Chapter Five

A sher stared down at the vision he had physically bumped into. Clear porcelain skin was framed in a round face with hazel eyes with hints of golden flecks in them. Her brown hair was done in a pleasing enough fashion with ringlets hanging at the sides of her face. A sprinkling of freckles ran from under her eyes and across the bridge of her nose giving him the impression she must enjoy the sunshine unlike other women of Society who insisted on always using a parasol. But it was that little bow mouth that made him want to taste her lips. She was an enchanting surprise and he wondered where she had been hiding each Season since they had never crossed paths before to his recollection.

You may call me Persephone . Her quiet words had jolted inside him like a bolt of lightning. The lady had a fair amount of gumption, he surmised and he certainly liked what he saw.

"Persephone?" he chuckled. "Daughter of Zeus and the Goddess of Spring."

"Indeed," Patience whispered.

"Then I suppose you might consider me Hades?" he asked in a husky tone.

Her mouth opened in an O of surprise. "Her husband in the underworld?"

"Is there any other?" he inquired stepping closer as he watched her carefully. A sudden gleam entered her eyes before a slight smile spread over those perfect lips.

"Considering where you just came from, perhaps Hades might fit. However, I may not be your Persephone."

Laughter erupted from him, and he noticed that her eyes went wide as if even she was surprised by her daring words. "What a delight you are."

"Perhaps I am too bold in my assumptions, my lord. I am only speculating since I've made an educated guess as to where those stairs lead," the lady declared before taking her fan dangling from her wrist and snapping it open. She waved the device frantically in front of her face as though the flames of hell were indeed igniting the room.

"You are bold, my lady, but I can't say that I am not impressed with your banter," he replied. "I shouldn't have teased you so, but I also admire that you can throw caution to the wind and return my jesting. Now, tell me, how can I find you again?" he urged hoping she would tell him her real name.

"I fear that you ask the impossible…" his mystery lady said softly with a look of disappointment. Now that was an interesting development.

But any further conversations were interrupted when one of the Lyon's Den's wolves returned from whatever had taken him away from his position near the stairs in the first place.

"My lord, you know the rules. You must go back downstairs where I believe Mrs. Dove-Lyon is waiting for you in her private office," the bouncer ordered crossing his arms over his chest.

Asher frowned at the man. "Your timing couldn't be worse, Flute," he grumbled as he watched the man shrug before holding out his arm toward the stairwell.

"I must go but I hope to see you again… Persephone ," he said emphasizing her false name before bowing over her hand.

"My lord… Hades ," she said with another delightful laugh.

Then she left him standing alone with only the bouncer for company as she returned to the gambling room. Asher watched her move around the gambling tables before she stole a glance in his direction. He continued to linger in the alcove watching her before Flute came and ushered him toward the stairs. He swore she gave him a seductive look before she was lost to his view but perhaps that was just wishful thinking on his part.

Asher made his way down the remaining stairs and across the gambling area to the widow's private office.

"I believe I am expected, Lysander," Asher drawled wondering what awaited him beyond the door.

"Indeed, you are, my lord," the bouncer said opening the door for him.

There was a soft click behind him that sounded oddly ominous. Or perhaps the sense of dread he felt was merely because he had no idea why she would wish a private word with him.

"Lord Rowley," the lady said from behind a large mahogany desk. "Please have a seat."

Asher came to stand before the desk and gave the lady a nod. "Mrs. Dove-Lyon… a pleasure." Sitting down he glanced around the room before looking to the woman dressed all in black. No one had ever seen her face and little was known about her except the rumor that after her husband died, he had left her with a mountain of debt and nothing with which to support herself except for this building, which had been her home. But then she created the Lyon's Den and it had become one of the best-known gambling establishments for the rich. Though everyone knew the Lyon's Den was mostly a front to her matchmaking business which was the real moneymaker for her.

"You wished to see me," Asher finally said when the black shrouded lady remained silent and he perceived she was inspecting him.

"Yes, I did and thank you for indulging my whim. You've been here a lot as of late. Do you enjoy my gambling tables, my lord?" the lady asked.

"They're the best in London despite some of the bets being on the unusual side," Asher remarked casually wondering where this conversation was going.

"And yet the cream of Society still comes here knowing… well… sometimes a lady must do as she must to achieve the end result of her plans."

"And am I a part of your current plans, Mrs. Dove-Lyon? If I am, I suggest you find another candidate. I have no intention of settling down any time soon," Asher said hoping his remarks would be the end of any further ideas the woman had for him.

"You do not need to marry, Lord Rowley? Surely every man with a title eventually needs to settle down and sire an heir."

"I have an heir in my brother. And if I do decide to have children, it doesn't need to happen any time soon," Asher drawled wishing he had a drink.

A laugh left the lady across from him. "Oh, Lord Rowley, gentlemen of your age amuse me so. You think you have all the time in the world at your disposal when some of the greatest pleasures life can offer are already passing you by."

"Like a wife?" he asked and his thoughts immediately went to the lady upstairs he had just bumped into.

"The right wife, Lord Rowley," the widow proclaimed sitting forward at her desk. "You will not find her upstairs with the women whose company you pay for, nor with any mistress you might keep."

Of course, this woman would know he had paid for the pleasure of an interlude with one of her ladies on the third floor. "I don't have a mistress, not that that is any of your business," he lied knowing he had been thinking of letting Florinda go. She had become demanding of late, which was the reason why he hadn't visited her townhouse for some time.

She waved a black-gloved hand in the air. "I make it my business to know the particulars of each and every man and woman who walks into the Lyon's Den—including their current entanglements. Hopefully your plans include releasing Mrs. Pickering from your arrangements with her at your earliest convenience."

Damn ! Of course, Mrs. Dove-Lyon knew about Florinda the intrusive woman. "Again… this is none of your business."

The woman sat back in her chair. "I understand. You think I'm a meddlesome woman who is trying to upend your life."

"I would never voice such a thought aloud," Asher replied knowing he had in fact thought just that.

A weary sigh emitted through the blackest veil he had ever seen on a widow. Her head tilted as though she were weighing her options where he was concerned and he pondered what else she might have in store for him.

"Very well, Lord Rowley. Perhaps you're not the man I thought you to be," Mrs. Dove-Lyon said quietly.

"Are you insulting me?" he asked thinking he must have heard her wrong.

"I would never voice such a thought aloud," she said repeating his own words. "But the lady I was thinking would make a perfect wife for you needs a special gentleman. One who is caring enough to see past the fact that she has no title."

Asher sat back in his own chair feeling as though the noose that felt like it was tightening around his neck when he entered the room now had loosened. "I'm certain the lady is lovely. However, I'm not interested."

"A pity…" Another light laugh came through the veil. "You men never are ready for what I propose. Or at least, you think you aren't. Regardless, I will mull over your situation further, Lord Rowley. Please continue to enjoy my tables this evening." She made a wave of her hand toward the door.

Asher stood and gave a short bow knowing his interview with the Widow of Whitehall was over. As he entered back into the gambling room, his eyes traveled up to the women's gallery and he saw the lady he had met near the stairs. He could only wonder what he had possibly turned down with Mrs. Dove-Lyon. Perhaps if that woman had been the widow's choice for him…but no, the chances of her matching Asher with his mysterious lady from above were hardly in his favor.