Page 39 of To Steal a Lyon’s Heart (The Lyon’s Den Connected World #85)

T he next morning, Mr. Chase delivered the summons himself just after breakfast.

The weather was abysmal, which Sam hadn’t minded.

Nothing so minor could ruin his mood after last night.

He’d stared at Daisy over the breakfast table, unheeded by Blakewood and Amelia who were still abed.

Sam didn’t want to guess why, but he did appreciate the fantasy of him and Daisy skipping breakfast quite frequently in the coming future.

That was the sort of husband and wife they would be.

Insatiable. He could barely stand the length of table and cloth that separated them now.

She could eat just as well from his lap while he nibbled on her ear.

But as soon as Chase entered the dining room—unannounced—as if he bloody lived there, Sam’s mood soured.

“Would you rather be in suspense? I thought you’d be happy to return to the Den and hear the verdict so soon.” His gaze wandered over Daisy as she took a bite of toast and Sam wanted to growl at him.

His . She was his .

“If you want to keep your eyeballs, take them off her,” he said.

Chase turned to him and grinned. “Jealous and possessive, are you?”

“I don’t need to be jealous, but possessive? Uncontrollably violent?” Sam shrugged. “Sure, why not.”

“Sam!” Daisy chided. “There is no need for violence.”

Sam folded his arms.

“Sometimes there is a need for violence,” Chase said. He glanced at his pocket watch.

“I suppose there is no need for Miss Smith—er, Miss Brandon—to come around?” Daisy asked.

“You told her?” Chase asked incredulously.

Sam scoffed. “Of course I told her.”

“Her identity and presence are secret. For her safety,” Chase explained.

Daisy nodded. “I understand. I hope she finds a husband soon so she can feel safe.”

Chase nodded sharply and then folded his arms, his face a stone facade of resolute something Sam couldn’t name.

But it was intense. He’d already suspected Chase was more than usually protective of the woman.

But was it more? A nurse would be one thing, but did her station as a gentlewoman put her out of his reach?

Sam knew nothing about him. He could be a bloody prince for all they knew.

But he suspected there was some military background.

He seemed like a battle-hardened soldier.

“I suppose I’ll have to stay here,” Daisy said.

“The Den is not a place for you,” Chase said.

Sam bristled. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

“And I,” Daisy said pointedly.

“Of course,” Sam said. “And you. But I do think it best you remain here. I don’t want Mrs. Dove-Lyon getting ideas about using you in one of her schemes.” He waited for Chase to defend the widow and imply she’d never use an innocent young lady for her own gain. But Chase remained quiet.

“I’ll meet you outside,” Sam said. Chase nodded to Daisy and quit the room. Sam wiped his face and stood. Daisy set her fork down, her face betraying her trepidation. Sam came to her side of the table and bent to trail his lips along her neck.

“I’ll return as soon as possible.”

“And what will I do?”

Everything his mind produced involved her waiting naked in bed for him, but he knew that was an unlikely fantasy. “Amelia will be up soon. She’ll keep you company.”

“Shouldn’t my brother go with you?”

Sam straightened. “I need to do this on my own.”

She turned and looked up at him. “I wasn’t implying you couldn’t.”

He stroked a hand over her hair. “I know. But I still needed to say it.”

He gathered his hat and coat and met Chase out front a few minutes later. The trip to the Den was short and quiet. Arriving there, Chase took Sam straight up to the widow’s private parlor and Sam entered behind him. Sam took the seat before Mrs. Dove-Lyon offered it, and Chase departed.

“Don’t waste time with pleasantries,” Sam said plainly as soon as Chase had shut the door.

She scoffed. “You’re impertinent.”

“I’m impatient.”

“Very well. I had the pleasure of coming across some valuable information last night that I found to be quite a happy accident and, wouldn’t you know, I’ve found a way for you to repay your debt in a way that would benefit us both.”

“Carry on.”

“You are familiar with the Earl of Claystone.”

Sam froze. Every muscle in his body locked with anger. Of course this would somehow involve Daisy.

“Obviously.”

“Lord Claystone and his like-minded acquaintances are forming a committee to impose regulations on establishments they deem immoral, like gaming clubs. He’s threatening my business, and I have no qualms about bringing him to his knees—discreetly, of course.

There is nothing I loathe more than a self-righteous hypocrite.

I want you to steal into their townhouse and take the countess’s diary. ”

“A fucking diary?” Sam barked.

She tsked at him. “Language, Lord Alston.”

“What’s in this diary? Secrets of the Crown?”

She snorted. “Wouldn’t that be amusing? But I won’t know exactly until I have it in my hands, but I’m given to understand its contents will be useful to me. You are not permitted to open it. And I shouldn’t have to say this, but don’t get caught.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Is that all?”

“Is that not enough?”

“It’s absurd is what it is.”

“Then be grateful that is all I’m asking. I’d expect you to take this more seriously. What happens to Claystone can and will affect Miss Blakewood.”

Sam was aware of what was at stake, but there had to be more than this. It couldn’t be this easy to appease her. “When?” he asked. He thought back to Daisy’s note from Lady Claystone. It couldn’t be a coincidence that Cliffton returned tomorrow, could it?

“I recommend tonight. You see, Lord Claystone is hosting a dinner party to gather more support for his cause. Yet he is deeply indebted. Miss Blakewood’s dowery is his only viable lifeline to keep up appearances.

If what I suspect is confirmed, not only will he not have Miss Blakewood’s dowery, but he will be socially ruined, and therefore, defeated in his campaign to destroy my lucrative business. ”

Sam cursed again. If Lord Claystone became involved in scandal while Daisy was still engaged to Cliffton, she’d be more than ruined. Her family would be pariahs. Even her father’s business could suffer.

“How dangerous is this information?”

“Danger is a strong word. If his secret endeavors became known, the humiliation would be devastating. I don’t necessarily need that to occur. But I do need him to believe it can. I need to him to know that no one can threaten the Lyon’s Den without feeling my claws.”

Sam wiped a hand over his face. “I hope this amuses you.”

“It does.” She steepled her fingers. “He employs private security and, I’ve heard, some fearsome dogs. Best of luck to you, my lord.”

Sam stood and strode for the door. Chase was in the hall, using a knife to clean under his fingernails. Sam stalked passed him.

“I could help, you know.”

Sam paused. “I don’t need your help.”

“You do.”

Sam spun to face him. “Why would I want or need your help?”

“I’ve already taken the liberty of scouting the grounds of the estate. The only way you can get in undetected is by climbing the wall to the second floor.”

Sam’s heart sank to his feet. He couldn’t climb a wall. Even his pride knew he did not have the strength in his arms, and his damned rib could at any moment lance his side with pain and he’d slip. Reaching above his head would feel like hot coals against his skin.

“I’ll take my chances. I’ve charmed my way into many houses without invitation.”

Chase smirked. “You won’t get in the front door.”

“Watch me.” Sam pivoted away. He didn’t have time to argue with Chase. He had to figure this out and not let doubt get in his way. If a diary was all that stood between him and Daisy, then nothing would stop him from getting his hands on it.

“Alston.”

Sam halted and turned to face him. “I beg your pardon. Do you think just because you’re the widow’s hound dog and that you come and go from my house uninvited gives you the right to address me? We’re not friends. After this, don’t ever enter my house again.”

Chase strode toward him, his emotions unreadable. Quicker than Sam anticipated, Chase swung at him. Sam dodged the hit, twisting and dipping his shoulder. Pain wrenched through his side, and he couldn’t breathe has he dropped to his knees.

Chase knelt before him and put a hand on his shoulder as Sam finally felt his lungs expand, just barely.

“See? You need my help. Stop acting like an arrogant prig and just accept it.”

Sam sucked in a breath, the fire in his side ebbing only a little. He hadn’t had to move that fast or twist like that since before his injury. “Why would you help me?” he wheezed.

A feminine gasp filled the hall. Chase glanced past him and small hands took Sam by the shoulders.

“My lord, are you all right?” Miss Brandon dropped to her knees at his side. “What did you do to him?” She speared Chase with a glare that made Sam smile as Chase flinched.

“I reminded him that he’s injured and should accept help when offered.”

“I’m fine,” Sam wheezed. “I moved too swiftly, that is all.” He drew in a bigger breath. His side was still burning but it was tolerable. He could move again. He pushed to his feet and so did Chase and Miss Brandon.

“I would hope you’d be wise and listen to Mr. Chase, my lord. He is as honest as they come, and a great deal more compassionate than he’d like others to know.”

“Is that so?” Sam watched Chase as a flush climbed his neck.

“To her, yes. To you, no.”

Sam smirked. It seemed Chase was feeling a bit more than protective over Miss Brandon, after all. Was he the reason she had released him from his obligation to marry he so swiftly? Could the feeling be mutual? Sam rolled his shoulders. Maybe Chase wanted to impress her.

“Fine. Help me. But we’re not scaling a damn wall.”

“It’s not negotiable.”

“Good God, why?”

“You’ll see. Meet me in your mews at seven, and wear something less... lordly. Look common.”

Sam nodded. “Understood.”