Page 38 of Pretending to Love a Lyon (The Lyon’s Den Connected World)

S am blinked his sleepy eyes and smiled at her. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. I hope it isn’t me.”

Amelia gave him a watery smile as she took his hand. “Don’t say such things. And you must listen. Aunt Ruth and Nelson are here. I can’t keep our secret any longer. I told them you returned last night and are injured from falling off a horse.”

He sighed. “It couldn’t last forever, could it? Help me sit up.”

Petrov hurried over, taking Sam’s arm to pull him up gently, and Amelia stuffed pillows behind him. Petrov combed through his hair and straightened the linens. Every second loomed over them until the knock came, and Graham opened the door, preceding Aunt Ruth and Nelson.

Aunt Ruth paused as she gawked at Sam, her hand shaking as she covered her mouth.

“Bloody hell, Alston,” Nelson blurted.

“You look well, aunt and cousin. Why are you here at such a dreadful hour?”

They shuffled closer, eyes wide and faces pale.

“Goodness, fetch a doctor!” Aunt Ruth cried.

Sam sighed wearily. “I’ve seen the doctor. I’m recovering nicely and only need to rest a few more days. Mr. Crest, did I send for you?”

“No, my lord. I received a summons from Mr. Blakewood on your behalf.” He backed away and into the hall.

“You look like death,” Nelson warbled. “Like father did when I saw him before the funeral.”

“Bite your tongue, Nelson,” Amelia spat.

“Pale as a sheet,” Aunt Ruth whispered. “We must prepare.”

“For what?” Sam asked, increasingly annoyed.

“Dear, how long have you been like this?”

Sam shrugged. “I was returning home yesterday on horseback, but then I took a tumble. I hired a carriage for the remainder and arrived after midnight.” He winced, and Amelia barely noticed it. Hopefully, Aunt Ruth and Nelson didn’t see it at all.

“We came to see to your sister’s welfare,” Nelson said, his voice regaining some of its belligerence. “A body was discovered by the river last evening. He carried one of your handkerchiefs with the crest. I was summoned to identify the person, and he looked like you. Mr. Crest can confirm—I sent for him to identify you as well.” He shook his head. “We came to tell Amelia the terrible news before she read about it in the papers.”

“Well clearly, I am not dead. I’d like to continue resting now. You may take your leave. You are no doubt anxious to inform the relevant constables of your dreadful mistake.”

Aunt Ruth stepped forward, putting a hand on the end of the bed. “My lord, you look quite unwell, frighteningly so. I must insist that neither of you is fit to make decisions here when in this state of distress. Truly, without your presence Amelia has become a hellion.”

“I beg your pardon,” Graham broke in. “Lord Alston told you to leave. And you would do well to not insult my betrothed again.”

Nelson backed up a step, but Aunt Ruth whirled on him. “My niece may be of age to marry whomever she chooses, but there is something nefarious going on here. You’re not family—”

“He’s more family than you,” Sam spat. “You’ve been asked, now I am ordering you to leave. Get out. I’ll have none of your underhanded assistance. Amelia and I know why you’re here and what you want, and it’s not out of care or concern for our wellbeing. Amelia—wait, Blakewood, did you say betrothed?”

Amelia’s knees buckled. She caught herself and sat clumsily. He had. Graham had revealed their engagement to Sam.

Graham swallowed, taking in the room and all who were present. “I did. Do you not remember? We told you the morning you left. Though we tried to keep it private from wider society, it did slip out.”

Sam frowned and Amelia touched his hand. “Graham and I are engaged. It was your idea, after all.”

He held her gaze. “Forgive me. It slipped my mind for a moment.”

Amelia nodded, her hand tightening around his in apology.

“I’ve heard enough of this nonsense,” Aunt Ruth said. “I will be returning with a proper doctor. Dear nephew, you are far more ill than you would have us believe. I raised you like my own, and I know when the two of you are being dishonest.”

Amelia got to her feet and stood before her aunt. “Do not, for one second, think that we believe you care for us and this family. You did not raise us, you are not our mother. What you did was spend years of my childhood trying to coerce me into marrying your son. You’re nothing but a greedy witch, and you would do anything to get what you want!”

In a blink, her aunt slapped her across the face. The slap stung, but Amelia was more surprised than hurt. She stared at her aunt, fury building, fists clenching as the urge to strike the woman back surged, but the immediate uproar prevented any action from her. Sam was yelling threats, and Graham charged in like bull. Even Nelson shouted in shock at his mother. He took his mother by the shoulders and dragged her toward the door.

“We’ll return with a doctor,” Nelson warned. “I don’t believe a bruised rib is the cause of your sickness.”

“Get out!” Sam bellowed. His voice hitched at the end, and Amelia turned to him. His face rapidly drained of color, and he fell back on the bed.

“Sam!” Amelia screamed. She and Graham were at his side at once. Her brother’s gaze flicked back and forth between them, but he did not speak.

“Fetch Dr. Bradley,” Graham said to Petrov.

Petrov was at the door, trying to herd Aunt Ruth and Nelson out, but they stood there watching Sam with rapt attention.

“Sam, just rest now. It’s all right,” Amelia cried, sobs slicing at her throat. His hand was cold in hers, and Amelia just knew his life was draining from him, right before her eyes. “Sam, please. Stay with me.”

“Just as I suspected, mother,” Nelson said. “There is much more to his illness than a fall. We’ll return once he has passed.”

Amelia glared at them with the promise of murder, and they faded into the hall. “Do something!” she screamed, but not to anyone specifically. She just needed someone—anyone—to save her brother.

Graham tore down the coverlet and lifted Sam’s shirt. He pressed down on Sam’s side.

“What are you doing?” Amelia cried.

“When a wound is bleeding you apply pressure. I don’t know what else to do,” his voice broke. “His wound is inside. I don’t know what to do.”

He looked at her, haunted, and every bit as helpless as she was. But even if the worst happened and all her fears came true, she would never be more grateful for Graham than she was right now. He’d stay with her. Through everything. He’d fight the whole world to protect the people he loved. To keep them safe, he’d stand as immovable as a mountain. He was the greatest man she knew and the only one who loved Sam as much as she did.

But it was more than that now. He was the only one who would love her as much as Sam did. She knew it. He’d give everything of himself to the woman he loved, and she wanted to be that woman. Amelia wanted to be the one to give him the fierce love he deserved, to be worthy of that honor.

An invisible hand squeezed her throat, and she swallowed hard. “Where is Dr. Bradley?” She touched her brother’s cheek. His eyes were closed and his breathing was too fast, but he was still here. Maybe this wasn’t the end, just a step back. He’d sleep and then he’d be well again. Tears welled over her eyes, and she touched her forehead to her brother’s.

“I will still fight Death for you,” Amelia swore. “I’m not giving up. We beat him once. We can do it again. Fight with me, Sam. Fight hard. I want you there when we marry. I want you to walk me down the aisle and entrust my wellbeing to Graham. Do you hear me, Sam?”

Dr. Bradley entered. He must have already been in the house for his regular visit to have arrived so quickly. “What happened?”

Amelia wiped away her tears. “He was well, talking, eating, but then there was an argument with family, and he collapsed.” As Dr. Bradley started to examine him, Amelia stepped back.

“What are you doing?” he said to Graham.

“Instinct tells me to push on the spot that is bleeding. I don’t know why.”

Dr. Bradley frowned at him. “Curious.”

“What do we do?” Amelia asked.

He sighed. “My lady... I fear there is nothing we can do. I warned you this was always a possibility.”

Amelia fell to her knees. Graham wanted to come to her—she could see it in his eyes—but Amelia shook her head. “Don’t stop. You may be the only thing keeping him alive.”

“Mr. Blakewood, I’ve been communicating with a colleague about his lordship. While theories exist, not much has been done in practice regarding surgical intervention for bleeding. To be frank, cadavers don’t bleed. However, two years ago, an American doctor successfully removed a tumor from a woman and she survived. Since then, there has been increasing interest, and he’s been traveling to further the knowledge.”

“What does that have to do with Alston?” Graham asked.

“Well, to remove the object, blood vessels would have to be ligated or the patient would exsanguinate.”

“What does that mean?” Amelia cried.

“Bleed to death,” Graham said. “What’s this surgeon’s name?”

“His name is Sloan, but—”

“Bring him here!” Amelia got to her feet.

“My dear, he cannot save your brother.”

“You just said he could do it. He fixed that woman. Stopped her from bleeding to death, yes?”

He nodded, wiping sweat from his brow. “Yes, but this is a very different surgical situation. I don’t know how I could convince him to come.”

“But he is in London?”

“Yes.”

“Bring him here.”

“You can’t order him to perform a reckless procedure. Even if he would agree to do it, your brother would almost certainly die before we could reach the surgery amphitheater.”

“Where can I find this man?” Amelia asked impatiently.

Dr. Bradley shook his head belligerently. “I’m sorry.”

Amelia warned. “You will be if you don’t answer the question.”

“He’s staying with Dr. Smithson’s family in Penny Square. But I don’t know what you think you can do, my lady.”

“I know someone who is skilled at convincing men to do just about anything.” Amelia looked to Graham. “You stay. Keep him alive. I’ll be back.”

“Amelia, what are you thinking?” Graham asked.

“I’m going to make a deal with the Widow. She’ll make him do it, and Mr. Chase will collect him.”

Graham nodded. Surprise stunned her, but she turned away and ran down the hall. Outside, the street was busy with the usual comings and goings of the morning. Amelia peered around. She knew he’d be out here. Lurking.

“Where are you?” she called. “Come out, Mr. Chase!”

In her periphery, he stepped around the corner, strolling toward her as he lit a cigar.

“You summoned me?”

Amelia wasted no time with banter. “My brother is upstairs dying. He’s bleeding inside his body, and it won’t stop. There is an American doctor staying at the Smithson residence in Penny Square. Convince Mrs. Bessie Dove-Lyon to make him fix my brother.”

Mr. Chased raised his eyebrow. “What makes you think she will do your bidding?”

Amelia swallowed. She only had one card to play. Sam would not like it. He might even hate her for it for the rest of his life, but as long as he was alive, she didn’t care.

“She wants him to marry a woman of her choosing. I will guarantee it as long as he survives.”

Mr. Chase narrowed his eyes at her. “You aren’t in a position to do that.”

“I’m his twin. I can make him. Just save him, please.” Her throat tightened. “I don’t know what else to offer.”

He tilted his head to one side as he studied her. “ If your offer is accepted, where am I to deliver this sawbones?”

“Here. He must also bring everything he needs to perform the surgery here. I know it’s risky.”

Mr. Chase chuckled. “It’s damn pointless, no doubt.”

“I don’t care what the odds are. I will not stand by and watch him die. I must do something. Anything.”

He sighed. “Very well. Send word if . . .”

She nodded. “He won’t. We’ll be waiting.”

“Does Death do your bidding?”

“He has so far.”