The Enchanted Cave: The Mad Clan, #1

By Sue London

With his four friends under the spell of the Irish 'sisters' at The Enchanted Cave, it falls to Galen Mornay to save the poor idiots. Although ostensibly lady boxers, he knows the sisters have a more prurient background. Galen dangles the opportunity to become his mistress and the sisters predictably turn their attentions to him. All except the beautiful Maeve O'Malley, who insists she will be no man's play thing. Can Galen save his friend Finn before the fool offers to marry her? Or will Maeve prove to be too much for Galen himself?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Graythorn Publishing
• Release date: Jun 1, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393105848

Book preview

Chapter One

London, 1811

If there was one thing Baron Galen Mornay prided himself on, it was not inserting himself in the affairs of his friends. If they chose to be idiots, which they often did, then it was no business of his. Unless, of course, one of them managed to do great harm to himself, in which case Galen always came to their rescue. It was, considering his dour demeanor, disinclination for frivolity, and general roughness, probably the only reason he had any friends whatsoever. He often did such rescues without his friends having any idea where he had gained the information that they needed help, be it bailing them out, sending them funds, or simply arriving with a fine bottle, sympathetic ear, and characteristic practical advice. Because of his mysterious knowledge, they had taken to teasing him that the fairies whispered in his ears at night. Well, if Cyprians were fairies, then that was precisely the truth. He had a way with the ladybirds, and they seemed more than happy to keep him informed about the goings on of his wayward cadre.

The friends had all met in school, of course. Collectively, they had been known as the Mad Clan, and they had been a source of trouble since they were in short pants. Finn, their undoubted leader, had the sort of joie de vive and golden looks that made you think God Himself had touched the boy on the brow to give him all the blessings of this life. In short, precisely the sort of man that Galen would hate if he didn't love Finn so much. If Finn were all that was light and hopeful in this world, Galen was all that was dark and sour. But like the sun and moon they seemed destined forever to circle life together in an odd but predictable rhythm. Their other friends were the foul-mouthed but always entertaining Conan, poetic and lively Oscar, and quiet, loyal Bran.

Now, however, it seemed the four fools had taken up with some women at the Enchanted Cave, the latest establishment catering to the craven interest in lady boxing. Galen never had a taste for violence in general, much less the idea women going at fisticuffs. What was the point in having them mar their sweet little faces? A man might have need to know how to fight, but never a lady. It was in no way a sport, and was therefore a ludicrous display. Be that as it may, on this fine summer evening he strolled into the den his friends had been frequenting to find out precisely what they were about. The front room was better appointed than he expected, if rife with the typical false richness of whores. One of the ladybirds strolled over to him, intrigued, no doubt, by this new and apparently rich mark. He smiled at her, even though her flame colored hair and rouged cheeks weren’t to his taste.

I’ve heard that the Irish Sisters are fighting tonight, he said companionably, winking at her for good measure.

Have you heard that, now? she asked in a teasing tone, her Irish lilt unmistakable. He wouldn’t bet so much as a quid on the accent being authentic. If there was one thing that women in her profession excelled at, it was reinventing themselves to take advantage of a man’s interests. But there was nothing wrong with a little reinvention from time to time.

I have heard it. What else can you tell me?

Oh, lovey, I have all sorts of things to tell you. She smiled at him seductively.

***

Maeve O'Malley knew two things in this life. First, there was very little worth crying over. Second, the only thing that did matter were the people who cared enough about you that they risked for you, and you risked for them. That second was why she was looking out for her ‘sisters’ here at the Enchanted Cave. She might be the youngest, but she also knew she was the strongest. Not only in body, but in spirit. It was a blessed thing, this strength, because right this moment Bridget’s caterwauling was testing the very limits of it.

There, there, Maeve said soothingly, patting her friend on the shoulder. He didn’t mean a bit of it.

Some of the girls were fortunate enough to have the sort of coloring to make their crying a pretty thing, but Bridget was much like Maeve herself. Pale enough that even a few minutes led to red eyes and splotchy skin. He s-said I was u-ugly.

He’s just trying to get your goat, you ninny. If he thought such a thing he wouldn’t have been carrying on with you these last few weeks, now would he? Maeve tried not to be judgmental about the girls who chose to fatten their pockets even more by plying the world’s oldest trade. As a good girl she sent up extra prayers for them, because the Lord had to love everyone, even those with the weakest of moral fortitude. And truly, she must be grateful to them. Her youth and plucky resolve made them coddle her like the little sister they never had, and that meant they protected her from men she wished to avoid. Which meant, well, all of them. And she knew that if it weren’t for her sisters, and the chance to fight in the ring, Maeve might have been reduced to selling her body for food. She’d like to think she would rather starve, but she had seen starvation. It wasn’t something that one wanted to face if there were an alternative. Any alternative. Tonight she would say an extra prayer over her rosary thanking the Good Lord and the Virgin Mary that she had never been forced to make such a choice.

Bridget’s sniffs of misery brought Maeve’s attention back to the present. It wouldn’t do to tell the woman that Conan Morland was a good for nothing lordling who would never do right by her anyway. Maeve had spent enough time here to see that any such advice only led to the ladybird defending her current beau. Not that any of their admirers deserved one scrap of sympathy, much less defense. Men who would dally among those they saw inferior to themselves, who would take advantage of a woman's precarious fortunes, would never have any sympathy from Maeve O'Malley. Not an ounce of it.

Chapter Two

His curvaceous escort took Galen to an open courtyard where gentlemen and ladybirds strolled and lounged. The center of the space was being prepared for the evening's entertainment and Galen surveyed the scene, quickly finding what he sought. With the red-haired flirt on his arm, he ambled over to where three gentlemen had secured plum seating in the corner before the event began. Oscar was the first to spot him and poked Conan, who was lounging by himself. The dark scoundrel was glowering, but his countenance lightened a bit upon seeing Galen.

Where have you been keeping yourself, you whoreson?

Typical Conan. For him that was tantamount to admitting he missed you. Hiding from your ugly face, obviously, Galen responded dryly.

You two need to stop sending each other love letters, Oscar quipped. Bran simply stood to shake Galen's hand.

There was a delightful familiarity in spending time with men one knew so well. Galen couldn't predict precisely what they would do or say, but he knew what pattern the interaction would follow. The five friends had known each other so long that they were like a Swiss watch piece.

Where's Finn? he asked.

Conan tossed his head to indicate the upper floor of the house. Mooning over that O'Malley girl, no doubt. His gaze settled on the girl still draped on Galen's arm. He'd be better off availing himself of a more accommodating gel.

Where is your accommodating gel? Galen asked.

While Conan curled his lip, Oscar answered for him. Not being so accommodating.

Finally got a good look at you, did she?

Conan scowled. A fine comment from a man who looks like his face saw the backside of a boot.

"Or perhaps his face looks more like the backside of a boot," Oscar suggested helpfully.

Galen laughed and looked at the ladybird on his arm. Could you cheer my sourpuss of a friend for a bit? Certainly your charms could make him see the world in a more charitable way.

As it was hardly trading down to accompany his handsome, richly dressed friend, she sauntered over to curl herself into Conan's lap. Seeing that his friends were well entertained as the courtyard began filling with even more people, Galen nodded to them and set out to find Finn.

***

Maeve slipped out to let Bridget pull herself together before her turn in the ring, and ran straight into the last person she wanted to see. The rich, overconfident, golden-haired Lord Cole leaned a shoulder on the wall and gave her that smile that most probably found charming, but it made her grate her teeth. He was tall, easily half a head over her own statuesque height.

"I was afraid