Lyon's Bride: the Chattan Curse
“Thea said, a bit startled by the request.
Lady Margaret took advantage of the moment and walked right into the house. “You heard what I said,” she replied. “If you value Lyon at all, if you care about him, you will walk away.”
“Is this about his requesting my assistance to find a wife?” Thea demanded. “Or is it about the curse?” She was tired, and her tone cynical.
“You mock the curse. Many have,” Lady Margaret said. “I don’t blame you. I wondered at one time if it was real or not, and I was raised with it.” She took a step toward Thea, her manner intense. “But it is true, and if you don’t remove yourself from his life, you’ll be signing his death warrant.”
“His death warrant?” Thea repeated in disbelief, only to be interrupted by Jonathan’s voice.
“Is everything all right, Mother?” He’d come halfway down the stairs. He’d removed his jacket and pulled his shirt from his breeches, but that was all he’d done in preparing for bed.
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