Page 10 of The Lyon’s Paw

His mother’s brows dipped in a frown, marring her previously tranquil expression, but she shook her head. “Of course, my dear. Do what you must.”

Geoffrey rose, folding the letter against prying eyes, and headed for the door slowly, resisting the urge to bolt. Once through the portal, however, he hurried along the corridor, down the stairs to the ground floor and the sanctuary of his library. He sped inside, turned and locked the door, then leaned his head against it, trying to draw strength from the stout oak panel. Not even settled in his mind about having to sacrifice his estates, he now had this cup of poison shoved beneath his nose.

Straightening, Geoffrey headed for his desk, the mahogany behemoth that had been his father’s, and sat down, the letter clutched in his hand. He glanced over at the sideboard, wishing he’d detoured over there first for a glass of brandy. No, better he deal with this with a clear head. He unfolded the piece of paper and began to read again, his whole body tensed as if ready to fend off a blow it knew was coming.

Lord Longford,

I have recently had the foresight to purchase the mortgages on several of your properties, including Longford Manor located in Middlesex. I am willing, even eager in fact, to relinquish the papers for these properties back to you, if you will, in exchange, allow me to marry your sister, Lady Joanna Longford.

That had been as far as Geoffrey had been able to read before dropping his astonished eyes to the signature at the bottom of the letter.

Marcus Dandridge

Geoffrey’s heart went cold. The name belonged to a man whose reputation he knew well, unfortunately.

Dandridge, son of a day laborer, was the sole owner of The Dandy, a gambling den tucked away in St. James, with a wild reputation and a clientele of young aristocrats backed by their fathers’ money. How he’d raised the money for such an elite establishment was a subject of wild speculation in Geoffrey’s circles. Rumors of smuggling, burglary, and extortion ran rampant. However, Dandridge had amassed the funds to procure and refurbish the abandoned haberdashery by the time he’d turned twenty-one, leading London society to speculate that his money had come from unsavory or illegal sources. He now also owned several less savory hells down in the Seven Dials district, the very thought of which made Geoffrey shudder. Every night there was a brawl in one of Dandridge’s establishments, or a stabbing, or a shooting. Yet the man had managed to amass a fortune out of the profits of the gambling dens. Dandridge had gained the reputation of a ruthless man in these hells, he himself sometimes acting as bouncer, breaking heads and tossing people out the door if they became too unruly or cheated. Rumors of his patrons being beaten or killed for not paying their gambling debts abounded.

Wishing desperately for that brandy now, Geofrey lifted his gaze back to the letter and continued reading.

If you are willing to come to an accord on this matter, please send me word that we may proceed. If, however, you decline my most generous offer, my solicitor will be contacting you regarding the immediate payment of the twenty thousand pounds owing me.

Twenty thousand pounds. An almost unimaginable sum. Dandridge must have bought up the mortgages on every property Geoffrey owned. Head spinning, he rose at last and stumbled over to the sideboard, poured a tumbler full of brandy then drained the glass almost at a gulp. The usually steadying burn merely scorched his throat and his already roiling stomach threatened revolt. What the hell was he to do?

His first thought was to meet with Dandridge, try to persuade him against this ludicrous demand. Fortunately, his common sense took over immediately. All that could come of such a meeting would be Geoffrey’s anger getting the better of him and leading to an altercation between him and Dandridge, which might leave Geoffrey irreparably wounded or dead. With her brother out of the picture, Dandridge would be free to pursue Joanna unfettered, likely with threats of eviction if she didn’t marry him. Or worse, he might convince her to become his mistress.

Geoffrey shuddered. He had to stay alive, for all their sakes.

His next thought was to contact Thomas, but that was futile. His friend, while comfortably well off, could never raise such a sum nor would Geoffrey wish him to do so. Selling all the properties was the only solution, although even that was no guarantee they would fetch enough money to pay off Dandridge.

He stared at the letter, trying to reason it out. Why had the man chosen to fixate on Joanna of all people? Not that any gentleman in his right mind wouldn’t wish to marry his sister. He’d already realized he was going to be run ragged all summer keeping a close eye on her during her Season. With her dowry, excellent lineage, and the face of an angel, his sister would likely be the most sought-after guest for every entertainment and partner in every ballroom. Even though she wasn’t out yet, he’d assume Dandridge had his sources to keep tabs on just about everyone in London. Had he managed to meet her somewhere and that was what was driving this ultimatum? All irrelevant questions. If the man was willing to stoop to extortion to ensure the marriage, he was determined to have his sister at any cost. And that was something Geoffrey would not stand for, if he had to kill the rogue himself. Never would he allow his sister to marry such a monster.

But perhaps he could.

Slowly, Geoffrey lowered his glass, an idea taking hold of him. He hurried back to the desk, pulled pen, ink, and paper toward him and began to write furiously. Moments later, he rang the bell, then folded the note and finished sealing it.

Vickers entered the library. “You rang, my lord?”

With a sigh, Geoffrey held the letter out to the butler. “Send this with a footman immediately. Tell him to wait for a reply.”

“What’s the direction, my lord?”

“Mrs. Dove-Lyons at The Lyon’s Den.”

Chapter Four

“Well, that’s the end of it.” Diana waved the letter she’d just opened, her heart beating as though it would burst.

“And?” Aunt Frances had brought the letter to her as soon as it arrived and was hovering over her shoulder. “What does Lord Merryweather say?”

“As expected, Dante has proven to be a disappointment.” She’d known the odds weren’t good that he’d agree to marry her, even if she wasn’t insisting on keeping the bulk of her money through the settlements. That seemed to be the sticking point with the few friends she’d approached with the proposition. That, and her unsavory reputation.

“Even with the generous amount you were offering to settle on him if he agreed?” The shocked sound of her aunt’s voice made Diana giggle, even though this had become no laughing matter.

“Well, he has the best excuse of anyone I’ve approached.” Diana looked up at her aunt, her mouth puckered. “He married in the spring. That’s why he wasn’t around during the Season. He was on his honeymoon in Paris.” And Diana wasn’t completely sorry he couldn’t marry her. Although she and the Earl of Merryweather had been acquainted since childhood, they had never seen eye to eye on anything. Dante’s interests had run to art, museums, and theaters while she had been more attracted to outdoor pursuits, such as horseback riding and gardening. He had exquisite taste and a purse that could support his extravagant purchases of objects de art. “I’d have been unhappy had I married him.”

“You will be even more unhappy if you lose your inheritance.” She put her arms around Diana. “Is there truly no one else who might marry you?”

“I assure you there is not, aunt.” Diana trailed after Aunt Frances, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She was going to lose a vast fortune simply because no one wished to marry her. “I have written to or spoken with every gentleman of my acquaintance who is not one of my cousins, who I absolutely refuse to consider. They are the reason I am in this predicament.” She flopped down onto the chaise, her aunt sitting down beside her. Tears welled up in her eyes and she leaned against the comforting shoulder. It was so unfair that Uncle George had insisted she marry before she could inherit his money. Did he not understand how difficult this would make it for her? “There is simply no one left to ask.”