Page 3 of The Lyon’s Lass

“Lord Blakehall is aware of the situation,” the doctor used his title. One Maisy and Jack had changed to Blakehell when he was not around.

Will he provide for us? Jack asked, his eyes—the same light brown as her own—widened in concern. At sixteen, her younger brother stood over her by nearly a foot and was a few inches taller even than Nelson.

Maisy frowned. While Nelson might provide for her, she knew this would be Nelson’s opportunity to send Jack to an asylum. Even though Jack’s lack of hearing was completely Nelson’s fault.

Maisy often wondered if Nelson’s hatred of their younger brother came from jealousy at seeing how pleasant and happy Jack was, misplaced anger that Jack’s birth had taken their mother away, or guilt over the injury Nelson had inflicted when Jack was only eight years old.

Whatever the cause, Maisy knew Nelson would never allow Jack to stay on. Which meant Maisy needed to do something.

Marrying had always been her plan, but she’d never drawn the interest of a man who would agree to bring Jack with them to their home. She’d refused every offer, until no more were forthcoming.

Perhaps if she married someone beneath her station she would be allowed to bring Jack with her, but that would mean losing her dowry.

One thing was clear, their dark and dismal townhome would yield no results. She needed help.

She and Jack walked swiftly through Mayfair to Harding House, where they were quickly shown to the morning room. Caroline—Maisy’s very best friend—came bustling into the room immediately.

“I’m so glad you could come to visit today,” Lady Harding said with a smile. She had married during their second season and while her husband was older, he was kind and made Caroline content.

“We are in need of your assistance, I’m afraid,” Maisy said as a tea tray was brought in. Her brother—ever hungry—got up to make a fair job of stripping it clean.

“Whatever is the matter?”

“My father is unwell. The doctor thinks he will leave us in a month.”

“Oh, dear.” Maisy knew Caroline’s concern was not as much for their father’s condition as it was for the situation Maisy and Jack would find themselves in. “What will you do?”

“I’m not sure.” Maisy cast a glance toward Jack to make sure his attention was drawn elsewhere. “I will need to marry. Someone who will also accept Jack into his home.”

Caroline bothered her bottom lip with her teeth. She didn’t need to say what Maisy already knew.

“I know that plan has not worked out previously, but there has to be someone who would take a strapping boy into his household. He loves horses, he would be pleased to work in the stables. I just want him to be safe and happy.”

Caro stood and walked around, and Maisy noticed the way she rested her hand on her stomach. Maisy guessed her friend was with child again, but would wait until she shared her news rather than ask.

Caroline turned and tilted her head.

“You remember my cousin, Annabeth.”

“The lady who was caught out in the park with no chaperone or escort?” Maisy didn’t know why she would come up in this conversation.

“Yes. She is now the Lady Penbrook.”

“I hadn’t realized she’d married.” Maisy was surprised by the title as much as the fact she’d married at all.

“That’s because it was a hushed affair.” She shewed the staff from the room and waited for the doors to close them in before continuing. “There is a place in Whitehall called the Lyon’s Den.”

Maisy gasped. “Whatever do you know of such places? And why would you think I would want to go there?”

“You wouldn’t. At least, not normally. But… The Black Widow of Whitehall might be able to help you. She helps women with unsavory reputations find husbands. For a price.”

“Why would she help me? I have no unsavory reputation aside from growing old.”

“Then…” Caroline raised a blonde brow and smiled. “We shall have to find you one.”

Chapter Two

“I feel ridiculous in this noose,” Iain complained as Hodge tied Iain’s cravat with a skill Iain wondered at. “These breeches are so thin it’s as if my bollocks are just hanging out in the night air. And these shoes—”