Page 13 of The Lyon’s Last Gamble (The Lyon’s Den Connected World #80)

C hristopher watched Whitney rush from the room as if she had the devil himself chasing her heels. What possibly could be her issue? He’d obviously upset her, but he didn’t ken how.

He waited but a moment before he stood and walked into the hallway. Looking in both directions, there was no sign of the lass. A servant appeared, her arms stacked high with linens.

“Do ye ken where Miss Watkins has gone?” He asked.

“I believe she is outside, my lord.”

He nodded. “Thank ye.” He exited the front door, the same one he’d entered and paused to look around. She wasn’t here so he made his way around the side of the estate. Surely, she wouldn’t have run to the front. She would be in the back.

Rounding the corner to the back of the house, he spotted Whitney sitting on a stone bench near some potted flowers that matched the same ones that were on the front steps.

He took a deep breath. Thinking about how to approach her. Clearly whatever he had said regarding the Lyon’s Den had upset her, though he didn’t ken why.

The gravel walkway crunched under his boots as he approached the lass. “May I join ye?” He asked, pointing to the empty space on the bench beside her.

She shrugged but scooted over to the very edge of the seat.

He sat, but remained quiet for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. “I am no’ sure if ye’re aware, but I wasna familiar with the Lyon’s Den before I stepped foot into the building.” He chuckled. “I had e’en passed by it numerous times and hadna the faintest idea of the secrets held inside.”

“But you were invited to participate.”

He nodded. “I was. ’Twas all a mystery to me.”

“Whatever do you mean?”

He picked at a piece of lint on his trews. “I received an invitation. It promised grand winnings. Something that I could really use, so I couldna turn down the opportunity.”

“You thought you would be winning a monetary prize.”

He dipped his head and smiled, trying to put her at ease, unsure of why he cared so much for someone he’d just met—future bride-to-be or not. “Aye. In the end it wasna, but I am a man of my word. I signed a contract and will follow-through with that.”

She blew out a breath, her hands grasping the edges of the seat. “I also had to sign a contract stating that whoever won the game, well, you know. That we would marry.”

“I apologize if I am a disappointment. But do believe me when I say I will do all in my power to make ye happy.”

She laughed, but it held a somber undertone. “It is not that. I was watching the game from above. Mrs. Dove-Lyon has an observation room up there. When I saw you and the other man that would be playing, I was immediately rooting for you,” she confessed shyly.

He couldn’t stop the smile that broke across his face. “Do ye ken of Jensen as well?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head, her brown waves swaying in the air. “I didn’t know either of you. Still don’t really. But I had seen you before.”

This was an interesting development. “Ye had? When?” Surely, he would remember seeing her previously.

“It was just for a brief moment. My mother and I were at the modiste shop and you had happened to pause in front of the window I was looking out of. I’m sure you don’t remember. It was just a brief glance.

He kenned exactly the moment she was referring to and now he realized those beautiful blue eyes he’d seen that day belonged to the lass sitting beside him. The window had reflected the street back to him, so he couldn’t see the face they belonged to, but he remembered.

“I actually do. But I could only see your eyes through the window. But they were memorable indeed.”

Her cheeks flushed in the most becoming way, but she didn’t say anything.

“So, since we are to be married, I think it only makes sense that we learn about each other. Why do ye no’ have men knocking down your door on a daily basis to grovel for your hand?” She was a bonny lass he had to admit. From a respected family. Well mannered. He couldn’t see any reason why she hadn’t been whisked away yet.

“I fear to say,” she said quietly, her teeth worrying her bottom lip.

“Whitney, may I call ye Whitney?”

She gave a small nod.

“We both found ourselves there, contract in hand, for a reason. I am no’ innocent. I would be willing to bet,” he grimaced at his poor choice of words, “that whate’er ye have done, I have done worse.”

Her eyes slammed into his, the blue deep as the sea. “I cannot believe that.”

“Nay?” He huffed. “Did ye lose your family’s estate? Their livelihood? The very thing that keeps coin in their pockets?” He pushed his hands through his hair. So much for easing into how much of a mess he was. But she was being so hard on herself. And why? He had betrayed his family in every way possible. And when it came time to face the consequences of his horrible actions, he ran. Ran from Millwool Castle. From Edinburgh. Hell, he’d run from Scotland altogether.

Like a coward.

No matter what she said, it surely wasn’t as bad as what he’d done.

“Unless ye have done all those things, which I find verra hard to believe, I dinna think ye should be fashing overmuch.”

“You did all those things?” She asked quietly.

“Aye. My brother was fortunate enough to barter back all I had lost, but it cost him dearly. That’s why I was taking a chance at the den. I was hoping for enough coin to pay my brother back.”

Her blue eyes rounded, understanding dawning. “You have a gambling problem?”

He pushed off the bench and paced the area in front of her, his hand cupping the back of his neck. “Had. ’Twas the reason I came to London, actually. I was looking for that big win.”

“Did you get it?”

Christopher barked out a laugh. “Nay. I most definitely didna. As a matter of fact, the night before I received the Lyon’s Den invitation, I had made the vow that I would no longer gamble. I was done. I would find an honest way to make the money to pay my brother back.”

“But yet, you accepted the invitation.”

He sighed. “I did. I fought a war within myself about it. Once I determined that it wasna a chance I could pass up, I told myself win or lose, it didna matter. ’Twould absolutely be my last gamble. But I also needed to win. When I said it didna matter if I won or lost, ’twas a lie. I needed the victory.”

“You got it. You came out victorious.”

“I did. Just no’ in the way I expected.”

“I am sorry.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Whate’er for?”

She smoothed her palms over the rose-colored material of her gown. “Because you expected to win a treasure, and instead you won a wife. One that you had no idea of going into the game. I apologize for that.”

In an instant, he was in front of her, dropping to his knees, so he could look her in the eyes. He wanted to clear the clouds from them and ease her guilt. Which was misplaced.

“Nay,” he took her hands in his. “My predicament is my own at no fault of ye. I will admit that I was a wee bit surprised when I learned what I had won. Most people when betting dinna expect to win a wife as the prize. It sounds wrong to my ears as I say it aloud.” He laughed, he couldn’t help it. “’Tis absurd if ye think about it, nay? Barbaric even.”

She studied his face, and her lips lifted into a smile and she giggled. “It is silly when you say it like that.”

“See? Dinna fash o’er it, lass. All will be well.” He pushed a loose tendril of hair away that had fallen across her forehead, rubbing the silky strands between his fingers, and fought the urge to lift it to his nose so he could inhale the lavender scent.

Standing, he held out his hand. “Come, let’s walk the grounds and ye can tell me about your home.” What he really wanted to say was to ask her why she was at the Lyon’s Den, but he thought there had been enough revelations made for the time being.

It was a sense of relief that she kenned of his past. Of course, she didn’t have the specifics of it all. But she had the general idea of why he was in London and how he found himself wrapped up in this game.

In due time, he hoped she would trust in him enough to tell him of her past. Truly, it could not be that bad. She was pleasant in all aspects. She was caring, polite. Along with the other attributes he’d noted before, he couldn’t think of a single reason as to why she and her family felt that such desperate actions needed to be taken.

Until then, he would offer her a strong shoulder of support.