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

Chapter Fourteen

W olf and the Talbot sisters left busy Albemarle Street in the late afternoon. They enjoyed the sun-painted amber and gold sky and the gentle breeze.

“I am pleased to have chanced upon you,” Lady Grace began. “Your performance of Beethoven’s sonata was utterly captivating.”

He hadn’t thought of the impromptu concert in days.

“The way you brought out the nuances and emotions in the piece was masterful. It was the highlight of the luncheon for many of us. You truly have a remarkable talent for music.”

“Thank you, Lady Grace. Lady Hazelton has a habit of asking me to play. There was a time when she played the piano. Technically, she played the piece well, but to me, she lacked passion. But that was a long time ago.”

“I torture my poor parents and anyone else who listens. My heart is there, but my ability is not.” She shook her head sadly.

“Nonsense. I’m sure you play quite well.”

“Oh, no, my lord. Not at all. I’m a total failure. If you’re eager for people to leave your soiree, invite me to the piano.”

He couldn’t help but laugh, and soon both of them were giggling.

They walked on, chuckling, nodding to people they passed who looked at them in horror.

“I think we’ve scared enough people for one day. It was good to laugh,” he said.

“You’re very quiet, my lord.”

“I could help you learn to play the piano. It would take some time, but all is not lost.”

Lady Grace stopped in her tracks. She merely stared at him, unable to speak.

“Lady Grace?” Wolf waited.

“I…I don’t know what to say?”

“We can start lessons after the Society gala. That will give you time to practice and be ready should you be called upon to play.” He leaned close to her and said, “Unless you’re not interested.”

“I’m most certainly interested.” She was quiet for a few heartbeats. “After the gala. That would be a perfect time to begin.”

They strolled through tree-lined avenues, passing elegant townhouses and charming storefronts. Lady Grace’s footsteps echoed alongside his.

“I was surprised when I saw your name on the list of board members of the Society,” Lady Grace said. “I had no idea you were interested in disadvantaged families.”

He chuckled softly. “Ah, you think that is women’s work.”

“No, no, not at all.” Lady Grace quickly corrected herself, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“Be honest, why did you think it strange that I am involved?” Wolf prodded gently.

“It is not in alignment with your character. It was a delightful surprise,” she admitted.

“Dare I ask you to explain?” He observed Lady Grace’s smile falter.

“To the world, you thrive on competition and thoroughly enjoy testing your charm and wit against others. Few know of your charity work.”

“I began volunteering at the Society’s facility to play Christmas songs for the children to sing. One thing led to another. Next thing I knew, I was on their board of directors.”

“That’s commendable of you, my lord. It speaks volumes about your humanity.”

They approached Hyde Park, and walked down a path flanked by towering trees. As they strolled along, they came to the Serpentine Lake and found a bench waiting for them by the water’s edge.

“Would you care to sit for a while?” He gestured toward the bench.

Lady Lily and Lady Beth sat on a bench nearby.

“Thank you.” Lady Grace removed her gloves and tucked them into her reticule. “My lord, I couldn’t help but wonder if you have any plans for future travels. You appear to possess a spirit that longs for adventure.”

“Along with my competitive nature.” He smirked as a flush ran up her neck. “I have none at the moment, but I am planning to return to Italy, to Milan.” He paused for a moment. He stayed at the Hazelton villa in the countryside near Florence. Every morning, he stared out at the rolling hills, vineyards, and olive groves.

“And you, Lady Grace, where would you go?”

“I’m eager to see the ancient ruins and feel the power and strength of Rome. Have you been there?”

“Yes, I have. If you have a penchant for ruins, Rome is the place to visit.”

“Perhaps,” Lady Grace began softly. She stood. “I’m afraid I must take my leave, my lord. My family will be expecting us home, and it wouldn’t do to keep them waiting.”

Wolf rose and offered her his hand. Her fingers wrapped around his palm, and for a moment, he froze. It was the first time he had felt her skin against his without something between them, and it felt oddly exhilarating. Collecting himself, he took a breath and waited for Lady Lily and Lady Beth to join them.

“Thank you, ladies, for your time. We must do this again.”

“It was our pleasure, my lord.” Lady Grace glanced over her shoulder. “Come, girls, we don’t want to be late.” She turned back to Wolf. “My lord.”

He touched his fingertips to the brim of his hat as the women departed, leaving him to consider the fleeting warmth of Lady Grace’s touch. Giving them one last glance, he watched as they disappeared into the distance, then turned on his way home.

Wolf settled into his study, the crisp pages of the afternoon paper in his hand. The headlines blurred before his eyes as his thoughts drifted to the morning’s encounter with Christina and her soft lips against his.

“Accompany her to the Society events,” he had agreed, believing their companionship at the Society’s gatherings would remain free of scandal. But reality had proven him wrong. What else had he misjudged? His mind flitted uneasily to the wager with Mrs. Dove-Lyon—a costly wager he now regretted with a sinking heart.

Losing this wager would entail far more than a mere financial setback. It would tarnish his reputation as a gentleman renowned for his fleeting romantic entanglements. He crushed the paper in his hand. It wasn’t the blunt he’d lose. It was the secret Mrs. Dove-Lyon demanded. He was certain she already knew what it was and wanted confirmation.

Desire flickered, but doubt crept in as Richard’s ever-present charm haunted him. The mere mention of his rival’s name twisted Wolfton’s gut in knots, and jealousy added its bitter flavor.

He intentionally missed today’s board meeting. Richard’s children’s program was planned to dominate the discussion. The document Richard presented was meticulously crafted. The estimated cost was not minimal by any means. Was Richard more than a friend to Christina? The thought unsettled him, fueling his inner turmoil. “I won’t lose the wager,” he said to the empty room.

And then there was Lady Grace—her laughter like sunlight, her eyes dancing with mischief. She had flirted shamelessly, and Wolf found himself drawn to her.

Her wit and charm made for a dangerous game, one that threatened to unravel his intentions. Christina was kind and gentle—a woman he admired. But Lady Grace? She was fire and ice, a tempest that stirred something primal within him. She was a welcome diversion very much like the other women that had been in his life. He needed nothing more.

Frustrated, he shook the paper to clear both the creases and his troubled mind. With a deep breath, he finally focused on the headline.

London Chronicle – April 28, 1821 – Evening Edition

Trade Scandal Rocks London’s FinancialCircles

London’s esteemed financial sector is awash with whispers of a scandal that has sent tremors through the heart of commerce. An intricate web of deceit and mismanagement has been uncovered within the esteemed halls of a prominent trading house, casting a shadow over the city’s mercantile reputation.

The nefarious dealings, meticulously concealed for an undisclosed period, have finally come to light through the diligent scrutiny of concerned parties within the trading community. It is alleged that a figure, whose identity remains veiled in secrecy, orchestrated a calculated scheme to divert substantial sums of money from the coffers of the esteemed enterprise.

While the accused individual’s name remains a closely guarded secret, speculation runs rampant regarding their motives and methods. An investigation has shown that his financial position had taken a turn for the worse in the last several months. But secret meetings and sudden unexplained wealth have been noticed. Authorities have been alerted to the affair, initiating inquiries to unearth the full extent of the malfeasance and bring those responsible to justice.

The ramifications of this revelation reverberate throughout London’s bustling financial district, igniting apprehension among investors, partners, and stakeholders alike. Doubts linger concerning the efficacy of internal oversight mechanisms, prompting calls for increased vigilance and transparency in commercial dealings.

As London’s mercantile elite grapple with the fallout from this scandal, the London Chronicle pledges to remain at the forefront of reporting, keeping readers abreast of developments as the city navigates this tumultuous chapter in its commercial history.

Wolf lowered the paper, scowling with concern. Who could be behind such a scandal? The financial circles of London were vast and powerful, yet he prided himself on his connections among the elite. Thankfully, his father’s prudent management had secured the family fortune, but others took risks, and now they teetered on the edge of financial ruin. How could he not know about this?

He’d have to remedy that. Perhaps a visit to the Lyon’s Den or his club, The Palladium Association, was in order. He could undoubtedly gather information at the gala. He would find a release for his pent-up energy tomorrow, perhaps a session with William Joyner or Rocco Bonetti. Either of these fencing masters would provide the challenge and focus he needed. The idea of the clash of steel, the precision of footwork, and the dance of blades—a world where physical exertion met mental discipline and where the boundaries of honor and skill blurred were what he needed. An hour of their time was all he needed.

Oh, for the wagging chins of gossipmongers. Where were they when you needed them?