She didn’t speak as they climbed into the carriage. The coachman started them moving, but she just stared at her hands. She wore fine kid gloves borrowed from Diana. Would she one day have fine things like this of her own? Provided by a wealthy, titled husband? She had good things, of course. Her family wasn’t rich, but they’d always had coal in the winter and sturdy gloves for her hands. But now she might have fine gloves and gowns with lace made in France.
The idea made her head swim.
“I’ll take her to see her father,” Elliott said to Diana. “But she can’t be seen like this.”
“No, of course not. I have a dark cloak at home. I’ll bring it out to you.”
“Thank you.”
Diana leaned close and squeezed Amber’s fingers. “You look like I did before my wedding. But it won’t be like that for you,” she said. “You get to pick your husband, and I can help,” she said. “I know a little of who might make a good husband and who would not.”
So did Amber. She saw the ones for the not column every night. In fact, that was the first requirement of any possible husband, that he not frequent the Lyon’s Den. “I don’t understand,” she finally said. “We don’t have twenty thousand pounds.” Why would her father promise something they didn’t have?
“Actually,” Lord Byrn said gently, “you do. It was my suggestion. You have that much in gemstones and future profits from the store. Many gentlemen will marry a woman in the trades for just that kind of future income. The connection is usually kept quiet, but it is not uncommon.”
It was his suggestion. How the idea hurt. She couldn’t even fully say why, but the thought of him suggesting ways to make her more auctionable was a betrayal that burned deep in her heart.
“My grandparents married for love. They were both poor, but he was apprenticed to a jeweler, and she could cook. They had dreams together and made them come true. He tells me the stories often.”
Diana patted her hand. “And now you will have a marriage based on something much more substantial than dreams.”
She had no response to that, so she kept her head bowed, her fingers clasped, and her mouth pressed tightly shut. Her mind was spinning, and her emotions were even worse. She remained like that as they stopped at Diana’s home. His sister left, only to return with a cloak and to press a kiss to Amber’s cold cheek.
“I can’t go with you to the Den. It would be disastrous if anyone saw me, but Elliott will keep you safe.”
Amber looked up in confusion. “There is no one there who will hurt me.”
“Of course not,” Elliott said as he wrapped the dark fabric around her. “But this is about your reputation. Leave the hood over your head so no one will recognize you.”
No one would recognize her at her own home? Because she had a cloak with a hood on? She knew he meant it the other way. None of the fashionable people at the Lyon’s Den would see her, but she couldn’t help but hear it the other way. If she married someone outside her set, someone titled and respectable, would she then forever have to visit her family in secret? With her head and face covered so no one would know?
“I am being ridiculous,” she said, her voice disgustingly weak. “Every girl wants this. I want this.” So, why was she rushing home to plead with her father to take it all back? “I am the luckiest girl alive.”
He didn’t argue, but he also didn’t agree. Instead, he pulled her hand into his. They sat together like that, hand in hand, as the carriage drove through the London streets. Bit by bit, the neighborhood grew darker and more dangerous. The smell of sewage grew stronger, and she knew the rookeries were close.
This was not something she would miss. She was accustomed to the danger, only going out during the day and in clothing that attracted no attention. And even then, she was often accompanied by one of the Wolf Pack.
If she were to ride in a fine carriage, though, would she be in more danger or less? Would she need to hire footmen who could protect her, or would her family have to come see her in a different part of town?
Thank heavens, they arrived quickly at the Lyon’s Den because she kept thinking of more questions, more problems, and more details that had never occurred in her daydreams. There, everything was perfectly easy, but suddenly the details were too much to bear. As soon as the horses stopped, she pushed open the door.
“Amber!” Elliott called, but she was too quick, and she knew this place well. She heard him following her. His heavy tread was close behind as she dashed around the corner of the building to the small door in the back of the shop.
It was locked. It was after dark. So, she banged on it, crying out as she hammered on the door.
“Papa! Open up! Papa!”
No one answered, and her cries grew more frantic until she was sobbing at the door. Lord Byrn joined her and gently pulled her fists from the door. “Think Amber. Where would your father usually be right now?”
“In the back, cutting stones!”
“But then who would be with your grandfather?”
“I would.” Except she had been at Almack’s. She took a breath and tried to think. “They’re both upstairs,” she said quietly. She turned and headed for the ladies’ entrance, only to realize that Lord Byrn would not be able to join her that way. It was not a problem. After all, she’d spent nearly her entire life going in and out of the Den without his company. But at this moment, he was the only touchstone she had in a world gone crazy. She didn’t want to leave his side.
“We can go in the main entrance,” she said softly. “Women sometimes enter that way.”
He didn’t question her. He simply extended his forearm to her. She didn’t want to take it. She wanted to hold his hand like they had in the carriage, but this was better than nothing. She would hold onto his arm and feel his solid presence that way. She set her palm to his arm, and he covered it with his free hand while tucking her close to his side.
“I do not understand what you are feeling right now, but I will not leave your side until you are comfortable. Agreed?”
“Yes,” she exhaled, relief in the word. “Thank you.”
They made it inside with little issue. Lord Byrn was welcome here, as well as any of his companions, even if she be female and entering through the wrong door. Amber ran up the steps as soon as they made it inside and headed straight to the cage. But as soon as she got to the main floor, the noise and the smell assaulted her. Smoke, stale spirits, and sweat made for a nauseating atmosphere. She coughed just as a burst of raucous laughter filled the room. This was so familiar to her, like a second skin, and yet it didn’t seem to fit her now. Compared to the pastel colors and sedate dancing of Almack’s, this was a decidedly male environment, and not a very nice one.
Nevertheless, she rushed forward, going straight to the cage door. “Papa!” she whispered through the grate. “Papa, open up. It’s me.”
The door immediately opened, but not by her father. It was Lina, the Abacas Woman. “Thisbe!” she cried. “What are you doing here?”
Thisbe. The name she used at the den, jolting her yet again. She’d gotten used to being called Amber and Miss Gohar. “Where is my father?”
“He’s gone to get some tea for your grandfather. Come in, come in.”