried. “What are you doing here?”

  Thisbe. The name she used at the den, jolting her yet again. She’d gotten used to being called Amber and Miss Gohar. “Where is my father?”

  “He’s gone to get some tea for your grandfather. Come in, come in.”

  She opened the cage door and pulled Amber inside. Lord Byrn was right behind her, and if Lina tried to block him out, she was unsuccessful.

  “Enkelin? Is that you?” It was her grandfather using the German name for granddaughter, and she rushed to the back of the tiny room to hug him. Unlike the other smells, his scent was welcome and reassuring.

  “I’m here now, Grandfather.”

  “But why? Aren’t you to be a fine lady now?”

  The very words brought tears to her eyes, and she couldn’t answer. Meanwhile, Lina took her hand and pressed her forehead to it in a kind of bow. Few knew that Lina was from China, and this was her way of giving respect.

  “Thank you, Thisbe,” Lina said. “Thank you.”

  “What?”

  “Thank you for helping me get the money I need to send for my sister in China. Thank you for sending Lord Easterly to me.”

  What? “But—”

  “I took your suggestion,” Lord Byrn said, his voice a low rumble by her ear. “The arrangement was made this afternoon, as you recommended.”

  It had? She looked at Lord Byrn. “You accomplished all that this afternoon?”

  “As you said yesterday, it was a beneficial plan for everyone.” Elliott’s smile flashed white in the gloom. “And Lord Easterly vows to support my resolution and bring his friends’ votes along with him.”

  Oh, good. That was good news.

  “I need only to secure Lord Morthan’s vote with the brooch, then everything will be in hand. And you will be well on your way to being married respectably. You need never return to this cage again.” His opinion of the tiny dark cage was abundantly clear. And now that she stood in it, she noticed how very small it was, how it smelled as bad as the main floor, if not worse. Now that she looked about, she realized that it was a fraction of the size of the bedroom she had at Lady Dunnamore’s home.

  How had she spent so much time here?

  And now it became even more cramped as her father came in.

  Lina retreated back to her corner, lifting her abacas and beginning the steady click-clack of her work. Lord Byrn backed into the other corner, clearly trying to be as small as possible, which was hard given the breadth of his shoulders and his height. Her father set down the tea before her grandfather, then turned to her with a big smile.

  “Have you come to thank me, my girl?” he said with a hearty laugh. “You always said you would marry a prince, and look at you now. My grandsons will go to English schools with titled lords, and you will teach them to never come to a place like this, yes?”

  What was she to say to that? The idea that her sons would never know this place was wonderful, but that was like saying they would never know their own mother.

  “Papa, why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Tell you what? Things I never dreamed possible? It was Lord Byrn who arranged it. You must do a good piece for him. The best you can make, for he has been generous with you. A good bargain, yes? You make a brooch and get a fine husband in return.”

  Was that how he saw it? A brooch for a husband, as if the two were marketable commodities.

  “It is too cramped in here,” her father said. “We will go downstairs.”

  Amber jolted in surprise. Her father never invited gentlemen to go down to the shop unless he intended to sell them something. “But what if someone comes to the cage?” Her grandfather hadn’t been able to accurately appraise anything for at least a year.

  “Lina will send word,
yes?”

  Lina nodded in agreement.

  “See? All good.” Then he turned to Lord Byrn. “We did not have time this afternoon for a toast. Let us go share a drink now, yes?”

  “It would be my pleasure, Mr. Gohar.”

  Her father snorted. “I left that name a long time ago. I am Mr. Gold here.”

  He was Mr. Gold. She was Amber Gohar. And everybody wanted her to become Mrs. Somebody Else. Everybody, that is, except her. But no one was asking her. So, when Elliott and her father went downstairs, she followed like a silly child and said absolutely nothing.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Elliott followed Mr. Gold down the steps to the jewelry shop below. He smiled and nodded, making comments when needed, but his attention was centered on Amber as she trailed along behind them. She was withdrawn, her eyes haunted, and her hands clasped in front of her. Which was completely opposite of the woman he had come to know. She was unusually direct for a woman, she always held her head high, and her hands were often the most animated part of her. But not right now, and he was struggling to figure out why. If she were his mother, he’d just say she was in a mood, but Amber was the most unflappable woman he’d ever met. Until today.

  And all because her father had given her a dowry?

  “I cut some new stones today,” her father said as he opened the door to the back of the shop. “Why don’t you see what design you can fashion for them?”

  Obviously, he was talking to Amber, who looked up at her father first, then over to Elliott. “I do not like it when you discuss my future without me.” Her voice was firm and yet still respectful.

  “Then leave the door open. You can hear everything we say. But if I am to lose my best designer, then I must have a few more things to sell before she goes.”

  Amber sighed. “I am your only designer.”

  “Not anymore,” her father returned. “I have a new apprentice. He draws beautifully, and he began today.”

  Elliott saw Amber jerk in reaction. “Papa—” she began, her voice breaking.

  “You were always going to grow up, Juwel,” he said softly, using the German word for jewel. “But even so, you will always be my daughter, and whenever you wish to sculpt, you can come here.”

 

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