It could not have been a simple walk she was doing. That wouldn’t have taken this long. She must have some purpose. Yet she had gone out alone, without escort. London was no place for a young woman, and especially one as beautiful as she was, to walk about alone.

He finally sent people out to look for her. When that produced no results, he went out himself to try to find her. He questioned the neighbors at her old address. He went to the docks to her father’s company office, which was nearly deserted now, with only a single clerk remaining. He even went by the warehouse where he had stored her possessions, even though he knew that was pointless, since he hadn’t given her the address of it yet, but he’d run out of options.

By the time he returned home, only to be informed she still hadn’t shown up yet, he acknowledged that his worry was getting out of hand. He went straightaway to her brother’s room, which he should have done sooner. If anyone would know where she had gone or why, the boy would.

He found the child abed, propped up with pillows and reading a hefty volume of Greek mythology, of all things, surely not by choice, though no one was with him at the moment to insist. Took his studies seriously, did he? Or perhaps he was simply so intelligent that he craved knowledge constantly, of any sort.

These were vague thoughts that didn’t last more than a second due to Vincent’s own craving for knowledge—about Larissa. “Where is your sister?”

He should have at least introduced himself first, realized that with the blank stare he was getting and started to correct the oversight. “I’m—”

“I’m sure I know who you would be, Lord Everett,” Thomas interrupted without the least change of expression. “My question is what is it that you require of my sister that has you so impatient to see her?”

“I am not the least bit impatient.”

The book was set aside. The boy even crossed his arms in a manner that indicated he would wait until he heard the correct answer. And his direct gaze was actually disconcerting. For a moment Vincent felt as if he were in the presence of the girl’s grandfather, rather than her ten-year-old brother. A brief moment.

In a tone gone stiff, Vincent explained, “While you both reside in my house, you are afforded my protection, which makes you more or less my responsibility for the time being. Yet I can’t assure her safety if she intends to traipse about London by herself.”

“Does she know you are accepting responsibility for her?” Thomas asked.

“I assume—”

The boy interrupted again with the offering, “You can’t assume where Rissa is concerned.”