Page 48 of The Lyon Returns
Brice sauntered to the armchair facing Gideon’s large desk. “Very few demands? That’s it? That’s what recommended her, why you offered marriage? You expect me to believe that drivel?” He sat, studying Gideon as if working out a puzzle. “Did you know her before sailing? Is that the real reason you left when you did?”
Brice had Gideon’s full attention, now. “An interesting assertion.”
As if he’d caught the scent of the hound, Brice went on. “Yes, that makes perfect sense—a lot more than the two of you meeting aboard a ship and falling in love.” He waggled his index finger in the air as if on the verge of making a brilliant discovery. “Let me see if I have this figured correctly. You sailed for Calcutta with her and her father, already with the intent of marriage.”
Gideon held himself still. An interesting assertion, and one he didn’t want to deny. It would add another layer to their story.
Brice’s eyes narrowed in evident concentration. “You kept her secret because…” Abruptly his brows shot up. He snapped his fingers. “You didn’t want Grayson sniffing around her like he did with Fannie, is that it?”
Gideon’s blood turned to ice. Mentioning his late wife was one thing. Bringing up Grayson and Fannie in the same sentence was quite another. To this day he didn’t know how much Brice had worked out about the events of that summer, when Gideon had returned home to England and within a month, wed Lady Frances ‘Fannie’ Rothman.
“I have no notion of what you mean,” he said, his voice very soft.
Brice’s gaze filled with sympathy, or pity, Gideon couldn’t say, and he wouldn’t ask. No matter what had happened, Grayson was his brother.
“He’s a grown man now, Gideon. You should put the past away. Forgive and forget—”
“Enough,” he growled.
Brice crossed his arms over his chest, arching one perfectly shaped brow. “You are in a mood, aren’t you? Never mind.” He waved his hand in dismissal. “Far be it from me to tell the great man himself how to conduct his private affairs.” He examined his manicure. “I’ll just say congratulations, then, hm?”
“Thank you,” Gideon said, crisply.
“What did you want to ask me?”
“Grayson and Mrs. Dove-Lyon informed me you filed a claim for the consortium’s loss, rather than waiting for me to do it.”
He had the grace to flush.
“Is it because you’d heard the rumors alluding to my death and chose to believe them?”
Brice drew himself up with obvious affront. “Good God, no. If you must know, I needed my share of the money. I only did what youwould have upon your return, which, I expected months ago. Mind telling me what on earth kept you, as your wife apparently voyaged home with her father a good two months prior to you?”
“You knew I had a serious rat problem in my import business.”
Brice snorted. “A rat who kept nibbling away at your inventory?”
Gideon inclined his head.
“Did you rid yourself of the infestation?”
He decided not to share what he and Gwen had both reasoned out—he had found no evidence of foul play because there was none to be found. “The problem has been resolved.” Or so he suspected.
Brice met Gideon’s eyes. “Takenen route, then?”
He’d drawn the same conclusion as everyone else. Dirk Kennedy, his trusted captain, his loyal friend, had pilfered Gideon’s goodsen routefrom Calcutta to England with increasing boldness, and then, in a final act of betrayal, stole not only the rifles bound for Spain, but the cargo ship on which they sailed.
Gideon must’ve shot Brice a glare, because he spread his arms open wide. “What else, Gideon?Whoelse? You gave the man too much rope, and he hung himself with it. I’m truly sorry.”
Gideon heaved a sigh as a great weariness settled on him. “Where do we stand with the insurance claim?”
Brice steepled his fingers. “You know of the investigation Lloyd’s initiated? The…” he shifted in his seat, “suspicion the Spanish navy threw on you?”
“I do. Evidently, half the polite world is aware. Any idea who leaked the rumors?”
“None. No one I ask seems to have a clue—and you better believe I did ask, as well as tried my best to convince my contacts at the Home Office that the claim against you was nonsense—after they finally had the good grace to share the report with me. I pointed out rather vocally that the so-called evidence was nothing but conjecture.”
“I appreciate that.”
