The Scandalous Lyon: The Lyon's Den

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The Scandalous Lyon: The Lyon's Den Page 12

by Maggi Andersen


  The duke’s blue eyes smiled down at her. How very like Jason he was. Older and broader, but just as handsome. “It’s good to meet you, at last, Miss Crabtree. My brother has told me much about you.”

  Beverly flushed and glanced at Jason. “Please, tell me about my father,” she pleaded.

  “We should discuss it in Mr. Crabtree’s presence,” Jason said, a knowing smile on his face.

  Her mother, her face crimson, stood in the hall. “Your Grace, Lord Jason, please do come into the drawing room. You’ll be in need of a libation after your journey. I shall send for Mr. Crabtree.” She looked pained. “I believe he is in the glass house.”

  While the gentlemen were shown into the drawing room, Beverly excused herself and took the kitten down to the kitchen where word had spread. Cook was in a dither ordering the scullery and kitchen maids about.

  Beverly darted upstairs to change and tie a ribbon around her hair. When she came down, her father had been found, and the three men were conversing.

  Mama rushed into the room. “A letter has come for you, Mr. Crabtree.”

  “It appears the news has arrived,” Jason said. “It travels slowly in these parts. Please do read it, sir.”

  Apologizing, her father rose to open and read the missive. A moment later, he looked up, shocked. “It seems my name has been cleared. Lord Paine has been arrested.”

  “We left London as soon as we had word.” Jason smiled at her.

  As he spoke, the knocker sounded on the front door. A maid came to fetch Beverly’s father.

  “Your grandfather’s lawyers had some success,” Jason said when they were left alone with Charles. “Bow Street Runners engaged by the solicitors exposed some of Lord Paine’s disreputable dealings in the city. Found him red-handed at the docks with a gang of smugglers about to load Paine’s stolen goods. He resides in Newgate at present.”

  “It’s to be hoped that will keep him in prison, at least until more damning evidence is found. Some members of the gang may confess to save their own hides. He has blood on his hands.”

  “A clerk from the magistrate’s court just called. The parish constable has been arrested.” Her father stepped into the room with a big smile. “It is the most unexpected and welcome news.” He kissed her mother’s cheek and then came to sit down. “I suspect this is your doing, Your Grace and Lord Jason. I must thank you both. I am forever in your debt.”

  “No, sir. We are merely the bearers of good tidings,” Charles said. “Your father-in-law is the one to thank.”

  “Eh?” Her father’s eyes widened in astonishment. “Daintith? What has the baron to do with this?”

  Her mother had decided it was better not to tell him about Beverly’s trip to Upton Grey. Beverly hurried over to his chair. “I must tell you, Papa, that I went to see Grandpapa with Lord Jason.”

  “To Deane Abbey?” He raised an eyebrow and turned to look at Jason. “Now, there’s a story I look forward to hearing.” He picked up his wine glass and downed the contents.

  Jason leaned forward. “I should like to speak to you privately, sir.”

  Charles stood. “Miss Crabtree, would you kindly show me the grounds? Your gardeners have done splendid work here.”

  Jason winked at Beverly as she took the duke’s proffered arm. He seemed so sure. Had there been word? If only he had told her. She was on tenterhooks! Surely her father wouldn’t refuse Jason now? She wished she could be sure. This affair had made her father an even harsher critic of what he considered unethical behavior.

  “I shall take you to my favorite place, Your Grace, by the river.”

  “I am eagerness itself.”

  As they left the room, her mother hovered in the hall with Beverly’s best bonnet and handed it to her. “I do hope you and Lord Jason can stay to dinner, Your Grace.”

  “We should be delighted, Mrs. Crabtree.”

  Heated flooded Mama’s face. “If you’ll excuse me, I must instruct Cook.”

  Beverly led him down the steps into the sunshine. “We’ll hear talk of this in the kitchen for a month of Sundays,” she confessed.

  Charles laughed.

  When they reached the river, Charles turned to her. “Did Jason tell you his name has been cleared?”

  “No!” Relief flooded through her. “He might have told me.”

  Charles laughed. “He was so happy to see you. He really didn’t get the chance. I won’t supply you the details, however. He’ll wish to tell you himself.”

  “I’d begun to fear we’d never see each other again.” She choked and pulled Jason’s freshly laundered handkerchief from her pocket.

  “Some things are meant to be.” Charles eyed the crest in the corner and smiled. “A trifle precipitate, but welcome to the family, Beverly.”

  She smiled shyly. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

  They turned as a large duck made a clumsy landing on the river and sent up a wide spray, wetting the duke’s boots and the hem of her dress. The duke retreated to a safe distance.

  “That’s Gaffey,” she said, horrified and embarrassed. “He’s sweet but a little too fond of his food.”

  “I suspect you aren’t fattening him up for Christmas,” the duke said with a laugh.

  “Oh, no,” she gasped. “Not Gaffey!”

  ***

  Jason walked from the trees into the sunshine. He spied Beverly and his brother by the river.

  “I have become decidedly de trop,” Charles said as Jason joined them. “I gather by the look on your face, all went well. My felicitations.”

  “Yes, very well, thank you, Charles.”

  After his brother walked away, Jason shook his head with a rueful grin. “That’s Charles for you, always trying to steal my thunder.”

  He drew her into his arms and kissed her. “I’ve been thinking of doing that all the way here,” he said when he finally drew away.

  His kisses made her breathless, his lips warm and soft. She smiled, her heart pounding. “Papa has consented to our marriage? Oh, Jason. I can hardly believe it!”

  “Believe it, my love.”

  She clung onto him, her knees unsteady. “Tell me what happened in Oxford.”

  “The chaplain obtained a signed confession from one of the men who accused me,” he said. “Basil Wheelwright admitted that a lark he and Bernard Forbush concocted, turned into something far more serious when the bowman, Anthony Fordham, was knocked unconscious when he fell into the water and almost drowned. When I overheard them speaking of it, they decided to lay the blame on me. Basil has since passed away.”

  She gazed lovingly up at him. “It’s miraculous how it’s all turned out. Papa, too.”

  “Thanks to Lord Daintith.”

  “Grandpapa is wonderful! I’m so happy I’ve finally got to know him and to learn more about my family.”

  “He is quite an extraordinary gentleman. I’m pleased to have met him.”

  “Did Papa agree to have the wedding held at Deane Abbey?” she asked.

  “I thought it might be better if we broach that subject together.”

  “I pray he does. It will help to put an end to the family feud. But I don’t care where we marry. I love you so much, Jason. I just want to be with you.”

  “I feel the same, darling.” He pressed a kiss to her palm. “I feared Mrs. Dove-Lyon would have sent some suitor down here to claim you.”

  She shook her head at him. “As if I would look at another man.”

  “My good friend, Will Denning, tells me Mr. Perlew came to the Lyon’s Den to advise Mrs. Dove-Lyon that he wouldn’t require her services. He is to marry Miss George.”

  “Oh, I am so pleased for her,” Beverly cried. “I am sure they will suit very well.”

  “Mm. Few surprises there.” He held her close. “Not a passionate marriage, I’ll wager. Apparently, there was a heated argument between him and Mrs. Dove-Lyon on the matter of fees. She had a bouncer remove Perlew from the premises.”

  “Oh, my goodness.” Beve
rly gave a peal of laughter.

  An arm around her waist, they gazed out over the river. “We could be in our house sooner than I thought. Charles is hopeful of breaking the trust.”

  “Tell me all about the property. I want to know every detail.”

  “There’s excellent woodland and good pastures,” he began as they turned to walk back to the house. “And the manor house, although not grand, is comfortable.”

  Epilogue

  “Come back to bed, sweetheart.”

  Beverly turned from the hotel window. She had been watching a golden eagle soar and dip over the beautiful Scottish loch where they were honeymooning. “Wasn’t the wedding perfect?” she asked again as she slipped into the bed beside him and leaned her head against his chest, his arms enclosing her. “The chapel was glorious, wasn’t it? All marble and gold with urns of white flowers everywhere. I’ll never forget walking down the aisle on Papa’s arm, with you so handsome, standing at the altar with Charles.”

  She smiled as she recalled how Grandpapa nodded his approval, seated in the pew beside her mother, her mother-in-law, her sister, Anabel, all the way from Wales, with her husband and their children, and Granville; the rest of the pews filled with friends and relatives. Then the sumptuous wedding breakfast which followed the signing of the register, and finally, the orchestra playing Mozart in the ballroom as she and Jason danced a waltz.

  “You were the most beautiful bride in all of England.” Jason kissed the sensitive hollow beneath her ear.

  She leaned into him, breathing in his scent. “It was wonderful to see Mama and Grandpapa on good terms again.” She traced her fingers through the curls of dark hair on his chest, circling a dark brown nipple. “Grandpapa and Papa were polite to each other, but I doubt they will ever be close.” Although very different men, her father was eternally grateful to her grandfather. “It doesn’t matter if they’re not so close,” she said. “For Mama is happy.”

  “Mm.” Jason slowly and provocatively eased her nightgown up over her legs.

  “And I thought your mother charming.”

  “I don’t wish to speak of my mother now, Beverly.”

  She felt his arousal, and her pulse quickened. “And next week, we move into our home. I shall be very busy.”

  “I intend to keep you very busy,” he said.

  Her nightgown was tossed onto a chair, and Jason’s long body covered hers. His heated look inflamed her, driving a surge of passionate need through her.

  “I love you.” She stroked the satiny skin on his broad shoulders and back. How thrilling a man’s body was.

  “I adore you, my love.” Jason kissed her and ran a hand over the curve of her hip and belly to the vee of hair below. She shivered slightly. “Are you cold, sweetheart?”

  “No,” she murmured. “Don’t stop, Jason.”

  “Shall I pull up the bedcover?”

  She shook her head. “I like to look at my handsome husband.”

  “Do you, my temptress?” He kissed her mouth, then nibbled and kissed his way down her to her breasts.

  Jason gently cupped her breasts and teased first one nipple, then the other with his tongue. Grabbing fistfuls of the sheet, she moaned, arching her hips in invitation. She ached for him. She would never tire of making love to him. “Now, Jason.”

  “You have beautiful legs, my love,” he murmured huskily. Ignoring her demands, he gently held her foot in his hand and kissed her toes, making her giggle, then moved up her leg to press his lips to the inside of her knee.

  When Jason’s kisses reached her inner thigh, she wriggled and mewed with pleasure as he found that special place. His clever fingers and his mouth taunted her, stirring a fierce, demanding need. “Oh… please.” Her fingers raked his hair, then gripped his shoulders. Exquisite sensations built and became almost unbearable, then shattered and sent her spinning. She fell back on the pillow in a delicious afterglow.

  His blue eyes smoldered. “Now, my love?”

  She shivered at the raw heat in his eyes. He kissed her hard, his breath coming fast. Then he eased her thighs apart and entered her with a moan. His long, slow thrusts built exquisite sensations that brought her closer to another climax. How strong he was, his muscles flexing as he moved. She was now an experienced married woman. Jason was the perfect lover, but she wanted to please him. That book of erotic drawings she’d found in the library at Deane Abbey was most helpful. She blushed as she murmured a suggestion in his ear.

  He began to thrust harder, causing Beverly’s thoughts to scatter. “That, my bewitching beauty,” Jason lamented, “will have to wait!” He groaned. “At least until after luncheon.”

 

 

 


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