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struggled to keep up with the long-legged
strides of his father. Philippe picked him up in his arms and held
him tight to quicken his pace. His tiny legs dangled from
Philippe’s arms and bobbed back and forth with each step. The boy
clung tightly to his neck.
    Philippe raised one arm and hailed a hansom cab to
take them home. He climbed inside, settled back in the seat and
held Robert in his lap. The whip cracked, and Philippe glanced over
his shoulder out the rear window toward the gated exit. He let out
a sigh of relief when no one pursued.
    As he held the boy close, his thoughts grew rampant
with questions and fear. Why now, after all these years, had
their paths crossed?
    He glanced down at Robert once more, overcome by a
sense of protectiveness for his wellbeing. Philippe had always
wanted to be a father. The liberation of Suzette, pregnant with
another man’s child, seemed to be of little consequence to him five
years ago. He loved her. He wanted a family. Nothing could have
made him happier than to be a father, and even more so since a
newborn child had recently arrived from their union.
    Philippe hoped Duke Holland didn’t suspect the boy’s
identity, but couldn’t convince himself that danger did not exist.
Though Robert said nothing, Philippe knew the man must have
entertained questions. The lad bore a spitting image of his
biological father. Certainly, he saw his likeness—blond hair, blue
eyes, fair complexion, and the same square jaw.
    Today had upset the apple cart of his idyllic
existence. As the cab bounced toward its destination, he agonized
over telling Suzette. Everything in his married life up until that
moment had been perfect.
    Minutes passed while Philippe fumed over his
encounter. Finally, he collected his thoughts. The horse trotted
onto the stone drive, which elicited delight in his modest estate.
He had done well, even though no title of nobility attached to his
name. Philippe’s measure of success only recently began to decline
with difficult trials and a turn of bad luck.
    His half interest in the shipping business, which he
had purchased before he married Suzette, had proven to be a wise
investment. He possessed a home comfortably staffed with a cook,
two maids, and a governess.
    When the cab slowed, Philippe couldn’t shake a sense
of unwelcome change in the future. The driver pulled back the reins
on the horse until they came to a complete stop. Philippe didn’t
wait for him to open the door. He flung it wide, pulled Robert into
his arms, paid the fare, and headed for the front stoop.
    Once inside, the maid greeted his arrival. Philippe
set Robert down in the foyer.
    “Monsieur, you look a fright! Is everything all
right?” His maid creased her brow in a worried fashion over his
obvious frantic state.
    Philippe fidgeted with his gloves and tore them off
his hands in nervous frustration. “Yes, yes,” he mumbled. “Just in
a hurry.”
    He glanced down at Robert and noted his worried gaze
too. Clearly, he sensed something odd in his animated behavior.
Philippe took a deep breath to calm his jitters and knelt down in
front of the boy.
    “Run along now and go play in your room for a while,
Robert.” The lad clutched his father around his neck and gave him a
tight hug. Philippe smiled over the gesture and with a small pat on
the behind gave him a friendly scoot.
    He watched Robert run up the stairs to his room, with
the knowledge that he had stolen something that belonged to another
man. A pang of misgiving over the wisdom of hiding the child’s
existence made him shuddered. His gut churned as the worry of his
deception loomed like a mountain before him. The strong, determined
man that Philippe Moreau had evolved into a few years ago, suddenly
felt weak and vulnerable.
    He turned to his maid. “Where is my wife?”
    “In the parlor, Monsieur.”
    Robert handed his gloves and hat over to her, and
then walked down the hallway to the right and entered a small
parlor ablaze with the