Lyon’s Prey

he had not even taken the time to know. Not to mention a woman had bested him in an argument that morning. No, it is already afternoon. Christ, when did he start getting up at lunchtime? “I am aware that my behavior has been a bit off, but I endeavor to work on that.”
Banbury nearly choked on his tea, spewing it all over himself. “Off, you call it?” His voice was incredulous. “Evan, I think my friend from a year ago would call it ‘dipping rather deep.’”
“Yes, well, I am duly chastised. I want to be my old self.” He quieted. “I just do not know how. Perhaps drinking tea instead of my customary brandy will help, but I confess, I would prefer the brandy.”
“I understand.” Banbury nodded. “Perhaps we should start with what you were wanting to talk to me about.”
“It has to do with a woman.” Evan glanced at Banbury, who had raised a brow. “Nothing like that,” he quickly added. Although she is a pretty sort, he thought and immediately succumbed to guilt. “Do you know of a Lady Charlotte Grisham?”
“The Earl of Romney’s daughter?” Banbury sat up. “She is a beautiful woman, but she is an innocent.” His voice raised. “You surely have not ruined her, Evan?” His voice was filled with disgust.
“Good heavens, no! I have become a drunk, not a debaucher of innocents!” He deserved Banbury’s scolding, he supposed. But coming from his best friend, who knew him better than anyone in the world, hurt. “I need to help her, and no,” he emphasized. “I only met her this morning.”
“I think you met her yesterday,” Banbury corrected. “Your . . . er . . . meeting is part of what brings me here today.”
“So it is true.” He sank down in his chair and put his face in his hands. “I nearly killed her brother with my carriage, and I do not recall a thing.”
“You did. I was not far behind you. We had been playing cards here, and you decided you needed a drink, and nothing would do but a trip to the Den. I was unable to dissuade you from going, so I spoke with Charles, asking him to return later with the carriage and collect you so you would not amble about the streets, as you have before.”
“You told her my name?
“Me? No, of course not. But you were recognized by another, and I believe he blurted out your name in a string of curses. I stopped to make sure no one had been injured. God’s teeth, man! The woman launched herself in front of your carriage to save her young brother. Both were injured, but miraculously, not seriously. And your carriage never slowed.”
Evan grew quiet. It was all true, and the worst kind of truth. I feel like a monster. “I intend to speak with my driver, realizing that I too bear responsibility.” He picked up his teacup, then set it back down without taking a sip. “I may as well ask my favor. It has to do with Lady Charlotte. Remember Longueville?”
“Yes, of course. It has been a while, but we had some great times with Matt. I did not make the connection when you first mentioned her name. He is in service now—the army, I believe.”
“He is missing and has been for about a year, since the Battle of New Orleans. It was the last time anyone heard from him. According to Lady Charlotte, Matthew was also declared dead when the earl recently passed, prompted by her uncle. Her mother’s brother has become the guardian and is in control of the finances. Do you know of Baron Langdale?”
There was a long moment of silence before Banbury finally spoke. “Yes, I know him.” He exhaled with exaggeration. “That is not a good arrangement. As you know, he owes nearly everyone in town. How was it he was made guardian? Did no responsible party look into his affairs? Matt would want us to help. What can I do?”
“According to the lady, her uncle insisted on her brother being named the heir, and I think we both know why that happened. He still has friends in high places, unless he owes them too.” He laughed sarcastically. “It may be easier to find Matt than to rid the family of the uncle’s guardianship. But we should try both. Perhaps you can ask Sinclair? I believe he would be willing to do it, but more so if the request came from you. I do not know him as well, but I know he located two other men for their families when they had been declared missing. He is like a bloodhound.”
“I will ask. Baron Langdale is known to raise a breeze or two for his own benefit. Her father was quite wealthy and made some shrewd investments, and this is quite a coup for him. The baron would not think twice about hanging on the sleeves of his nephew under the guise of guardianship.”
“I will cover all expenses,” Evan added.
“You know, it would be easier if she were married . . .” Banbury leaned back and grinned.
“Stop.” Evan’s tone was sharp. “I am sorry. I know you mean well, yet I urge you to quit this line of conversation. I am not ready to marry again.” Nevertheless, he wondered. Perhaps obtaining a wife would help with a son. It could be a wise thing to do.
No. He could not lose another wife in childbirth. He would not.
“I may never be able to marry again. To lose . . .” His voice dropped off.
“I understand, Clarendon. I will help on both fronts. Has anyone tried to find her brother before this?” Banbury stood and walked to the window.
“According to Lady Charlotte, her father told her he had engaged someone to look for her brother, but she has no idea whom, and they never received any word on it.”
“Romney and I use the same solicitor. Let me speak with Franklin and see what he knows. If Romney hired someone, it was probably through him.” There was a