Page 39 of A Spinster's Guide to Landing a Lyon

Now as he stared at her, he pitied her. She was looking for something. Almost desperate. He could see it because he knew her. Though to others she might look composed, he could detect the panic in her.

And within himself…it wasn’t so much hatred anymore. Not even resentment. Love had blossomed in his heart for Amelia and there wasn’t as much room in there for such negativity as before. His chest inflated with relief. With a newfound freedom. Love was truly the most powerful force on earth.

And again, he wanted to turn and embrace his love. Devour her. Fill her soul with everything he had. But now was not the time. So he stood with his back to her, protectively. Doing what he did best. Ensure her safety.

“Call it what you will. But he needs you now.”

“Why?”

“He’s sick.”

“So you’re here for money?”

This was the first time she displayed any amount of insecurity. Pulling on the ruffled cuffs of her sleeves, she paused.

“He’s the rightful heir—”

Benedict’s feet stumbled back as if he’d been shoved.

“You must attend to this matter, whether you want to or not. You dismissed all three of my brothers at the Lyon’s Den when they tried to approach you, but I will not allow you to shirk your duties. Be the honorable man that you are.”

Knowing exactly what to say to have him capitulate, her words slashed through him like knives.

“I will take care of this. Of him. The boy. And then that’s all. I will not have you back.”

The discreetly startled expression on her face spoke louder than words. She had come to him with weighty expectations. But he wouldn’t be swayed.

“I have to take care of matters here first. I’ll travel tomorrow—”

“You must come today. Now.”

He didn’t think it remotely possible that the boy was his, but even if there was a tiny chance of it, he had a responsibility to care for the child.

He swiveled around to address the sisters only to find they had disappeared.

“Where did they go?” he asked Damien who was now standing in their place.

Regretfully, he shook his head. When his eyes lifted to match Benedict’s, they were full of pity.

“They went inside.”

“I must talk to her—”

Damien’s firm palm rested on Benedict’s chest. “She doesn’t want to talk to you, old friend.”

He was placating him by reminding him of their friendship. That Damien was only stepping in for his own good.

“Give her time. Let’s go figure this out and then you can come back.”

“I have to tell her something. I can’t leave like this.”

“Leave her a note. She doesn’t want to talk to you right now.” His voice lowered even more.

With heavy shoulders but single-minded determination, he retraced the steps he had taken with Amelia back into the drawing room where they had been making wedding plans. Though, not really making plans.

He saw a quill and paper and wrote a short note telling her that he would be back to explain everything. And that he would still be her husband, if she would allow it. With the scarcity of servants, he left the note on the table and exited the house.

If only that note had been read, things might have turned out differently.