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

Chapter Thirteen

“H as Mrs. Dove-Lyon gone?” Christina’s mother came down the steps as Christina closed the drawing room door.

“Yes, she left some time ago. She’s hosting a Society committee meeting and had to leave.”

“It took me longer than usual to settle your father. He’s upset about something, but will not tell me,” her mother remarked at the bottom of the staircase with a weary expression. Christina hadn’t noticed the black circles beneath her mother’s eyes had turned to bruises.

“You rest. I’ll go to the bookshop. I have nothing to do, and the work will keep me occupied.” Christina didn’t wait for her to respond. She reached for her shawl and reticule. Christina gladly took her mother’s place.

“Staying here will do me no good. I could use a diversion, too. Mr. Murthy will see to your father. But I could use your help.” Her mother’s expression was a mixture of relief mingled with gratitude.

Christina paused her hand on the latch as her mother took her coat and reticule. They stepped out of the house and hailed a passing hackney carriage. Fifteen minutes later, the carriage arrived at the bookshop, and they both hurried inside.

Her mother quickly put her to work. A half-hour later, she was ensconced in processing the new books ready for the shelves.

“Miss Hartfield.” Three young women stood in front of her desk.

Christina lifted her head. “Lady Grace. How good to see you. How can I help you?” Christina set the books aside and gave the group her full attention.

“My sisters and I—Lady Lily and Lady Beth—are looking for a book to read. What would you suggest?”

Christina glanced at them, recalling their excitement at the luncheon as they gossiped about the gentlemen. “Sir Walter Scott’s book Ivanhoe would be a good one for you. The story takes place in England in the Middle Ages when the nation was torn by strife. The valiant Saxon knight Wilfred of Ivanhoe returns home from the Crusades and finds it nothing like he left it. Stripped of his rank and disowned by his father, Ivanhoe begins a mission to restore his honor and win the love of the lovely Lady Rowena. With the Norman-Saxon conflict, the story has exciting jousts, epic sieges, and heroic rescues that paint a vivid picture of the clash between the emerging English national identity and Norman rule.”

Christina glanced at the women as they discussed the merits of the story. “There are other authors, such as Louisa Stanhope’s The Crusaders , or if you prefer poetry, John Keats’ The Eve of St. Agnes , and a collection of poems by Robert Burns.”

“We just received Mr. Sheeley’s Adonais if you’re interested.” Mrs. Murthy stepped behind the desk.

“No, Sir Scott’s Ivanhoe will more than do,” Lady Grace said. “I think it was the heroic rescues that caught my interest.” Christina hadn’t thought that Lady Grace had a sense of humor.

“Come with me. I’ll show you where to find the book,” Christina said.

“That won’t be necessary. You file your books by the author’s last name.” Lady Grace hesitated a moment. “Miss Hartfield, the gown you wore last night at the concert was breathtaking.”

Christina blinked, startled at the comment. She barely knew the woman.

“I don’t mean to embarrass you. Truly, I don’t. I noticed your shawl in the lobby and would have taken it to bring to you if Wolf hadn’t gotten to it before me. It is too beautiful to lose. Thank you for your help, Miss Hartfield.” Lady Grace smiled sweetly and turned to the others. “Ladies, shall we?”

Christina may have been startled, but Lady Grace’s declaration didn’t surprise her. It seemed everyone was aware Wolf had left her stranded. But it was interesting that Lady Grace wanted her to know. She watched them walk to the correct bookcase. Shaking her head, she returned to the desk, gathered a stack of books, and brought them to the bookcase at the back of the shop. They needed to be added to the shelves.

The bell on the door tinkled. Christina was getting the ladder and didn’t bother looking up. She needn’t worry. Mrs. Murthy was at the desk now.

Balancing the books in her hands, Christina climbed up the ladder. As she reached to replace one of the books, it slipped from her grasp and tumbled to the ground below. Before Christina could react, a hand appeared out of nowhere, and swiftly retrieved the fallen book. Startled, she glanced down to find Richard standing there, an understanding smile on his lips as he handed the book back to her.

“Thank you.” She took the book from him and slotted it back into place among the others. With all the books in order, she started down the ladder.

Richard’s hand reached out to steady her, sending an unexpected rush of warmth through her and making her heart flutter, accompanied by a tingling sensation that prickled her arm where his touch lingered. She tilted her head slightly and glanced at him.

“Watch your step.” Richard’s attention was focused on ensuring her safety.

The sensation was fleeting, gone almost as quickly as it had come, but it left her breathless, her heart needing time to return to normal. Surprised by the sudden surge of emotion, she quickly dismissed it. She attributed it to Richard’s unexpected touch. Yes, that must have been the reason.

“I should have been here sooner. I could have done that for you.” His hand still gently clasped hers. As they continued their conversation, the memory of the fleeting sensation lingered.

She stepped off the ladder and felt him hesitate a moment before releasing her hand.

“You rescued me again. You are indeed my Sir Galahad.” She laughed, though the thought lingered in her mind, stirring a curious warmth. It was the second time she was struck by his gallantry.

He took a playful pose, planting his feet wide and placing his fisted hands on his hips. “How do I look, knightly?” His laughter joined hers. Beneath the light banter, her mind was still preoccupied with the lingering sensation of his touch.

“Hush.”

“I’m so sorry.” Christina apologized to the people nearby, her face flushing with embarrassment. Ignoring the curious glances, she gently tugged on Richard’s hand. “Come with me.”

She led him to the private office in the back of the shop and closed the door.

“Mrs. Hartfield.” Richard came to an abrupt halt just inside the threshold, his initial smile fading as his eyes swept across the cluttered room. It was a chamber dominated by books. Their spines crammed onto several overburdened shelves lining two of the walls. The third boasted a solitary brazier and an overwhelmed desk. The fourth wall stood barren, a stark contrast to the chaos reigning within.

To call the room disordered would be a gross understatement. Piles of books lay haphazardly across the table, their pages splayed open as if protesting their neglect. The shelves, though numerous, were only partially occupied, with stacks of papers precariously teetering on the brink of collapse.

A solitary window, obscured by a layer of grime, cast feeble light into the dim space, and scattered supplies littered the desk. Inkwells, quills, and parchment lay strewn about in disarray, while an assortment of miscellaneous items cluttered the surfaces, their purpose lost amidst the chaos.

Above the desk, a notice board hung forlornly, with a motley collection of aged memorabilia that seemed frozen in time. Yellowing sheets of paper and crumpled letters bore witness to the passage of months, if not years, of neglect.

A solitary picture frame was propped up against the desk. A serene and elegant woman sat amidst a pastel garden, immersed in the book on her lap. The juxtaposition of the tranquil picture against the tumultuous disarray of the room only served to underscore the chaos of the room.

“Oh, dear. I haven’t seen that expression since Christina came home wet from jumping in puddles.” Mrs. Hartfield gave him a warm smile, her eyes twinkling with amusement. Christina couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the memory.

“She’s a daring person, is she?” Richard glanced at Christina.

Mrs. Hartfield nodded, casting a glance in Christina’s direction.

“Yes, I am. Puddles have been terrified of me ever since.” Christina’s quip and playful smirk, which brightened her features, were a silent invitation. She swept the books from the chairs and gestured for him to sit.

“I’m here to tell you that the presentation went well.” Richard guided Christina to her seat before taking his own beside her. “The board has approved our children’s program. They plan to announce it at Saturday’s gala.”

Christina beamed. She squeezed Richard’s hand. “This is wonderful news indeed.”

Wolf had visited Gower Street for tea, but upon discovering that Christina was at the bookshop, he thought to surprise her there. When he arrived, he hesitated going inside and glanced through the large window. There she was, perched on a tall ladder, a book slipping from her grasp. His attention was drawn to Richard, who appeared by her side. As he debated whether to enter, the door swung open. Lady Grace and her two sisters stepped outside, each with a book in hand.

“Lady Grace,” he acknowledged with a nod, his attention momentarily drawn to the window. He was acutely aware of Christina and Richard’s retreat to a room in the back, a detail he registered with a subtle tension in his jaw. It was an involuntary reaction, one he quickly sought to mask.

“What a pleasant surprise, my lord.” Lady Grace nodded, and her sisters dipped a slight curtsy.

Anger simmered beneath the surface, Wolf’s target clear and simple—Richard. The sight of him with Christina, leading her into a back room, was more than he could tolerate. It wasn’t just a pang of envy. He couldn’t confront Christina, not when his emotions were so raw. Instead, he made a quick decision. He fixed a smile on his face and turned to Lady Grace.

“Ladies. It’s a fine day for a walk. Will you join me?”

“We’d be happy to join you.” Lady Grace’s sisters looked startled. Lady Grace didn’t bother to ask them.

Lady Grace placed her hand on his arm and exchanged a brief glance with her sisters before handing them her book. “Shall we, my lord.”

Lady Lily and Lady Beth lingered behind her and Wolf as they walked on.