The Lyon’s Alliance (The Lyon’s Den Connected World)

Chapter Ten

“P lease excuse me.” Mrs. Hartfield rose, followed by Richard and Wolf. “I must see to Mr. Hartfield. Christina, please bring up your Father’s tray when it’s ready. He’ll eat if you bring it to him. Gentlemen, please return to your seats and enjoy your meal.” The thick carpet muffled her footsteps as she crossed the room and departed.

Richard and Wolf quietly took their seats, the air heavy with unspoken tension.

Christina’s heart fluttered like a caged bird caught between the two men who now occupied the room. With his polished manners and keen intellect, Richard was a confidant—a friend who listened when the world turned deaf. And then there was Wolf—the charismatic, brooding viscount whose gaze held secrets she longed to unravel.

Mrs. Hartfield’s departure had left a void, a space where unspoken words hung like mist in the morning air. Christina’s gaze shifted from Richard’s earnest expression to Wolf’s guarded eyes.

The London Chronicle’s gossip weighed heavily on her. Wolf’s disappearance at the concert, the mysterious circumstances surrounding it, and the subsequent award bestowed upon him in his absence. It was all fodder for scandal.

Christina’s fingers traced the delicate pattern on the damask cloth. She had seen the headlines with its half-truths and conjecture. But what did she truly know? Wolf’s absence had left a void in her own life—a gap she couldn’t explain, even to herself. His return had been equally mysterious, his eyes holding a storm of emotions he refused to share.

Richard cleared his throat, breaking the silence. His gaze flickered toward Wolf with an unspoken question. Christina wondered if he, too, wrestled with doubts—the loyalty to a friend versus the allure of a mystery.

And Wolf? His jaw clenched, the tension in his shoulders tangible. What is his military service that etched the lines of determination on his face? What secrets did he guard?

The air hung heavy with unspoken words, and Christina wondered what each man’s purpose was.

Richard buttered his toast while Wolf fixed his gaze on the teacup in his hand, unwilling to meet Richard’s eyes for fear of saying something he knew he would regret. Yet, avoiding confrontation with Richard only had his stomach churning.

Everything he rehearsed to tell Christina raced out of his mind as she and Richard discussed something. He tried to focus on their discussion but found himself unable to pay attention. Wolf sipped his coffee and observed the casual banter between them, feeling increasingly left out by their closeness. No, he didn’t care for being overlooked.

“Is that correct, Wolf?”

He froze for a moment. Both Richard and Christina stared at him in anticipation of him responding. To what? He had no idea.

“Do you know who the gossip’s source in the London Chronicle may be?” Christina repeated.

Shaking his head, he turned to face them. “Whoever prepared the story had to have gone to the paper’s office directly after the concert last night for it to be included in this morning’s edition.” He focused sharpened. “St. John, did you see anyone from the London Chronicle last night or a likely suspect?”

“No. I didn’t. To be honest, I wasn’t looking at the people in the crowd.” Richard nibbled on his toast.

Wolf focused on Richard, who sat across the table. The man’s admiration for Christina was evident—the way his eyes lingered on her, the subtle curve of his lips as she spoke.

His friend’s polished manners and easy charm had won hearts across ballrooms and drawing rooms. But this—this was different. Richard’s gaze held a hunger, a longing that cut deeper than mere politeness.

Oblivious to the silent exchange, Christina leaned forward to pour herself another cup of chocolate. Her laughter tinkled like crystal, and Wolf’s chest tightened. She was exquisite—the chestnut curls framing her face, the delicate curve of her neck. And Richard? He watched her as if she were the morning sun illuminating his world.

Wolf’s fingers clenched around the teacup. He had no claim over Christina and no right to stake a claim. But damn it all, what will it take to pull her away from Richard’s orbit, to whisper secrets against her skin, to taste the sweetness of her lips.

And so, at the breakfast table, Wolf grappled with desire and duty. Christina’s laughter echoed, and Richard’s admiration burned. Envy simmered, creating a bitter brew he couldn’t swallow.

“The two of you were a handsome pair when you entered the concert hall.” Richard rose and headed to the sideboard with his plate. “Everyone’s eyes were on Christina.”

Wolf felt the heat rise, staining his cheeks crimson. Before he could say anything, Richard pressed on, “The concert was better than expected. You had no idea about the award ceremony.” He set his plate on the table, stood by his chair, and faced Wolf directly. “Did you?”

Wolf didn’t move. “No, I did not.” He spit the words out between clenched teeth. “Although Lord and Lady Reynolds must have been told. They do not usually attend concerts. I found it odd when I saw them.”

“Excuse me, Miss Hartfield.” Mr. Murthy stood at her side. “Your father’s tray is ready. Would you prefer I bring it to him?”

“No, that won’t be necessary.” She stood and turned to her guests. “Please excuse me. I bring Papa his tray every morning.” The men began to stand. “Please remain seated. I won’t be long.” With that, she followed Mr. Murthy out the door.

Wolf and Richard remained seated at the table. Now alone, the room was heavy, with words left unspoken. After a moment, Richard cleared his throat, breaking the silence.

“I couldn’t help but notice your abrupt departure last night.” Richard took a bite of the eggs. “Christina was quite taken aback when you were nowhere to be found.”

Wolf toyed with his spoon, avoiding Richard’s gaze. “I apologize if I caused any distress. It wasn’t my intention.”

“Your apology is directed at the wrong person. Regardless of intentions, leaving her like that was rather unbecoming even for you, wouldn’t you agree?”

Who was Richard to reprimand him? A flicker of anger flashed through him like a bolt of lightning. But when he glanced at Richard, he saw a sympathetic man.

“You carry a heavy burden, Wolf. You were acknowledged last evening. Whether it was justified or not is not the issue. You chose to reject the accolade. This isn’t the first time you’ve walked away from recognition. It’s most likely why the ceremony was kept a secret.” Richard paused. A chuckle softened his tone. “But you got the last laugh. You weren’t there.”

Wolf smiled, but there was a hint of bitterness in his expression. A soft snicker escaped his lips. “I did that.” After a few heartbeats, he added, his tone chilly, “I understand your concern about my absence, Richard. It is why I am here.”

Richard had shifted from his eggs to the bacon and tilted his head, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. He put down his fork and straightened in his seat, a hint of concern in his eyes.

“Thank you for your understanding.” Christina swept into the room.

Both men rose from their seats, Richard putting down his serviette as he faced her. The room’s icy mood was thawing.

“Papa asked that I relay his regards.” Christina’s gaze shifted to Wolf. “He wanted me to extend his congratulations on last night’s award. He feels many forget those who have served and returned.” With that, Christina took her seat.

Wolf followed suit, exchanging a glance with Christina as Richard remained standing.

“Thank you and your mother for your time this morning. I must be going,” Richard said.

“Are you certain? You’re welcome to stay.” Christina twisted the edge of her serviette.

Wolf sensed an underlying unease in her voice. She almost sounded afraid to be alone with him, which made him more anxious about Richard leaving. He forced himself not to fidget.

“That is kind of you. We can discuss the astronomy program later. You provided enough information for me to bring it to the committee later today. Thank you again.” Turning to Wolf, Richard gave a nod. “Wolf.” Richard made his way into the hall and out the front door.

Wolf placed his serviette on the table and turned in his seat to face Christina. Prepared to express himself as succinctly as possible and leave, he hesitated. After much deliberation, he decided to invent a simple explanation—that he and his friend were in a conversation and were unaware of how long he’d been away.

Now, as he looked at her, he knew she would see his deception.

“Would you like to join me in the drawing room? It’s more conducive to a conversation.” Christina rose from her seat.

He stood, walked over to her, and extended his hand. All the anger seemed to dissolve as he peered into her eyes. “I’d be happy to join you.”

She gathered her shawl and the London Chronicle , accepted his hand, and they both made their way into the drawing room. She put what she had in her hands on the table and then led Wolf to the high-backed chairs. The setting afforded them privacy as they faced each other.

“I came here for several reasons.” He leaned forward and took her hands. “To return your shawl.”

“Yes, thank you.” Her terse response made him uncomfortable.

“I found it on the bench when I returned to the concert hall.” Wolf paused. He wished he had brandy rather than coffee. This was more difficult than he thought. “I also found you gone—”

“Wolf, there is no need—” She attempted to pull her hands away, but he held her firmly. She looked at him, surprised.

“Yes, there is. Thomas and I had grown up together and attended Eton together. We were brothers in every way but blood.” He took a breath to calm his racing heart. “We looked after each other. He was the daring one, while I was more conservative. Isn’t that funny? Me, the conservative one.” His forehead was damp, and he knew he had to get the words out. “I couldn’t save him.”

Wolf stared at their hands, but his mind was somewhere else. “We were outnumbered, facing a superior force. Yet, he ran out before anyone could stop him. The men held me back from going after him. I knew what he was doing.”

A hushed gasp escaped her. “The garden game you played as children?”

He glanced at her with a soft smile. “Yes.”

“He was certain a lone Frenchman was firing on us and planned to go behind him. We kept the attention on us. One by one, the French picked us off. That was when we knew more than one Frenchman was hiding. But we kept firing. When Tommy attempted the ambush, the French were prepared.”

He dropped her hands and covered his face. “Bloody hell, why didn’t I go after him?”

Christina rose and went to the cellarette. When she returned, he was standing. She handed him a glass of brandy.

Wolf gazed at her, smiled weakly, and accepted the drink.

“When the battle was over, I was the one left. I made my way to Tommy. He was still alive. I did what I could, hoping reinforcements would arrive. I held him like a baby, rocked, and talked to him to keep him awake. That’s when Barrington arrived. He brought Tommy and me to the field hospital.”

“Terrible things happen in war, but you know that better than I.” Christina nodded toward the glass in his hand. “Come, drink up.”

“Who do you think is the mystery author?” she asked. He drank the brandy and was glad she shifted the conversation away from the current topic.

“I have another confession. I wanted to accompany Mrs. Dove-Lyon to these Society events. Wherever I go, there is gossip. I thought Mrs. Dove-Lyon was accustomed to people’s chatter, and I certainly pay no heed to it. When she had to step away from attending the events and suggested I accompany you as her replacement, I thought there would be no gossip.”

“I didn’t anticipate the uproar either.” Christina hadn’t moved away from him. “I suppose we will laugh at the fuss when we reflect on the events. I do wish I knew who was orchestrating this.”

“I spoke with Lady Grace.” Wolf hesitated briefly. “She is well-connected, and I thought she might know who was giving the London Chronicle information. However, she wasn’t aware of the culprit but assured me she would make it her business to find out. It is just a matter of time.” He paused. “The final event, the gala, is a fitting end to this charade.”

Christina nodded. She removed the empty glass from his hands and placed it on the table next to her. “Yes. Perhaps by then, the gossip will tire of us. Move on to fresher scandals.”

Wolf’s gaze lingered on her. “And if it doesn’t?”

She met his eyes and smiled. “Then we face it.”

“At the moment, it is crucial that you forgive me,” he added.

Her open expression faded into one of surprise. Christina opened her mouth but hesitated.

He allowed himself a small smile, feeling a rare surge of mischief. As he did, he felt his usual guardedness ease, replaced by a sense of openness he seldom showed, a playful and vulnerable side that he rarely let others see.

Gently gathering her in his arms. Wolf lifted her face. An expectant hush fell over the room. The warmth of her skin against his palms was intoxicating, but his mind was on the wager with Mrs. Dove-Lyon. He couldn’t afford to lose it.

A breath apart, he studied her eyes. They held anger and distrust, but he had to change her mind. He lowered his lips onto hers, not out of love but out of necessity.

Her lips were soft, softer than he’d imagined. He tasted the hint of tea along with the sweetness of vulnerability. The kiss was a revelation, a promise whispered in the quiet of a shared breath. Wolf was on a precipice where desire met strategy, where longing collided with his need to win.

He stepped back, breaking the spell, and Christina’s eyes fluttered open. His gaze lingered on her, he needed to gauge her reaction. She was a means to an end, a vision that defied reason only in how she could help him get what he wanted.

He stepped back even farther, aware of the raw emotion that must have shown in his eyes. He didn’t mean to reveal so much, yet he couldn’t help but wonder if she could ever understand the depth of what he felt at that moment.

“Mrs. Dove-Lyon, how good it is to see you,” they heard her mother greeting their friend on the other side of the closed door.

“I must leave,” he murmured and glanced at the door.

“Here.” She took him across the room and opened a servant’s door. “Across the passage, you will find the servant’s door to the terrace. I used this path when I was younger and wanted to go out unnoticed.”

“You are full of surprises.” He smiled. “Thank you, Christina.”

“Now, hurry before Mrs. Dove-Lyon sees you.” Wolf left, and she closed the door behind him. She stood where she was until she heard the outside door close.

Satisfied Wolf was safely away, she took a book off the shelf. She needed time to think about what happened. Wolf had just shared his deepest secret with her. The kiss might be a sign of his relief or perhaps…She had no idea why he kissed her. She knew it was gentle and sweet.

There was a magnetism about Wolf and a sense of danger and excitement with a touch of his non-interest. She could easily see why women wanted his attention. And he kissed nicely, very nicely.

She glanced at the astronomy book in her hand, shook her head as she sat in the winged chair, and began to read while she waited for her mother and Mrs. Dove-Lyon to enter. She didn’t have long to wait.