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assassin the list did not exist. Somerton would not be so careless as to commit the names of his Nexus agents to paper.”
    She waved a negligent hand in the air. “Men in power often become deaf to reason.”
    My shock at being caught faded when I realized Papa knew the French lady. How could this be? And why was Papa carrying a knife up his sleeve?
    “So he sent you,” Papa said.
    Fingering the tip of her bloody knife, she began to move in a circle around him. “He felt the situation needed a woman’s touch. We do tend to be much more tidy in these circumstances, don’t you think?”
    The big man circled around Papa from the opposite direction.
    “Papa,” I whispered.
    As if he’d heard me, his dark eyes bore into mine. “Run,” I heard him say.
    I shook my head, tears stinging my eyes. I couldn’t leave him.
    The lady began to walk in my direction, a look of determination on her face. Something about her eyes seemed lifeless and cold…empty somehow. A tremble of unease started in my stomach.
    “Run, Giles. Run!” Papa roared.
    Fighting back a sob, I turned. And ran.

 
     
    PART TWO
     
     
    DESPERATE FATHER
     

LATYMER
     
    3:14 a.m.
     
    Three minutes. That’s all it had taken for Latymer to incapacitate Collette’s last bodyguard and follow in her and Giles’s wake. But three minutes had been three too many, because both his son and the French assassin had disappeared into the warren that was London’s streets.
    Losing his son was only part of his heartache. The Gladys had set sail, and another ship wouldn’t be bound for America for five more weeks. Five weeks. They would be lucky to survive the next five hours. Keeping safe for over another month seemed nigh on impossible.
    Right now, he couldn’t think about The Gladys or America. His one and only concern at this moment was locating Giles. Dammit, where is he?
    An hour later, Latymer had investigated every nook and cranny between the Tower, his office near the docks, and Somerton House. Out of desperation, he’d even gone to Abbingale Home, only to discover the boys’ home inexplicably closed down.
    The only place left to look for his son—the only place he could imagine Giles would go—was the little house he’d bought for Lydia and Giles. They’d all been happy there once. He used to visit them several times a week, more when his schedule had allowed. On occasion, he had taken them on sightseeing outings or found private spots for the three of them to enjoy a quiet picnic.
    From the first moment he’d seen Lydia Clarke strolling along the banks of the Serpentine, he’d wanted her. Not only for her beauty and desirability, but also for the innocence and compassion he’d glimpsed in the depths of her green eyes. Lydia had never expected more from him than he could give. Her low birth dictated they could never marry, which meant Giles could never inherit his lands or title.
    She had known that one day he would have to marry a young, well-connected, preferably rich debutante who could provide his estate with an heir and refill his depleting coffers. A ton wife, trained to look the other way while he spent most of his time with his mistress and son. When he’d begun the search for an appropriate heiress two years ago, Lydia had cried. In all the years they’d been together, he’d only seen her shed a tear once before—when their son was born.
    The experience had staggered him. His reaction had confused him. Then angered him.
    He’d stayed away from Lydia for an entire month, during which time he’d flirted and danced with and kissed every eligible debutante on display that season. None of them had stirred a single lust-filled thought in his head. Not one.
    It was then he realized that he loved Lydia and would do anything to be with her and Giles. From then until now, every decision he’d made had been in service of securing their future.
    While lost in thought, his feet had led him to Lydia’s house without incident. Latymer felt a