Lyon’s Prey

it if you would join my staff at the end of the week.” Was this him speaking? It was his voice. An hour before, he would not have guessed he would be taking on a small boy. His small boy.
“Thank you, my lord. The young lord is an agreeable child. He has a pleasing way about him that could pull a smile from the grumpiest of men. He is a happy child.” She smiled. “I am happy to oblige.”
My son is happy? He lost his mother, and his father has done nothing but ignore him. Yet he was happy. Evan noticed that just this short period with his son had lifted his mood. Perhaps having the boy there would be exactly the tonic he needed. Or it could cause him to need a tonic. He was not sure, but it appeared the decision was largely out of his hands.
“Mrs. Donner, I want to move Edward into his nursery, and your continued services will make things easier. My housekeeper, Mrs. Hutchins, plans to freshen the room. If you have a favorite color, please let her know, and we will endeavor to obtain it for you.” It was a small price to pay for someone he was entrusting his son to. He smiled at his sister, who swiped at her eyes behind Mrs. Donner. Jesus, she cries when she is mad, and she cries when she is happy.
“Oh, Lord Clarendon, that is a wonderful offer. I should think a pale blue with hints of yellow would provide a bright and cheery background for the nursery. And if it pleases you, my lord, I am particularly partial to lavender. That would be such a nice color for my own room.”
He had committed, and there was no turning back. How on earth did I get to this moment when all I wanted to do was sleep this morning? Shaking off the self-serving thoughts, he smiled. “I believe those small requests can be arranged.” He handed his son to the nurse. “Thank you for your help, Mrs. Donner.”
“You are welcome, my lord,” she said, taking the child. She looked back at his sister and bobbed her head. “I will wait in the hall, my lady.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Donner,” Tom spoke up. “Catherine, we should let your brother get to his other guest.”
Evan touched his sister’s arm. She could make him angry, but he adored his sister. She turned, and he pulled her close. “I am truly sorry that I have put you and Tom in this position. I realize that Edward is my responsibility and I need to start being accountable for him. You have been—no, you are a wonderful sister. Thank you.” He gave her a quick kiss on the forehead. “If you can excuse me, I have kept someone waiting in my study.”
Catherine exhaled loudly and dipped her head. “We will be back later this week, Evan.”
He watched his sister and brother-in-law leave once more with his son. This time, however, he felt a curious glimmer of hope.

Chapter Two
Evan stood on the second-floor veranda and watched his brother-in-law’s black coach with a gold-encircled R emblem depart. Finally, he turned and headed toward his study. He could not seem to rid himself of the strange knot that had formed in his stomach and simply attributed it to tension. His body still suffered from lack of sleep, but his curiosity had awakened. Good grief! He wanted to sleep. However, a young woman had demanded to see him and had waited in his study nearly an hour. Bernard had told him she refused to leave before seeing him but showed herself very appreciative of the tea and biscuits.
He paused outside his study door before entering, fortifying himself and gathering his wits. He needed a moment after the emotional tussle he had just had with Catherine and Tom. What is this about?
Determined to address the woman’s issue and send her packing, Evan opened the door and stopped. A red-headed woman wearing a black dress and a burgundy velour pelisse turned away from his picture window and stared at him through the greenest eyes he had ever seen. Her loose hair cascaded down her back in long spirals.
“My lord.” Her words were curt as she bobbed her head, wearing a look of disgust.
“You have me at a clear disadvantage, my lady,” he ventured, giving her an opportunity to provide her name and state her business.
“I apologize for this interruption to your day.” She narrowed her emerald green eyes. “However, your carriage nearly ran down my brother Jason on St. James’s Street yesterday, before eventually stopping at your club so you could obtain nourishment,” she said, her tone dripping with anger and sarcasm. “He is but ten and pulled from my hand for a moment, thinking to run across to the flower vendor.”
He blinked. The wisp of a woman standing in front of him had verbally attacked him as if he was an underling of hers. She clenched her small hands into fists at her sides, and her green eyes shot daggers at him.
“What did you say your name was and”—he glanced warily around the room—“did you bring a chaperone?” Honestly, he needed a drink. “It is not my custom to entertain ladies alone in my study.”
She stammered. “I . . . I did not bring my chaperone with me this morning,” she said haltingly, as if just realizing it herself. “I am Lady Charlotte Grisham. My younger brother is the Earl of Romney, and you nearly killed him. He is a child, and your carriage did not even stop!”
Evan struggled to process what she was saying. Something with the names seemed off. “Surely you have confused . . .” Her back stiffened, causing him pause. He took a deep breath. “I apologize for my poor choice of words. May we begin again?”
She nodded.
“Lady Charlotte, I do not recall seeing you or your family carriage. I am familiar with the crest.” Realization hit him. “My God! I do know of