The Lyon’s Legacy (The Lyon’s Den Connected World)

Chapter Two

J ohn shook his head when the carriage pulled through the opening between the round boxwoods. He’d been waiting in the hall of Eton for his son and reread the letter he’d received earlier that day. His stomach twisted as his eyes skimmed the lines he wished he’d never seen.

Dear Mr. Stonebridge,

With a sense of duty and respect, I write to you regarding your esteemed position within the House of Lords.

Your services are no longer required in your current capacity. This decision comes not from any inadequacy on your part but rather due to the rightful succession of your cousin, who is now prepared to assume the responsibilities and privileges associated with his birthright.

Your contributions during your tenure have been recognized and valued, and your dedication to your duties has not gone unnoticed. However, the time has come for the natural order of succession to be restored, ensuring that the legacy of leadership continues as intended.

I wish you every success in your future endeavors.

With respect and appreciation,

Edward Harrington

Clerk of the House of Lords

A whirlwind of thoughts flooded John’s mind. How quickly his life had changed—again. But before he could complete his thoughts, his son appeared—just as disheveled as the courier who’d delivered the letter.

“Are you speaking with yourself rather than me again?” Herbert suddenly tugged at his coat, which was heavily embroidered for John, the duke—a position that felt heavier without the title than with it. “You didn’t have to collect me from Eton if you didn’t wish for my company.”

“I always cherish your company, son.” With more time on his hands now, no longer the Duke of Duncan, John hoped to be more present for Herbert. This newfound freedom could be his chance to be a better father—though he wondered if it was enough without a title to pass on. “You should be home for your birthday.”

“I’ll be thirteen this month, Father. I’m not a little child anymore.”

“Yes, you are. And you will always be to me.”

His freckled face and unkempt hair made him look like a child indeed—and the dearest one, making John’s heart soar in a way he couldn’t say. And like a child, Herbert groaned and shifted in his seat during the entire ride home.

And yet, as soon as the carriage came to a stop, John breathed easier. They were home. Oh how he loved Starcliff Castle.

The staff had lined up in front of the main entrance.

It was truly odd coming home without being in charge of the estate but it was still good to be home. In the center stood Dustin, the reigning Duke of Duncan, with his new wife, Lexi. And next to her—John swallowed hard—was her beautiful sister, Melissa.

An unexpected visitor.

John’s gaze lingered on her for just a moment too long, tracing the curve of Melissa’s cheek before darting away, his jaw tightening as he fought to steady himself. His hand twitched at his side, as though resisting the urge to reach out, and he pressed his foot harder into the floor, grounding himself against the pull she always seemed to have on him.

Initial greetings and a warm welcome were exchanged, and John placed a brotherly kiss on Lexi’s hands. “How nice to be welcomed by my family, Lexi. I see that you’re flourishing in your position as Mistress of Starcliff Castle.”

She reddened, and Dustin wrapped an arm around her waist. “She’s doing a marvelous job, John. I’m not sure I can say the same.”

“I’ve been gone for less than two weeks,” John gave Dustin a stern look. “What happened?”

It was uncanny, truly. If John’s father hadn’t been born a year after Dustin’s, he’d be the heir, not the spare. And he wouldn’t have to feel like a guest in his home since Dustin and Lexi moved back in as the duke and duchess.

And he’d know what to say to the beauty—Melissa—who was once again there to visit her sister. John hadn’t seen her since Dustin and Lexi were married.

“Lady Thumbridge,” John bowed more deeply than he ought and tried not to linger as he kissed Melissa’s gloved knuckle. She was spoken for by Prinny—or better yet, reserved by him. No wonder the prince took the cream of the crop—not that any crop could ever create something as perfect and gorgeous as Melissa.

That was the problem, of course; the prince had the right to claim the nation’s most beautiful women for himself, but he was also keeping the most intelligent ones. Although John couldn’t explain why it irked him so, he rather wished Melissa were not at the castle. It was enough that she’d been on his mind constantly since she’d walked down the aisle in the chapel of Starcliff Castle.

John swallowed hard. He had to do something about his hard body and drifting mind these days. Having less work didn’t behoove him, and his thoughts trailed to Melissa too often. She’d had white lilac braided into her hair, and ringlets of her lush hazelnut curls cascaded over her laced cleavage. It was so hard to look away and not stare, that it pained John.

“Herbert, come on, I have something to show you.” Dustin led Herbert into the castle and John followed along with the others. Cousin Dustin had set up a small doctor’s office with two chambers. In the larger one, there was a bed and a large cupboard filled with medicines. He’d organized an apartment within the castle for the doctors from 87 and 91 Harley Street to visit the estate for a few days at a time so that they may mix business with pleasure, offering various treatments to the local farmers and villagers. John had also arranged for the shepherd’s wife to be taken to London for surgery, but the others had received care at the estate. It had all been agreed upon when John donated to the new Rehabilitation Center at Cloverdale House in London, where the doctors from Harley Street treated patients who needed time to recover, reserving a room for any of his tenants to always have space there.

“Are you making me watch again?” Herbert asked, shrugging his school uniform coat and pulling up his sleeves.

John followed his son, who was dragging his feet as he followed Dustin. Lexi and Melissa were behind them, but in front of John, he noticed how gently Melissa wrapped her arms around her sister. He knew she was an excellent big sister—better than he was for Dustin in every way. Not that John wasn’t a big sister of course, but he should be like a brother to Dustin and hoped he could fulfill his responsibility.

Although John didn’t begrudge Dustin the prestige but didn’t know what to do next. And what would Herbert do if he was no longer the heir?

At the same time, John worried that Dustin was better prepared to run a small hospital than the estate.

“You don’t need to watch; you may assist,” Dustin said, and John heard Herbert gasp.

“Really? During a surgery?” Herbert leaned forward, his eyes gleaming.

“It’s not a big one,” Dustin said in a low voice as if to rein in Herbert’s enthusiasm, though a faint smirk played at his lips.

“Can I stitch the incision up?” Herbert asked eagerly, his fingers already twitching as if he could feel the needle in his grasp.

“Do you even know how to tie a surgical knot?” Dustin tilted his head, his tone carrying a mix of skepticism and amusement.

John watched them carefully, his unease growing as Herbert’s zeal for the task seemed to overshadow the weight of what they were doing. Dustin’s confidence was sharper now, less forgiving, and it left John wondering if he was witnessing the start of something reckless—or revolutionary. Whatever it was, he had the sinking feeling it might be beyond his control.