Page 108 of The Lyon Whisperer
Her stomach hit the pavement. He must have passed her in his carriage when she’d entered the man’s shop.
“Extremely busy,” she answered. “Now I really must insist—”
“Alwaysinsisting. You and my wife really must get together for tea. You have so much in common.” He drew to a halt, shifting to face her.
He studied her briefly, then seemed to come to a decision. “I take it you shared my story with your husband, and he denied every word.”
She lifted her chin. “Of course he did. Your story was a complete fabrication.”
His eyes glittered with malice. “Don’t you see? It may as well have been true. The result is the same. My life was ruined, thanks to him. I am shackled to a shrew of a wife, one which should have been his. It wasn’t supposed to happen like that.Hewas supposed to marry her, not I.I am Lord Gavin Huxley of Tully, damn it,”he said through clenched teeth. “I could have married any woman I chose.”
Unnerved by both his outburst and the madness, for lack of a better word, twisting his handsome face into an ugly mask, she took a hasty step back.
She had no notion what to say to the man and feared saying the wrong thing would lead him to do something truly regrettable. Abruptly, a veneer of calm settled over the man. “Who knows, Lady Culver? Mayhap, given the chance, I would have courted you.” He reached down, intent on, she assumed, smoothing a strand of her hair behind one ear. She flinched back, but not far enough to evade his reach. She pinched her eyes closed.
Her husband’s voice cut through the air, each word articulated with deadly precision. “Do not touch my wife.”
Her eyes flew open. Her gaze shot past Lord Tully to the tall and forbidding form of her husband, hovering behind the tawny-haired earl like a dark, avenging angel.
She nearly sagged with relief. Tiny tremors vibrated through her. She had never been so happy to see anyone in her life. Then Chase spoke again.
“Or you will explain your actions over pistols at dawn.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
White hot angersizzled through Chase. But, then, he’d had some time to let it fester.
He’d left his business meeting earlier than planned, explaining to his uncle and Mr. Bender he did not wish for Amelia to wait on him.
The truth was, the irrational need to keep her in his sight, which had begun plaguing him before she stepped foot from the carriage had not abated, despite his best efforts.
Instead, a resounding sense of urgency to get back to her grabbed him by the throat and refused to let go, not that he could explain the compulsion to anyone, including himself.
Bender had been nonplussed by Chase’s abrupt departure. Uncle Harry had looked decidedly pleased.
Given the time, Chase would have set his uncle straight. He wasn’t some love-sick fool, unable to part from his wife for an afternoon. But he hadn’t had the time.
Then he’d arrived at the dress shop to find her gone.
According to the seamstress working the storefront, she had left almost immediately upon her arrival.
It was clear the young woman hadn’t wanted to reveal even that much, but as usual, his hard stare had a way of making people talk.
Madame Eloise was not so easily intimidated. If anything, she seemed amused by his ire.
According to her, Amelia was on a surprise errand forhim,which made absolutely no sense. Regardless, she would say no more on the matter, leaving him frustrated beyond measure as he watched her storm around her workshop like an admiral, barking orders at her seamstresses while seeming to have forgotten his presence.
He finally opted to venture outside, where he could contemplate his next move and pace without fear of knocking into a mannequin, gawking customer, or ream of frothy material.
He spotted Amelia on Tully’s arm immediately. Icy anger froze him in place, ’til he saw fear blossom on her face.
He had no recollection of bounding the short distance from the modiste’s shop to the next block where the two conversed, nor any notion of what he meant to say.
The challenge simply spewed from his mouth, and he meant every bloody word.
“See here, Culver, there’s no call for threats.” The earl reached into his waistcoat and withdrew a handkerchief with visibly shaking fingers. He mopped his brow.
“I assure you, my lord,” Amelia hastened to tell Chase, “Lord Tully meant no harm, and he was just leaving.” She shot Tully a glare.
