Page 157 of The Lyon Whisperer
“You don’t say?” He held out both his hands toward her. In another moment, her smaller hands were engulfed in his.
“I hope you can forgive me in time, Amelia. I never meant—”
She shushed him and squeezed his fingers. “We shall start anew. In truth, there is not all that much to forgive. Maybe, sometime soon, we can spend an afternoon together and you can tell me more about my wild and untamable mother.” She sent him a tentative smile.
He grinned back, affection shining in his faded eyes. “I’d like that.”
Amelia trotted upthe stairs for her bedchamber, anxious to remove her dusty gown before Chase came for her.
Her mind was awhirl. Meeting the Black Widow of Whitehall, learning the woman had known her mother, the revelations of her father concerning her mother, and at the forefront, the many wonderful things Chase had said to her father about her all vied for her attention.
Chase.He’d not only defended her, he’d sung her praises. He vowed to protect her and provide for her. He stood behind her in a show of solidarity the likes of which she’d never experienced.
She flung the door to her chamber open and dashed for the vanity, and the fresh basin of water, already stripping out of her gown.
She knew she should be content with what he had given her today.
Instead, her greedy heart yearned for more: a declaration of love.
She kicked out of her skirts, unlaced, and removed her boots, and peeled off her undergarments.
She set herself to scrubbing off the worst of the day’s grime and wondered how severe her talking-to would be. She had, after all, disregarded her husband’s express directive not to ride alone into town.
Afterward, she dried herself and applied a liberal amount of her favorite perfumed oil, essence of rose and bergamot. She breathed deeply of the soothing scent then began to dress.
She was nestled on the chaise in her antechamber, reading, her toes tucked under her skirts, when a solid rap sounded on her door.
She set the book aside and folded her hands in her lap. “Come.”
Chase entered the room, closing the door behind him.
She smiled, enjoying the sight of his large, masculine body in her feminine chamber, with its pastel-peach wall coverings and painted furniture.
He stood there a long moment, his dark eyes skimming over her with brooding intensity. Then, he jammed a hand through his hair and stalked toward her.
“Well, Amelia. Have you anything to say for yourself?”
She tilted her head back to gaze up at him.
“I do,” she said softly. “Thank you, for the things you said earlier.”
He slanted her a petulant look and dropped onto the armchair adjacent to the chaise. “Do not think to distract me, madam. Do you know what you put me through earlier?”
She sat up, untucking her feet and planting them on the ground. “I know you must have been very angry when you discovered I disobeyed you.”
“Angry? Is that what you think?” he erupted.
She swallowed. “Well, yes.”
He shook his head. “I suppose I was.Am.”A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Why did you do it?”
His tortured tone tugged at heart. She could combat anger. She didn’t know how to deal with this. She didn’t even know whatthiswas.
“I…needed answers. I intended to broach the subject of the wager with you this morning, but you announced you were leaving.”
He rose and paced to the window. “Once I realized Millicent and Dodd’s ‘Molly’ were one and the same, I knew I had found the means to cancel my uncle’s debt to your father. She would do anything to avoid a scandal that might cost her reputation, and her father would do anything for her.”
“Howdidyou figure it out?”
