you.”
She caressed my cheek. “Don’t be so sure, bel homme .”
“What do you want?”
Another man and woman slipped out of the house.
“Wrong question,” she purred, rubbing her cheek along the side of my head.
“Whom do you want?” a lady with short-cropped hair asked.
“Clever girl.” The French woman rested her chin on top of my head. One long finger pointed at Lord Somerton. “He’ll do.”
Her answer didn’t sit well with his lordship’s friends. The two men and women fanned out in a protective circle around the earl. Each one now held a weapon and a fierce expression.
I felt weak with terror and had no time to understand what was happening. Then I heard the pounding of galloping horses, and we all pivoted toward the sound. All I could make out was the shape of two riders barreling forward. Their clothing and faces were in deep shadow, creating a menacing sight. With no thought but to flee, I jammed my toy into my captor’s face.
She screeched and released me. Lord Somerton captured her wrists, giving me a chance to stumble away. And that’s when the battle began.
“Giles, up!” Papa yelled at me, reining in hard.
Whirling around, I saw Papa on a huge black horse, coming right at me. Terror and delight kept me rooted in place.
Someone from behind lifted me in the air and tossed me onto the back of his saddle.
“Hold on.”
I wrapped my arms tight around Papa’s waist and pressed my face into his back. My throat clenched together so hard I could barely breathe. My nose stung from holding back the tears. Sending up a silent prayer, I thanked God for giving me back my papa.
LATYMER
5:54 a.m.
I knew I would not make it. The bullet in my shoulder had done far more than rip through flesh and muscle. My body was dying, one breath at a time. Shivers rippled along my cold, clammy skin and the entire left side of my torso pulsated with excruciating pain. I remained conscious by a slim, frayed thread. But I had to hold on—for just a little longer. If I did nothing else in this life, I had to get Giles to the office near the docks. I had to.
At this moment, the only thing keeping me seated on my horse was my son’s small arms clutched around my middle, a constant reminder to push on, despite the agony of living. After all he’d been through, Giles still trusted me, his father, to keep him safe. And, God help me, I would do so with my last breath.
I covered my son’s clasped hands, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “Almost there.” I had so many damned regrets weighing on me, but Giles was not among them. With every innocent smile, my son revealed what was truly important in life—family, love, happiness. I’d had all that for a time—until I decided to take the shortest route to achieving my goals. Had I gone about securing my family’s future the right way, we would all still be together. I choked down another regret, one more to add to an ever-increasing list.
We were close to the docks now. Close enough for my mind-numbing fear to ease its death grip. I guided our horse toward the two-story, dark, gray-stone building. “Hop down, son.”
Giles slid off the horse, using my injured arm to steady himself. Black spots formed before my eyes, and I clamped my teeth shut, weathering the torment as quietly as I could. Once Giles’s feet hit the ground, I took a moment to swipe my fevered brow and regain my breath. Then I slowly lowered myself down.
My world spun, and agony heaved through me in great, unrelenting waves. I went down hard and landed on one knee with such force that the bones scraped together.
“Papa!”
Blindly, I reached for my son and found his fragile yet firm weight an immeasurable comfort. “Tie off the horse.”
“But, Papa—”
“Do it. Before he runs off. Grab the saddlebag.”
I shook my head to clear my vision and slowly, clumsily stumbled to the office door. Glancing back, I waited for Giles and noted the horse’s gleaming black
She caressed my cheek. “Don’t be so sure, bel homme .”
“What do you want?”
Another man and woman slipped out of the house.
“Wrong question,” she purred, rubbing her cheek along the side of my head.
“Whom do you want?” a lady with short-cropped hair asked.
“Clever girl.” The French woman rested her chin on top of my head. One long finger pointed at Lord Somerton. “He’ll do.”
Her answer didn’t sit well with his lordship’s friends. The two men and women fanned out in a protective circle around the earl. Each one now held a weapon and a fierce expression.
I felt weak with terror and had no time to understand what was happening. Then I heard the pounding of galloping horses, and we all pivoted toward the sound. All I could make out was the shape of two riders barreling forward. Their clothing and faces were in deep shadow, creating a menacing sight. With no thought but to flee, I jammed my toy into my captor’s face.
She screeched and released me. Lord Somerton captured her wrists, giving me a chance to stumble away. And that’s when the battle began.
“Giles, up!” Papa yelled at me, reining in hard.
Whirling around, I saw Papa on a huge black horse, coming right at me. Terror and delight kept me rooted in place.
Someone from behind lifted me in the air and tossed me onto the back of his saddle.
“Hold on.”
I wrapped my arms tight around Papa’s waist and pressed my face into his back. My throat clenched together so hard I could barely breathe. My nose stung from holding back the tears. Sending up a silent prayer, I thanked God for giving me back my papa.
LATYMER
5:54 a.m.
I knew I would not make it. The bullet in my shoulder had done far more than rip through flesh and muscle. My body was dying, one breath at a time. Shivers rippled along my cold, clammy skin and the entire left side of my torso pulsated with excruciating pain. I remained conscious by a slim, frayed thread. But I had to hold on—for just a little longer. If I did nothing else in this life, I had to get Giles to the office near the docks. I had to.
At this moment, the only thing keeping me seated on my horse was my son’s small arms clutched around my middle, a constant reminder to push on, despite the agony of living. After all he’d been through, Giles still trusted me, his father, to keep him safe. And, God help me, I would do so with my last breath.
I covered my son’s clasped hands, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “Almost there.” I had so many damned regrets weighing on me, but Giles was not among them. With every innocent smile, my son revealed what was truly important in life—family, love, happiness. I’d had all that for a time—until I decided to take the shortest route to achieving my goals. Had I gone about securing my family’s future the right way, we would all still be together. I choked down another regret, one more to add to an ever-increasing list.
We were close to the docks now. Close enough for my mind-numbing fear to ease its death grip. I guided our horse toward the two-story, dark, gray-stone building. “Hop down, son.”
Giles slid off the horse, using my injured arm to steady himself. Black spots formed before my eyes, and I clamped my teeth shut, weathering the torment as quietly as I could. Once Giles’s feet hit the ground, I took a moment to swipe my fevered brow and regain my breath. Then I slowly lowered myself down.
My world spun, and agony heaved through me in great, unrelenting waves. I went down hard and landed on one knee with such force that the bones scraped together.
“Papa!”
Blindly, I reached for my son and found his fragile yet firm weight an immeasurable comfort. “Tie off the horse.”
“But, Papa—”
“Do it. Before he runs off. Grab the saddlebag.”
I shook my head to clear my vision and slowly, clumsily stumbled to the office door. Glancing back, I waited for Giles and noted the horse’s gleaming black
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