The Lyon’s Laird
The Lyon’s Den Connected World
Hildie McQueen
© Copyright 2020 by Hildie McQueen
Text by Hildie McQueen
Cover by Wicked Smart Designs
Dragonblade Publishing, Inc. is an imprint of Kathryn Le Veque Novels, Inc.
P.O. Box 7968
La Verne CA 91750
[email protected]
Produced in the United States of America
First Edition May 2020
Kindle Edition
Reproduction of any kind except where it pertains to short quotes in relation to advertising or promotion is strictly prohibited.
All Rights Reserved.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
License Notes:
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Additional Dragonblade books by Author Hildie McQueen
Clan Ross Series
A Heartless Laird
A Hardened Warrior
A Hellish Highlander
The Lyon’s Den Connected World
The Lyon’s Laird
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Publisher’s Note
Additional Dragonblade books by Author Hildie McQueen
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
About the Author
Chapter One
Evangeline Prescott had become used to the confines of her beautiful home, a gilded cage one could say.
She’d transformed her bedroom into a haven. Books stacked on surfaces, vases with flowers she personally picked from the garden and her lazy, orange cat, Lucille, made for a perfect sanctuary. If only she could remain there forever, curled up on the window seat rereading her favorite books while occasionally peering out the window to the street below.
A carriage rumbled by. The manner in which the horses pranced seemed to indicate they enjoyed the perfect weather on that particular spring day.
For a moment, she imagined riding in the carriage, contemplating where she’d choose to go. With a frown and a shake of her head, Evangeline realized there wasn’t anywhere she’d prefer to be than at home.
While others of her social status would consider her life a sad situation, she couldn’t imagine why. After all, her life was complete. She had a close friend. Her father and mother doted upon her. And if not for the certain imperfection and an unfortunate incident, her life would be perfect.
Just then, a black carriage with a familiar emblem came to a stop at the front gates of her home. The driver peered up to the house before climbing down to assist his passengers out.
“Oh, no,” Evangeline grumbled, which made her cat, Lucille, lift its head, its luminescent green eyes scanning the room. The cat, used to her outbursts, lowered its head back to the cushion and closed its eyes.
Outside, a younger woman exited the carriage, dressed in a blue morning gown. She daintily took two steps to the side so that her mother, who wore a much too bright shade of yellow for someone her age, could join her.
A family footman promptly opened the gate to allow the women in and Evangeline leaned back as they disappeared. Since she’d already made an appearance at breakfast and had announced she planned to enjoy the beautiful day in the garden later, it would be impossible to feign illness.
It was but a few moments before the knock on the door meant she could not hide any longer.
“Yes?” Evangeline called out, remaining hopeful that perhaps the maid would bring a message to remain upstairs.
A maid named Fran pushed the door open and walked in. “Miss Evangeline, your mother requests that you come down. Your aunt, Lady Monroe, and her daughter, Prudence, are here.”
“Very well.” Evangeline closed her book and placed it on the bench beside where she was sitting. “Tell her I’ll be down momentarily.”
One stair at a time, Evangeline ensured her footing, doing her best to ignore the gazes that followed her progress. Despite her mother continuing the conversation, Lady Monroe and her daughter did not tear their gazes away from Evangeline. Even when she finally took the final step and made her way to the settee, the older woman continued to stare.
“My goodness,” her aunt said after Evangeline greeted her. “I certainly thought the last treatment would provide some kind of improvement to your leg. But you are still as encumbered. Your limp is quite pronounced.”
“Perhaps she will remain that way,” Prudence added, her wide eyes meeting Evangeline’s with feigned innocence.
How her mother and this woman could be sisters perplexed Evangeline.
The sisters were complete opposites. Her mother was blonde, beautiful and kind, while her aunt had dark brown hair and a permanent crease between her brows as she was permanently displeased about everything.
“She is doing much better.” Evangeline’s mother attempted to smile, but it was evident to Evangeline that she was not pleased with Lady Monroe’s rude comment. “We have decided to allow Evangeline a respite from any more treatments.”
“I suppose one can only do so much,” her aunt replied.
Evangeline gave her aunt a bland look. “I am so very grateful you care so much about my treatments, Auntie.”
Put in her place, her aunt turned to the doorway. “Is tea being brought all the way from China?”
“The spring social season is upon us. Isn’t it exciting?” Prudence said with overly exaggerated glee. “We came to deliver an invitation in person. They are so very lovely,” Prudence gushed. “You will be a dear and help me with the flower arrangements again this year, won’t you?”
For th
e last several years, the Monroes hosted the first ball of the season. And every time, they would invite Evangeline to be part of the planning. Which was a nice gesture on their part, while at the same time a stark reminder of how excluded she was from other social gatherings.
Due to the unfortunate incident, she never received an invitation to more than tea at some houses which, in and of itself, was rare.
As much as Evangeline hated social occasions, she loved being part of transforming a stark ballroom to a beautiful oasis. And she would always help, even though Prudence was annoying. She treated Evangeline with as much disdain as any other person.
“Of course, I will help, although I am not sure I’ll remain for the ball itself.”
Prudence gave her a knowing look. “You can sit and enjoy the music. It will be nice to see what everyone wears. I am sure your friend, Rose, will join you as she never has an escort either.”
“That’s true. There will be plenty of chairs available for both of you. Unlike you, Prudence cannot sit about,” Lady Monroe interjected, her lips curving to a smile that did not reach her eyes. “As hostess, Prudence will be required to entertain and dance. This is the year we will strive to find a proper match for a marriage for her.”
“The invitations have gone out to a group of rather promising gentlemen,” Prudence informed them. “One in particular, I hope to get to know better.”
“Who is that dear?” Evangeline’s mother asked.
“I prefer to keep it to myself for now,” Prudence replied, inspecting her nails. “He is the talk of the town, however.”
“There are plenty of eligible men, even some outside our circles,” Evangeline said. “There are shop owners. Why, the owner of The Tattered Page is single…”
“A bookshop owner?” Lady Monroe held her hand to her chest. “Honestly, Olivia, you should worry about your daughter’s choices.”
Prudence wasn’t necessarily pretty but she did have lush, brown, wavy hair that was often remarked upon. Her suitors often lost interest once they were subjected to her constant pouting and complaining.
Tea was brought and placed in front of Evangeline’s mother and she poured for everyone. Her hand shook, but she poured without incident, ensuring to place an embroidered doily under each cup before passing it to the others.
Just then, there was a knock at the door and Evangeline’s friend, Rose Edwards, was announced.
Dressed in a beautiful green morning gown, her auburn hair pulled up into a simple style, a happy Rose walked into the room. The bright smile faded at noting Lady Monroe and Prudence were in attendance.
Rose’s bright blue eyes met Evangeline’s. “Oh, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude.” She curtsied in front of Lady Monroe. “Pleasure to see you, Lady Monroe and Prudence.”
Her aunt barely acknowledged Rose.
“Nonsense, you are quite welcome, dear.” Evangeline’s mother motioned to an empty chair. “We are discussing the upcoming social season and your perspective would be greatly appreciated.”
Lady Monroe blew out a breath. “Yes, well, I am sure my Prudence has plenty of knowledge of what is popular this season. She has already attended two social gatherings and several teas.” Her eyes slid past Evangeline to Rose. “How many have you attended?”
Rose blushed and shrugged. “Evangeline and I went to a tea just yesterday. It was most delightful to spend time with Lady Turlington.”
Both the Prescott and Edwards families had always enjoyed spending time with the older, eccentric Lady Turlington and her husband. Although titled, the duke and wife rarely left their home. With only one son, they rarely had company and so Evangeline, Rose and their parents often visited the old couple.
The Edwards family was not as connected to social circles as the Monroes. Rose’s father owned Arthington’s, a high-end furniture store. The family fortune came from sales and not inheritance like that of well-established families.
Like most titled men, Lord Monroe, Prudence’s father, had not earned any of the money the family boasted about. They lived from the family fortune left from generations before.
Evangeline smiled warmly when accepting the tea from her mother and then turned to Rose. “Prudence has invited me to help with the décor of the ballroom again this year.”
“Delightful,” Rose replied in a rather bland tone that made Evangeline struggle not to laugh.
Prudence was, of course, oblivious met Rose’s gaze. “You can help as well. I am not good with the menial tasks of plopping flowers into vases.”
This time, Evangeline giggled. “We will certainly help.”
Her aunt and Prudence began discussing the upcoming season’s plans with her mother which, of course, did not include Evangeline.
“Should we discuss the next meeting of the book club?” Evangeline asked Rose.
For several years, they and three other women had formed a small but vibrant book club that met at The Tattered Page, a local bookshop two blocks from Hyde Park. The gatherings were a weekly highlight for Evangeline, who rarely ventured out.
Jarod Tuttle, the owner of The Tattered Page, was a rather awkward man in his late thirties. He was another reason she and the other ladies looked forward to the meetings. Despite his shyness, he was attractive and attentive to their group. He never criticized their choice of books, which made him acceptably forward-thinking in their eyes. They’d all harbored light crushes on Jarod over time.
“It’s sad that I am grateful when my sister leaves,” her mother said later that day after the three women left. “I must admit to secretly wishing she would move to the country like they’ve been considering.”
Evangeline laughed. “My aunt considers you not only a sister, but a friend. The poor thing doesn’t realize she has none.”
Her mother’s lips twitched. “I know.” She let out a sigh. “My trembling gets worse whenever she’s around, which seems to give her glee.”
“The doctor does advise that you avoid stressful situations.” Evangeline studied her mother’s hands, which were still at the moment.
Evangeline stood and went to the doorway. “I will oversee dinner preparations. Let’s pray that Father’s business associate who is joining us is pleasant.” She met her mother’s warm gaze. “Remain here and rest.”
Her mother reclined against the pale-yellow upholstery of the sofa and lifted the teacup to her mouth. “Thank you, darling.”
Through the windowpanes, sunlight filled the room, giving it a beautiful glow. Evangeline fought the urge to go to the tall windows and peer out. Prone to daydreaming, she could stand at the doorway to their garden for hours and not realize the passage of time.
Down the short corridor and past the dining room, Evangeline made her way to the kitchen. Just as she entered, Martha, the cook and head housekeeper, hurried from the table in the center of the room to look into a pot.
“It smells delicious,” Evangeline proclaimed.
“If it doesn’t burn first,” Martha replied, giving the young maid, Fran, a stern look. “See about chopping the rest of the carrots,” she instructed.
Fran gave Evangeline a bright smile. “Miss Genie, did you go out to the garden yet? It’s a beautiful day.”
“Not yet,” Evangeline replied. “You’re welcome to come with me when I do go.”
Martha cleared her throat. “Fran most certainly will not go about the garden. She has much to do. Remember your place, Fran.”
“I’m sure it’s fine for us to…” Evangeline started.
“No, it is not, Miss Genie,” the older woman said, also using her family nickname, which made Evangeline want to laugh. “Your mother has corrected both of you on plenty of occasions about all this frolicking.”
Evangeline winked at Fran before looking to Martha. “Mother is resting, so I came to ensure you are made aware we will have a guest tonight. A gentleman.”
“Very well, Miss. I will ensure everything is just right.” When Martha turned her attention back to the meal
preparation and Fran began chopping, Evangeline strolled back out of the room.
The dining room was not as ornate as other homes she’d visited, as her mother preferred understated décor. The walls were a soft gray with square off-white inlayed wainscoting around the room. Centered in the space was a rectangle mahogany table with four chairs on each side and two on the ends. The only décor on the table was an oversized vase that spilled over with flowers and thin branches that had been expertly arranged by her mother.
Perfectly centered over the table was a sparkling crystal chandelier.
Evangeline walked around the perimeter of the room with a critical eye. She inspected the surfaces of the sideboards and the two red upholstered settees that were positioned across from each other against walls. Everything was acceptable for company. The only tasks left were to instruct the table be set with the blue china and the new set of crystal goblets her father had acquired during a brief trip to Austria.
Just then, Fran walked in carrying a tray upon which were folded napkins and silverware.
“Perfect timing,” Evangeline said and continued on with instructions to Fran as to which items were to be used. Once she was assured the young maid understood what was expected, she decided a walk alone in the garden was warranted.
As if her cat had some sort of mind reading ability, Lucille raced past and stood next to the set of French doors. She meowed softly and rubbed against the door to make her point clear.
“Very well, I will allow you outside, but only for a short while.” Evangeline opened the doors and the cat sprinted out.
In the garden, she walked to a flowering bush and considered trimming blooms for her bedroom. The day was, indeed, lovely. The sun was warm, but not too much so and there was just enough of a breeze to ensure comfort. Birdsong filled the air as Evangeline made her way to a bench.
From where she stood, Evangeline had a clear view through the doors into the sitting room where her mother continued to lounge. There was something strange about the way her mother was acting. Not just during the Monroes’ visit, but since the day before. It was as if there were something weighing heavily on her mind. Evangeline narrowed her eyes. Or her mother was up to something. Although she knew her mother wished for her to marry, it actually happening was doubtful.
The Lyon's Laird: The Lyon's Den Page 1