“You dislike gambling.”
He didn’t appear pleased that she’d read him clearly. As if he too had things to hide.
“I’ve watched gambling ruin too many. Why would I give in to such a vice?”
Amelia raised a brow. “Why work at a gambling hall if you find the pursuit so disagreeable?”
“Why indeed. I have my reasons for the things I do that are not important to you.”
She cocked her head. He definitely didn’t want her to know anything personal about him, which made him even more interesting than he had been previously.
The door opened in a flurry of energy as Graham came straight to the drawing room.
“What the devil are you doing here at his hour?” he barked at Mr. Chase. To Amelia he said, “Why would you let him enter the house?”
“I didn’t want him on the front steps talking about you living here for the moment.”
Graham pressed his lips together, and the look he sent Mr. Chase both excited and scared Amelia. She’d seen him spitting mad but never angry enough to commit violence. That might soon change.
Mr. Chase sipped his tea. “You don’t want anything I have to say to be spoken out loud, I suspect.”
Graham pinned him with a glare before he slapped his top hat against his thigh and sat in the chair beside Amelia’s. Her skin pricked in awareness of him, and she was reminded of earlier, when he’d made her into liquid heat and then left her cold and empty. She clenched her teeth and turned her attention to Mr. Chase. She was almost glad he was there to distract them.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“You said yourbrother went north to manage his estate in Stirling, yes?”
Amelia schooled her features into a mask of indifference. “Yes.”
“Get on with it,” Graham ordered.
Mr. Chase dropped his friendly façade. “I have made various inquiries and it seems your brother never hired any horses or carriage along the Great North Road. Does this concern you?”
Amelia couldn’t regulate her breathing, if she were breathing at all. They hadn’t discussed the particulars of how he would have made the journey. Normally, he’d take his own horse and change horses along the journey or hire a carriage depending on the weather. But Mr. Blakewood had put Sam’s usual horse down out of mercy and the remains had been dealt with by the head stableman. Amelia didn’t know much more beyond that. She thought quickly.
“My brother sent a message,” Amelia blurted. “He arrived safely.”
“Why would you inquire in the first place?” Graham asked, pulling Mr. Chase’s attention off her. “What business of it is yours?”
“It isn’t my business. I work on Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s behalf. She wishes to know. May I see the letter?”
“No.” Amelia said firmly. Why was Mr. Chase so invested in her brother’s whereabouts? What did he want with him?
“For what purpose is she interested?” Graham pressed. “I know Alston has no outstanding debts with the Den.”
“Indeed, he always wins,” Mr. Chase said.
“Are you implying he cheats?” Amelia asked with outrage on her brother’s behalf.
“No, not at all. I’ve watched him play. He is highly skilled.”
“Then what does she want—?” Graham paused and swallowed, a hint of realization washing over his features.
Amelia looked between them. “What? What is it?”
“He would have told me if he had agreed to a match,” Graham said.
“He hasn’t agreed yet.” Mr. Chase replied. “But Mrs. Dove-Lyon worries about his absence and its impact on her plans.”
