“My brother was everything that’s good in this godforsaken city, whereas you are a traitor, a manipulator, and a murderer. There is no room for people like you in this world.”
“I’m also a father. Aside from the last few weeks, I’ve been a good father to my son. You might not want me alive, but Giles does. And I’m going to see that he gets his wish.”
GILES
4:51 a.m.
After making one wrong turn, I rounded the last corner, and Somerton House came into view. I paused for a moment, catching my breath. Relief welled up in my throat, taut and aching. Joy soon followed. If I hadn’t been so terrified of drawing attention to myself, I would have whooped with laughter.
My relief turned into uneasiness when I realized I’d been standing out in the open for too long. I hurried past the entrance to the nearest town house and darted down the steps leading to the servants’ entrance. Protected by a wrought-iron railing, the servants’ stairwell provided a perfect lookout point.
Holding my cup and ball in one hand, I grabbed the black, dew-covered bars with my other and pressed my face close. Cold seeped into my fingers and cheeks, keeping me alert. I scanned the pavement and street outside Somerton House for the beggar I had seen earlier, even though Papa said the man was not really a beggar at all. But there was no sign of him now.
I still didn’t know what to make of what Papa had said. If the man wasn’t a beggar, why had he been sleeping on the ground? It made no sense. Sometimes it was impossible to understand grown-ups, especially when they spoke in riddles and nodded their heads, expecting me to understand their secret code.
My gaze fell on the first-floor window of Somerton House. Lamplight glowed behind the sheer curtains. I squinted, trying to see inside, but my angle was no good.
The thought of emerging from my hiding place made my heart race and my legs jittery. But Papa could be inside waiting for me. Why else would Lord Somerton be up at this hour? It’s so early that the birds haven’t even begun to chirp yet.
Tamping down my fear, I released my grip on the bars and began to ascend the steps. The moment I set my foot on the pavement, a carriage appeared around the corner. I stumbled back into the shadows, slamming my body against the side of the house. My breath wheezed from my lungs.
I followed the carriage’s slow progress as it passed my position. In the open window, a pretty woman’s profile appeared. The woman with the empty eyes. Clutching my toy to my chest, I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to make myself as small as possible. For some reason Papa didn’t want me around her, and after the intent way she had looked at me before, I didn’t want to be near her, either.
A full minute later, I could no longer hear the rattle of her carriage wheels. I made a fist with my free hand, preparing for battle. Slowly, I opened one eye, then the other.
Alone. My body sagged against the wall. For the first time, I didn’t mind being alone. Careful not to make a sound, I peered through the bars again. The carriage continued to lumber down the street until it was a mere speck in the distance.
Would the French lady return? Did she know Lord Somerton, or was her appearance a coincidence? A dozen more questions pelted my thoughts, but no answers surfaced.
There was nothing for it. I had to follow Papa’s instructions and hope all went well.
Bolstering my courage once again, I moved out of the protective shadows and into the lamplight. Knees knocking, I lifted my chin and took my first steps into the street…and into disaster.
MAC
4:57 a.m.
Mac stared down into the soft, gentle eyes of the only woman he had ever loved. Amelia Cartwright stood before him in the Hunt Agency’s entrance hall, fully dressed and with only a hint of exhaustion marring her beautiful face.
“Have you not slept at all?” he asked.
“The same could be asked of you.”
He glanced up
“I’m also a father. Aside from the last few weeks, I’ve been a good father to my son. You might not want me alive, but Giles does. And I’m going to see that he gets his wish.”
GILES
4:51 a.m.
After making one wrong turn, I rounded the last corner, and Somerton House came into view. I paused for a moment, catching my breath. Relief welled up in my throat, taut and aching. Joy soon followed. If I hadn’t been so terrified of drawing attention to myself, I would have whooped with laughter.
My relief turned into uneasiness when I realized I’d been standing out in the open for too long. I hurried past the entrance to the nearest town house and darted down the steps leading to the servants’ entrance. Protected by a wrought-iron railing, the servants’ stairwell provided a perfect lookout point.
Holding my cup and ball in one hand, I grabbed the black, dew-covered bars with my other and pressed my face close. Cold seeped into my fingers and cheeks, keeping me alert. I scanned the pavement and street outside Somerton House for the beggar I had seen earlier, even though Papa said the man was not really a beggar at all. But there was no sign of him now.
I still didn’t know what to make of what Papa had said. If the man wasn’t a beggar, why had he been sleeping on the ground? It made no sense. Sometimes it was impossible to understand grown-ups, especially when they spoke in riddles and nodded their heads, expecting me to understand their secret code.
My gaze fell on the first-floor window of Somerton House. Lamplight glowed behind the sheer curtains. I squinted, trying to see inside, but my angle was no good.
The thought of emerging from my hiding place made my heart race and my legs jittery. But Papa could be inside waiting for me. Why else would Lord Somerton be up at this hour? It’s so early that the birds haven’t even begun to chirp yet.
Tamping down my fear, I released my grip on the bars and began to ascend the steps. The moment I set my foot on the pavement, a carriage appeared around the corner. I stumbled back into the shadows, slamming my body against the side of the house. My breath wheezed from my lungs.
I followed the carriage’s slow progress as it passed my position. In the open window, a pretty woman’s profile appeared. The woman with the empty eyes. Clutching my toy to my chest, I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to make myself as small as possible. For some reason Papa didn’t want me around her, and after the intent way she had looked at me before, I didn’t want to be near her, either.
A full minute later, I could no longer hear the rattle of her carriage wheels. I made a fist with my free hand, preparing for battle. Slowly, I opened one eye, then the other.
Alone. My body sagged against the wall. For the first time, I didn’t mind being alone. Careful not to make a sound, I peered through the bars again. The carriage continued to lumber down the street until it was a mere speck in the distance.
Would the French lady return? Did she know Lord Somerton, or was her appearance a coincidence? A dozen more questions pelted my thoughts, but no answers surfaced.
There was nothing for it. I had to follow Papa’s instructions and hope all went well.
Bolstering my courage once again, I moved out of the protective shadows and into the lamplight. Knees knocking, I lifted my chin and took my first steps into the street…and into disaster.
MAC
4:57 a.m.
Mac stared down into the soft, gentle eyes of the only woman he had ever loved. Amelia Cartwright stood before him in the Hunt Agency’s entrance hall, fully dressed and with only a hint of exhaustion marring her beautiful face.
“Have you not slept at all?” he asked.
“The same could be asked of you.”
He glanced up
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