Page 2 of The Lyon Deception

“All of that is true,” Maxwell had agreed when the table fell silent again. “I have made enquiries, and Armytage is a hard man to reason with. But unfortunately we now have no choice but to do so.”

“But why?” Cat had asked innocently. “Can’t we pay him back the original loan and be done with him?”

The smile her father had turned on her was fond but sad, and her heart sank even lower. “I wish it were that simple, Catriona,” he said. “Under the terms of the original loan that was agreed between the old duke and Sir Hector, interest was to accrue for every year the amount remained unpaid. No one expected it to run this long. Now the sum owing is . . .” He had swallowed. “Such a sum that I find it impossible to repay. We could live on bread and water for years and still not manage to satisfy Armytage.”

There had been a long silence as every one of them tried to understand the enormity of their situation.

“How did you find out?” Callum said, struggling to come to grips with the facts. “When it was years ago? Why has this happened now?”

“Lord Armytage has written to me. He has demanded the amount be repaid. In full.”

“But surely we can find the money from somewhere?” Donal burst out. “Even if we have to sell some of the estate—”

“No,” Maxwell interrupted quietly. “It is an enormous amount.” He took a deep breath. “Thirty thousand pounds.”

A horrified silence had fallen over them. Cat could not begin to imagine that amount of money. How could they ever repay it? Her father was right; it was impossible.

After a moment, Penelope, Callum’s wife, had spoken up. “Can you not use some secret of Lord Armytage against him? Threaten him if necessary.” Her pale eyes looked dazed. Beneath her gown, her belly swelled with her unborn child, and Cat imagined she was picturing them evicted from the castle and left to roam penniless throughout the land.

Perhaps Penelope had also remembered Maxwell’s instruction to Callum to marry a wealthy wife, which Callum had disobeyed. Not that Maxwell had held that against either of them. He loved all of his daughters-in-law. But perhaps this was a moment when he might be wishing that at least one of his sons had married an heiress, instead of giving their hearts free rein.

“Have no doubt, Penelope, I have tried to find some hold on him,” Maxwell said, but gently. “I have chased rumor and gossip down every wynd and close, but I could find nothing that was not already known. The man will not budge. He wants the money or the castle and the land that goes with it. And he insists he is within his rights under the law.”

“This is Hector’s fault!” Rory’s voice had risen angrily as his quick temper caught fire. “He should be helping us!”

His wife, Grace, had put her hand on his to steady him. “Can Hector help us?” she asked Maxwell, her dark hair a little tangled from her earlier walk in the forest with her husband.

“He hasn’t the funds,” Maxwell had said. “And he had forgotten all about it. He is as shocked as I am, and as sorry.”

“If we cannot reason with Armytage and we cannot pay him back, then we must find another way,” Donal had declared hopefully.

His wife, Agatha, had agreed, her bright-blue eyes blazing. “Yes, we need a scheme! You say he lives like a hermit, but he must have someone. Has he family? One of them may be persuaded to help. Is there a wife or daughter he is fond of and who will speak to him on our behalf?”

Maxwell had considered the question. “Apart from the daughter who couldn’t abide him and ran away, I believe he has a grandson. I suppose he will inherit Armytage’s fortune when he dies, but from what I hear, the lad abides in London and spends his time gaming and drinking. He will run through Armytage’s money in no time. That would serve Armytage right, if it were not our money he was wasting.”

The MacKenzies had continued to try to think of ways to escape this awful trap they had fallen into so unexpectedly. The conversation circled around and around, but the only thing they could decide upon was a prompt visit to their solicitor in Edinburgh and possibly a court case. Which would, according to Maxwell, at least give them some breathing time, even if would likely just delay the inevitable.

“I have written to James,” Maxwell had said when they had exhausted every possibility. His brother-in-law, Luna’s sister Jennie’s husband, was the Earl of Strathmore. “He is a clever man and is acquainted with a great many legal people. He will help.”

“And so we wait?” Callum had said glumly, reaching to take his wife’s hand.

“Aye, we wait,” Maxwell had agreed soberly.

And now here Cat sat in her window, staring out at the view she loved. The memories of last night crowded her head making it ache. She tried to imagine a different life. When her grandfather had died and her parents returned to Bonnyrigg, she had been a mere babe. Unlike her brothers, she had grown up here in the castle and assumed she would be here always.

A tear rolled down her cheek. Impatiently, she dashed it away. She would not grieve yet. There must be something she could do, there must be!

Her thoughts alighted on this grandson of Armytage’s. The waster and scoundrel. Was Agatha right? Could he be worked on in some way? Could she persuade or pressure him until he agreed to help them? Her family all said she was very persuasive. It couldn’t hurt to find out, could it? Cat had never been to London, unlike her three brothers, who had all traveled south and stayed with their Aunt Jennie in the capital. Perhaps the time had come for Cat to follow in their footsteps and at the same time pay a visit to this young man and work her wiles on him.

Chapter Two

The Lyon’s Den, Cleveland Street, London

The Honorable Sinclair Robertson, Master of Armytage, sat glumly in his chair, staring at the cards in his hand. They weren’t what he had hoped for, and now he was looking at losing yet again. He glanced up at the woman across the table from him, with her beringed fingers and the impenetrable black netting she wore to hide her face.

Recognizing his predicament, she sighed. “Sinclair, you are playing atrociously.”

He choked out a laugh. “I know. Apologies, Mrs. Dove-Lyon. I am so very sorry you are winning my money tonight.”