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looked at the smal figure leading
    them out of the al ey and suddenly realized that one of his rescuers was a woman. This has to be some delusion brought on by too much drink , he
    thought.
    When he was settled on a plush carriage seat, he looked across at his coachman. Danny’s head was bloody but his chest rose and fel evenly
    proving that he stil lived. The smal woman climbed into the carriage and knelt on the floor between the seats, placing a hand on him and the other on
    Danny to hold them steady as the carriage began to move.
    “Who are you?” he asked, struggling to remain conscious and wondering why he even bothered.
    “Hold your questions for now, m’lord,” she replied. “Best they wait until we can sew you up and some of that foul brew you wal owed in tonight is
    cleared out of your head and bel y.”
    His rescuer obviously had little respect for his consequence, Julian thought as he final y gave in to the blackness that had been pul ing at him.

    Chloe sat in a chair by the bed and sipped her coffee as she studied the earl of Colinsmoor. He smel ed better now that he had been cleaned up
    but his elegant features held signs of the deep dissipation he had sunk himself in for the last year. She had been disappointed in him and a little
    disgusted when he had begun to wal ow in drink and whores, but Leopold had told her that men tended to do such things when they had suffered a
    betrayal at a woman’s hands. Chloe supposed that if her heart had been shattered so brutal y, she too might have done something foolish. Yet, rutting like
    a goat and drinking oneself blind seemed a little excessive.
    Even so, she had to wonder if the earl was lacking in wits. Three times before this he had nearly been kil ed, yet he had continued to do things that
    left him vulnerable, just as he had done two nights ago. Did he think he was simply a very unlucky man? She had hoped he knew he was marked for death
    and at least had some idea of the who and the why. Chloe did not look forward to trying to get the man to heed her warnings, but Leopold felt they could
    no longer just keep watch over the man, that it was time to act.
    For little Anthony’s sake she had agreed. The boy saw her and Leo as his family. The longer that was al owed to continue, the harder it would be to
    reunite him with his father. Her heart would break when that happened, but she was determined to see that Anthony did not suffer unduly. The boy also
    needed his father alive to help him claim his heritage and hold fast to it. Between the earl’s increasingly dissipated ways and his mother’s greed, Anthony would not have much heritage left to claim unless this game was ended very soon. That was unacceptable to her. Anthony was innocent in al of this and
    did not deserve to suffer for the fol ies of his parents.
    She smiled at her cousin Leopold when he ambled into the room. Leopold never seemed to move fast, appeared permanently languid in his every
    action, but it suited his tal , almost lanky, body. Those who did not know him wel thought him an amiable but useless fel ow living off the wealth of his
    forefathers. Appearances could be deceptive, however. Leopold had been indefatigable in his surveil ance of the Kenwoods, had gathered up reams of
    information, had assembled a large group of associates who were al dedicated to keeping the earl alive and getting proof of who was trying to kil him,
    and was himself responsible for saving the man’s life three times. England also benefited from dear Leopold’s many skil s, for he was one of their most
    dedicated and successful agents. Chloe wondered at times if there was something about the earl’s enemies that made Leopold think they might be a
    threat to England as wel , but she never asked. Leopold held fast to the country’s secrets.
    “He wil live,” Leopold said after careful y examining Lord Kenwood’s wounds.
    “Again. The man has more lives than a cat,” Chloe drawled.
    “His enemies are