Page 141 of The Lyon Whisperer
“Well then, allow me to inform you that you charmed one of the most powerful matriarchs in London. Come, let’s make our way outside. We’ll speak in the carriage.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chase vaulted intothe carriage and settled beside her instead of taking his customary position on the bench opposite her.
Of all the nights he might choose to show affection, it would have to be tonight when she wanted nothing so much than to curl into herself and shut out the world—starting with him.
The carriage lurched into motion.
To her surprise, Chase took her gloved hand between his large palms. She somehow did not flinch or pull back. He had removed his kidskin gloves. He had such beautiful hands. Long fingered and slightly tanned, nails cut short and neatly trimmed.
She turned her head and feigned interest in the passing scenery, though the long line of carriages exiting the property meant they traveled at a snail’s crawl.
“What did you wish to tell me?” she asked. She’d meant to broach the subject burning through her, Millicent’s revelations damning Chase and her father, but, coward that she was, the words would not come out.
“Lady Frommer came looking for you, but, in typical Amelia fashion, you were dancing.” He drew her hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to her wrist. “She told me she had discussed my notions for aiding the veterans with the Earl of Claybourne, no less, and Viscount Randall. Do you know of them?”
“Of course. The Claybourne earldom hails from Derbyshire. Theirs is an old and distinguished bloodline, with close ties to the Crown. Viscount Randall also commands much respect. Congratulations, Chase. You’re well on your way to success.”
“Thanks to you. Thanks to your diligence in planning, your hostess skills…”
She snorted at that, charmed despite her misery.
“…your generous and kind nature.”
She looked at him, then, searching his face in the night-dark carriage.
Chase stared at her, intent and somber. “She also intends to take two of the puppies off of your hands.”
Another palpable blow—despite the fact she’d known all along the day would come when she would have to let them go. “I see.”
“Evidently, she has twin grandchildren whom she intends to entertain with the mongrels.”
She lowered her eyes to her free hand, fisted in her lap. “Another of your goals, nearly achieved. You must be pleased.”
Momentary silence greeted her words.
He released her fingers to lay a warm palm on her belly. He smoothed it over her midriff in a gentle caress. “It occurs to me I did you a disservice, madam wife. I stole you away without taking you in to supper. You must be famished.”
She shook her head. “In truth, I could not eat a thing.”
“And why is that?” he asked softly.
Amelia turned her gaze pointedly outside as the carriage turned onto a relatively deserted street and picked up speed. Soon they would reach the highway for home.
Home.It had seemed such a welcoming place. Almost a haven—before she understood the true basis of her marriage.
“I spoke to Tully,” he said.
She snapped her head in his direction, unable to stop herself. “Lady Tully?” she asked in a too-loud voice.
“Her, too, later, and she was certainly in an odd frame of mind.”
“Oh?” Blood rushed in her ears.
“But I refer to Lord Tully. He claimed to have no notion of the fires. I believed him.”
“Excellent. No doubt you’ll make the extended deadline for the shipyard order.”
