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"Isabella isn’t aware of certain facts Neither are you"

"Yes, Your Grace"

"Trust me when I say Ian must be kept away fro, the woman’s round, pretty face and dark curls on top of her head She looked innocent and harmless, but Hart knew better than anyone how much looks could deceive This was the fifth time a Parisian newspaper had chosen to print such a tidbit about Ian and this Mrs Ackerley "Whatever her ood"

"No, Your Grace"

"Have a packed valise standing by for me at all times, Wilfred I want to be able to leave at a moment’s notice" "Of course, Your Grace Shall I dispose of the newspaper?"

"Not yet" Hart put his hand on it "Not yet" Wilfred bowed and left hi the way Ian was half turned to look at Mrs Ackerley An artist’s interpretation, yes, but it likely wasn’t far off the mark Mrs Ackerley must know Ian’s history by now, his eccentricities, his headaches, his nightmares The latter depended on whether she’d yet wormed her way into his bed Hart clenched his fists and rested them on the newspaper Ian wasn’t even supposed to be in Paris Ian was to stay in London, returning to Scotland when Hart finished his business on the Continent There had been noMac or Isabella in Paris

"I don’t knoho you are," Hart said, tracing the outline of the laughing Mrs Ackerley "But you have taken one step too far"

Hart slowly crued strips

In the week between Ian’s interesting carriage ride with Beth and his next planned encounter with her, he saw nothing of Inspector Fellows He had Curry watch out for the man, but Curry couldn’t find him either " ‘E must ‘ave run off ‘os"

Ian didn’t think so Inspector Felloas canny and smart, and he wouldn’t run because Ian threatened him If he’d returned to London in truth, it would be for a very good reason Ian wished he knehat theIsabella asked Ian to accoh another summer storoing "It’s a den of iniquity, darling," Isabella said to Beth as the three of thee of Montmartre "You’ll love it" Ian had been here before with Mac, but entering the house waswith Beth on his arht, rosettes at her boso she wore shiht in the crook of his arlad Isabella had been wise enough to ask Ian to escort them, because he’d be damned if he’d let Beth into this place alone "Den of iniquity?" Beth asked, peering around the di you on"