Lyon's Bride: The Chattan Curse by Cathy Maxwell Read Free Book Online Page A

empty.”
    “She took all the money I’d saved,” Thea said. “Every penny. Mrs. Hadley doesn’t know where she is. Apparently Mrs. Gray has a fondness for drink. She could be anywhere right now.”
    “And what of your marriage?” he asked, pressing his luck. “I hadn’t heard that you had married.”
    Thea’s lips quirked into a smile. “Aren’t you being nosey, Neal?”
    She’d called him by his Christian name, certainly a sign of a truce growing between them. “I am, but only because I care.”
    She shook her head, humming her disbelief. “No, we shall not go there.”
    Neal tamped down the desire to argue. He really was curious about what path her life had taken. If she’d been in trouble, she could have contacted him—but then she was right. He had abandoned her all those years ago. He had turned his back on her.
    Regret was an uncomfortable emotion.
    “Come, Thea. Let us have a good dinner and rekindle our friendship.”
    “You just want me to find a wife for you,” she argued, but her words lacked their earlier heat.
    “Aye, I do. I want what you have, Thea. I want children.”
    She nodded her understanding and gave her sons a pensive touch on the shoulders as they clambered into the coach.
    In no time they were on their way to the Clarendon, one boy hanging out of one window and another boy hanging out the other so they could see all the sights along the way. They exclaimed over the stocky workhorses pulling drays, laughed at a juggler entertaining on a crowded street corner, and carried on about how “their” coach was far finer than any of the others on the road.
    It was the most enjoyable trip Neal had ever made. The boys fascinated him. They had their own personalities and came up with their own thoughts. He’d equated children to being much like dogs who followed one around and did as bid. These lads were more imaginative, more engaged, more alive with life than he could ever have anticipated.
    Thea was far from comfortable with him still. Even though they sat close enough that their legs brushed each other, she turned away from him, studying the passing scene outside her window, one hand on Christopher’s coat in case he tumbled out in his excitement.
    At this angle, she gave him a view of her very fine profile. She was a stubborn woman, a determined one, the sort he needed.
    “I’ve had all sorts of matchmaking offers,” he said.
    She turned, looked at him. Her eyes had a grayish tint, like a stormy summer sky. “I am certain you have. Why were they not successful?”
    “I was not interested.”
    She nodded as if he’d confirmed something she’d already known. However, the coach slowed to a stop. Bonner opened the door for them.
    “Come, Master Martins,” Neal said. “And your mother.”
    Christopher was reluctant to leave Blen and Cully, but a word from his mother and he was obedient. They entered the Clarendon. The doorman recognized Neal and greeted him with great fanfare.
    “It is good to see you again, my lord.”
    “Thank you, Thomas.” Neal often ate at the Clarendon. He preferred the food over that of his clubs.
    The lobby was busy with much coming and going. Neal offered Thea his arm. She hesitated, as if debating whether to refuse or not, then shook her head. Neal didn’t mind her standoffishness. She kept careful boundaries around herself. He understood, realizing he did the same.
    Jonny and Christopher walked beside their mother, their heads turning as they were taking in all they could see. They all paused at the cloakroom to remove their headgear and the boys’ coats. It was at that moment that a group of stylish women walked out of the dining area. They were all giggling and crowded around Neal’s brother.
    Harry was wearing one of his Horse Guard uniforms, and the boys honed in on it.
    “Lyon,” Harry hailed Neal with lazy good humor. He steered his harem toward them. “You must try Jacques’s poulet en croute . He has outdone himself