Page 25 of Pretending to Love a Lyon (The Lyon’s Den Connected World)

“Y ou said your brother went north to manage his estate in Stirling, yes?”

Amelia schooled her features into a mask of indifference. “Yes.”

“Get on with it,” Graham ordered.

Mr. Chase dropped his friendly facade. “I have made various inquiries and it seems your brother never hired any horses or carriage along the Great North Road. Does this concern you?”

Amelia couldn’t regulate her breathing, if she were breathing at all. They hadn’t discussed the particulars of how he would have made the journey. Normally, he’d take his own horse and change horses along the journey or hire a carriage depending on the weather. But Mr. Blakewood had put Sam’s usual horse down out of mercy and the remains had been dealt with by the head stableman. Amelia didn’t know much more beyond that. She thought quickly.

“My brother sent a message,” Amelia blurted. “He arrived safely.”

“Why would you inquire in the first place?” Graham asked, pulling Mr. Chase’s attention off her. “What business of it is yours?”

“It isn’t my business. I work on Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s behalf. She wishes to know. May I see the letter?”

“No.” Amelia said firmly. Why was Mr. Chase so invested in her brother’s whereabouts? What did he want with him?

“For what purpose is she interested?” Graham pressed. “I know Alston has no outstanding debts with the Den.”

“Indeed, he always wins,” Mr. Chase said.

“Are you implying he cheats?” Amelia asked with outrage on her brother’s behalf.

“No, not at all. I’ve watched him play. He is highly skilled.”

“Then what does she want—?” Graham paused and swallowed, a hint of realization washing over his features.

Amelia looked between them. “What? What is it?”

“He would have told me if he had agreed to a match,” Graham said.

“He hasn’t agreed yet.” Mr. Chase replied. “But Mrs. Dove-Lyon worries about his absence and its impact on her plans.”

“Are you discussing marriage?” Amelia asked.

“Mrs. Dove-Lyon loves to play matchmaker, you see,” Mr. Chase answered.

“He is only two and twenty,” Amelia said in shock. “He won’t marry anytime soon.”

Mr. Chase shrugged. “I’m only here for answers, my lady. Truthful answers.”

Amelia frowned but didn’t look to Graham. She didn’t want anything other than disdain to show on her face.

“He uses an alias when he travels alone,” Graham said. “It prevents bad characters from making him a target for robbery. Either way, we know he safely made it to his estate and that is all you need to know. Alston will handle whatever business he has with the Widow once he returns, until then, do not approach Lady Amelia again.”

Mr. Chase glanced between the two of them as he stroked his chin. “Very well, it seems my concerns were unfounded. My apologies,” he said this to Amelia, “if I frightened you.”

“Accepted. But I’m not concerned. If something horrible had happened to my twin, I think I would know. He’s fine.”

Mr. Chase studied her with a pinched brow. “What an intriguing concept. I will take my leave now.”

“The footman will see you out.”

Mr. Chase stood, as did Amelia and Graham.

“I hope your brother returns soon. It would be unfortunate for him to miss out on a chance at a fated union.”

“What has fate to do with arranged marriages?” Graham asked as he herded Mr. Chase toward the door.

“You don’t believe in fate?” Mr. Chase chided. “But consider the two of you. Always at odds until something brought you together. Isn’t that correct?” He smiled slyly. “Perhaps it is my heritage, but that sounds like fate.”

Amelia watched in confused silence as Mr. Chase departed, with Graham standing at the entry until the front door was shut and locked. Now they were alone, and there were too many things to say that she didn’t want to say.

Instead, she marched past him, intent on checking on her brother. He walked behind her, seemingly aware she didn’t want to talk, even though she still expected a reprimand for allowing Mr. Chase in the house.

Opening the door, she couldn’t believe her eyes. Sam was awake and eating soup from a bowl on his chest with the help of Petrov.

Amelia covered her mouth to stifle a cry of joy. Sam raised his eyebrow at her.

Graham stood behind her. He put a hand on her lower back and whispered, “My God.”

They both rushed forward but slowed midway, as if any disturbance might shatter the illusion before them. Petrov had tears in his eyes.

“All of you need to calm down,” Sam said. His voice dripped with exhaustion. “What has it been—a day or two that I’ve been asleep?”

“Sam—” Her throat closed, and she looked to Graham to answer his questions.

“You don’t remember?” Graham asked.

Sam snorted and winced. “My damn ribs. I remember the fall and Dr. Bradley wanting you both to prepare for the worst.”