Page 13 of Read To Me, Lyon

Yet, what she and her son didn’t know was that Kitty had a secret that would be far more scandalous than being broke. Everly squeezed his mother’s hand as if trying to ease her nerves. It endeared him to Kitty more. She’d wondered if how personable he’d been in the bookshop had been an anomaly, but she didn’t believe so.

“My mother is upset that I’ve found myself in this situation, but now that I know it is you, I’m not so worried.”

“I think you two will make a perfect match,” Benton said, still smiling.

Her gaze yanked to her family friend. Was he mad? Still, she only nodded. A staff member entered, carrying champagne glasses. Once everyone held a glass, Lady Everly raised hers. “Shall we toast to the future Marchioness of Everly?”

They all held up their glasses. Kitty couldn’t believe she was marrying the Marquess of Everly, and as much as she liked him, she wasn’t sure it was the right move. What would he think when he discovered her secrets? She and Benton needed to speak with Mrs. Dove-Lyon. Her gaze flicked to his handsome face, wishing that he weren’t so prestigious or she wasn’t hiding a massive scandal.

Oliver sat in the dining room of the Mayfair Everly Townhouse with his mother and Julia. His mother beamed. “I like her.”

He more than liked her, and he was too embarrassed to mention that he’d thought of her when writing his summary. Julia shook her head. “I would have never guessed a bookshop and printing press did so well. I believe that while they have books for everyone, they cater to women.”

“Have you been in there?” his mother asked Julia.

She shook her head. “No, I’m a creature of habit and always go to the bookshop Father took us to that is closer.”

“I’ve been at the shop. I actually spoke with Miss Larson before this all happened and enjoyed our conversation,” Oliver said.

“Perhaps it was meant to be,” his mother said, her eyes going dreamy.

Oliver had been thrilled to discover Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s match was Miss Larson. He barely knew her, but something about Kitty Larson had lingered with him. He liked her deep thoughts on a book that most read only for the adventure. Yet, she’d seemed shocked and hesitant when he walked into her drawing room. Her surprise was understandable, but he wanted to learn why she appeared so unsure.

He shook his head; he was a fool to assume all people desired to marry a marquess. She was a businesswoman. Oliver imagined she had her own dreams and aspirations, especially related to her bookshop and printing press.

“Why are you shaking your head?” Julia asked, frowning at him.

“I hope I’m what she wants.”

His mother frowned. “How could she not want you? You are kind, handsome, and intelligent.”

Oliver laughed. “You are my mother. Miss Larson and I are two strangers who will be married in two weeks. I wondered what made her procure Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s services.”

“Perhaps she wanted to marry a lord so her sisters might marry well?” Julia suggested.

He wasn’t so sure. Kitty Larson seemed comfortable not mingling among the lords and ladies of the ton. Oliver would bet money she’d expected a successful businessman to enter her townhouse, not some broke lord with a prestigious family name.

“I don’t think so.”

“You will win her heart. I know it,” his mother said.

Oliver found himself wanting to. Maybe he should ignore his doubts for now and just focus on his and Kitty’s future. Yes, perhaps that was what he would do. He planned to meet with her again the day after tomorrow.

“I received a note from Winthrop. He’s returned from the Continent,” he explained.

His sister’s eyes went wide. “Peter is back.”

He smiled at her. Julia had carried a tendre for the viscount since they were children. He raised a brow at her, and she flushed. “I hope he is well.”

“Perhaps he is looking for a bride now that he is home,” his mother suggested.

Julia groaned and slunk down in her seat. “I have no desire to be matched with Peter. He is so boringly proper.”

Oliver didn’t believe her but kindly changed the subject. “Why don’t you tell us about the opera you attended yesterday with your friends?”

His sister shot him a grateful look and launched into a dramatic retelling of her previous evening.

Later that night, Oliver sat with Winthrop at the Lyon’s Den. They were in one of the lounge areas, enjoying brandy. His friend looked tired, with a scar running from his temple to his jaw. They’d both seen battle, but Winthrop had been in several more skirmishes than he and was involved in the actual fighting at Waterloo.