Page 52 of The Lyon Whisperer
Chapter Twelve
Chase made ithome much later than he’d intended when he sent Amelia ahead via the coach.
He had imagined arriving in time to wash and dress for dinner. Instead, it was nearly midnight when he crossed the threshold into a dark Warren House, silent save for the snoring butler in the entryway.
He peeled out of his greatcoat and eyed the man dozing on the wooden bench near the coatrack. On the journey home, he had weighed the possibility of finding Amelia awaiting him in the foyer, or at the base of the grand staircase.
As much as he knew the idea to be ridiculous, he could admit to a fleeting sense of disappointment upon discovering Mr. Oliver dozing on the wooden bench near the coatrack rather than his wife.
The older man came to with a start, heaving himself to his feet. He took Chase’s coat and waited as he stripped off his gloves. “Welcome home, milord.”
“You needn’t have waited up, Mr. Oliver. I’m quite capable of seeing myself up to my chamber.”
“No bother, sir. Shall I have a light meal prepared for you?”
“No. Take yourself off to bed.” He started toward the broad steps, then paused, hand on the newel post. “All is well with Lady Culver? Her short journey did not tire her overly?”
Mr. Oliver surprised him with a rare grin. “Indeed no, milord. Lady Culver spent much of the day exploring—the manse and the outdoors. Your lady enjoys her walks, it seems.”
Chase frowned at his butler. “Outdoors? Not alone, I hope?”
“No, sir. Her young lady’s maid accompanied her.”
“I see. Goodnight, then.”
He continued up the stairs.
He strode down the shadowed corridor, pausing outside his wife’s door in search of a tell-tale seam of light to indicate she might be awake. All was dark and quiet.
Feeling unreasonably sullen, he continued on to his bedchamber.
Once inside, he stoked the dying embers in the hearth, reigniting the fire. In minutes, warmth radiated from the grate, banishing the worst of the night chill.
He dropped onto the armchair facing the fire, removing his boots and stockings. A bone-deep weariness settled over him. No surprise there. He had slept a mere two hours that morning after Amelia departed—just enough time to take the edge off his fatigue.
As planned, he made his way to Dodd’s residence, where he’d questioned the man. He denied any involvement, of course, and insisted he had never seen the tallow-coated rags.
But Chase saw something in the man’s expression that said he lied.
Where had he got his hands on the fabric? And what had motivated him to act at all? Chase could not see him putting himself at risk for mere revenge. There had to be something in it for him.
The whole ride home he’d stewed over the pieces of this puzzle that did not fit. Oddly, he looked forward to sharing what he had learned—and what he hadn’t—with Amelia.
His sleep-deprived mind also returned again and again to the interlude between him and Amelia before the fire called him away.
He recalled in vivid detail her passionate response to him, her enraptured expression when he brought her to climax, the silken feel of her on his fingers, and musky scent of her sex.
He spent much of the two-hour ride home hard as rock, despite his fatigue.
He needed sleep, but his body hungered—for Amelia.
Soon. She’d come to him soon and put an end to this nonsense.
That would put a stop to his infernal obsessing over the woman. He was like a greenhorn lad with his first crush—not that he’d ever experienced anything like this constant craving, even as a youth. Not even when he’d courted Millicent.
With a frustrated growl, he rose to peel out of his garments then moved to the basin to scrub off the worst of the day’s grime. He’d prefer a hot soak in a steaming bath, but couldn’t see waking the staff for such a luxury. He was toweling off when a soft scratch sounded from his bedchamber. His head jerked in that direction. His bedchamber which adjoined Amelia’s. Had she knocked?
He snorted, and finished drying. Probably more wishful thinking. He slipped into his robe and padded from the antechamber to the grate in his bedchamber to reignite the flames in anticipation of climbing into bed.
