Secrets of the Heart

by Candace Camp

  Rachel frowned. “Yes, I can see how it would be possible for him to be the mastermind, but that doesn’t mean that he is. I mean, a number of those things apply to you, as well.”

  Her response startled a laugh from Overhill. “A direct hit, Rachel!”

  Michael smiled. “I know—although I think we can absolve me from having hired someone to kill me. The most damning thing is the knowledge the man obviously has about Anthony.”

  “But even that is only a possibility. You don’t know that Lilith told him. You have no proof,” Rachel insisted.

  “Quite right,” Perry agreed. “You can scarcely go about accusing the fellow.”

  “I know. That is why I have decided to set a trap for him.”

  “A trap!” Rachel narrowed her eyes. “What kind of trap? Is that why you want Perry to take me somewhere, to get me out of the way so that you can do something dangerous?”

  “I will feel much better knowing that you are somewhere safe, yes,” Michael told her. “There is nothing wrong in that.”

  “Only the fact that it means that where you are will not be safe,” Rachel retorted. “Michael, what are you planning?”

  “It is simple, really. I shall tell Sir Robert that I plan to meet Anthony tonight at a certain place and time. If he is the man behind all this, I believe that he will get there before then and try to kill me so that he may lay the blame on Anthony.”

  “Michael!” Rachel exclaimed, horrified. “Have you run mad? You are going to provide him with yourself as a target just so that you can prove that he is the man behind these crimes?”

  “You might have a little faith in me, my dear,” Michael returned mildly. “I will get there earlier than Sir Robert does, and then when he arrives and hides, preparing to shoot me, I will have the proof I need.”

  “You are mad,” Rachel said.

  “She’s right,” Overhill agreed. “You cannot go there alone.”

  “He won’t be, because I am going with him,” Rachel put in.

  Both men swung on her, protesting.

  “No! Rachel…” Perry looked horrified. “That would just put both of you in danger.”

  “Absolutely not.” Michael crossed his arms and looked forbidding.

  “Well, I cannot go to the opera while you are out trying to get yourself killed!”

  “Then stay at home. You and Perry could have an evening of cards, say.”

  “You need someone with you. Someone to help you watch for Sir Robert. To guard your back. You cannot see everywhere at once. He could sneak up on you.”

  “I can take care of it. I promise you, I will be fine.”

  “You need a witness!” Rachel cried, pleased at having come up with another argument. “Someone to corroborate that Sir Robert came there to ambush you.”

  Michael raised an eyebrow. “You think that my word would not be good enough?”

  “Don’t try to throw me off course. You know I’m right. Of course you are trustworthy—everyone knows that. But Sir Robert is also a man of breeding and apparent honor. He was a hero alongside you in the war. You have a difficult case to prove. It would help greatly if you had another witness to his perfidy,” Rachel argued reasonably. “Besides, if there are two people there, he will be less likely to shoot you. He cannot go about leaving dead bodies strewn all over the place.”

  “If he is cornered, I’m not sure what he is capable of doing. I cannot risk it, Rachel. Not you.”

  “You are risking yourself!”

  “That is different. I have had some experience in these matters. I will have my pistols with me, and Sir Robert is well aware of my accuracy with them. You, on the other hand, would not only be vulnerable, you would make me vulnerable. I would have to worry about you. I could not simply concentrate on the matter at hand. Your presence would distract me, and that could prove fatal. Besides, he would know he had only to threaten you and I would be rendered harmless. If I had a pistol on him, he would know that even if he shot me, he would die, too, whereas if you were there, he would need only to point his gun at you and I would have to give up. You would endanger me, not help me.”

  Rachel scowled. She would have liked to argue, but she knew that he was right.

  “I will go with you,” Perry announced. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m not completely useless, you know. I may not be the marksman you are, but I have clipped a few wafers at Manton’s. I can guard your back. And Rachel is right—two people’s testimony would carry more weight.”

  “Yes, take Perry with you,” Rachel agreed. She did not really think that Perry Overhill would be adequate protection—she wished desperately that Richard or Devin were there—but having him with Michael would be better than Michael’s facing an enemy alone.

  “No. I need Perry to stay with you,” Michael said. “I have to be sure that you are safe.”

  “I will be at home, with servants all around,” Rachel pointed out. “And the man you suspect will be with you. What could happen to me? I will be perfectly safe. You need Perry with you much more than I need him.”

  “She is right,” Perry added. “Be sensible. I am sure—if Blount is your man—that he does not want to hurt you. He simply wants you out of the way. All harming Rachel would do is wound you and make you even more determined to capture him. It would be foolish in the extreme of him.”

  Michael hesitated, obviously swayed by the arguments. Finally he sighed and said, “All right. But only—” he fixed Rachel with a serious look “—if you stay at home, locked in and with the servants around.”

  Rachel rolled her eyes. “I promise. But I do wish that you would hold off on this, Michael. We could write to Dev and Richard, and they would come to help immediately. I know they would.”

  “No. I need to do this now. And I do not need an army. Perry will do fine.”

  So it was that several hours later Rachel settled down to spend an evening at home. Michael, thrusting a brace of pistols into the pockets of his jacket and looking grim, gave her a goodbye kiss and turned to go pick up Perry at his home.

  “Michael, wait,” Rachel said, catching hold of his sleeve. “I don’t think this is a good idea. I cannot imagine why I thought Perry would be any protection. Please, wait. I will write to Richard this very evening.”

  Her stomach had been in knots ever since their conversation that afternoon, and now, with the moment actually upon them, she did not think she could bear for Michael to leave. What if he was taken from her now, when she had finally realized that she loved him?

  “No. I cannot wait. Besides, until I catch our villain, I will still be in danger of his killing me.”

  “This is just so awful. I don’t know what I would do if anything happened to you.”

  Michael kissed Rachel on the cheek, saying, “I am glad that you are concerned for me. You have no idea how much.” He smiled down into her eyes. “But there is no need for you to worry. I promise you. This will soon be over, and I will be back here.”

  Rachel managed a smile for him and kept it in place until Michael was out the door. Then she dropped down into a chair and put her head in her hands. She did not know how she would get through the next few hours. There was nothing she could think of that would take her mind off Michael and what was about to happen. Reading was out of the question, and she was certain that if she started work on any of the delicate clothes for Miranda’s coming baby, she would just have to rip out all the stitches the next day.

  “My lady.” Rachel looked up in surprise to see one of the footmen standing at the door. “A Mrs. Neeley is here to see you.”

  “Lilith?” Rachel stared at him. Her anxiety flared up into full-blown fear. It was not like Lilith to come calling on her; she was always concerned about not presuming in any way on her relationship with Michael. Rachel feared that only some sort of bad news would have brought her here.

  “Show her in,” Rachel said, rising to her feet. She crossed the room, meeting Lilith as she entered the doorway. “Lilith! Is som
ething wrong?”

  Lilith looked somewhat taken aback. “No. I mean…should there be?”

  Hastily Lilith handed her cloak to the footman, and both women waited until he had left the room.

  “I—I was just surprised to see you,” Rachel said. She could not tell Lilith what Michael was doing this evening. If Michael was right in his suspicions, Lilith would find out about her lover soon enough. And if Michael was wrong, the fact that he had been suspicious might put a strain on the siblings’ relationship.

  “I knew I should not have come,” Lilith said. “I told Robert it was not appropriate, but he was so insistent.”

  “Oh, no! Don’t think that,” Rachel said hastily. “You are always welcome in this house. You are Michael’s sister. I was merely surprised to see you. My, uh, nerves are a trifle unsettled this evening. Please, come in. Sit down.”

  Rachel rang for a servant and requested tea, then turned back to Lilith. She smiled as she sat down beside the other woman on the couch and said, “Sir Robert wanted you to come here?”

  “Yes. I cannot imagine why, really,” Lilith said, looking a little worried. “I asked him, and he would say only that he thought you were feeling rather lonely and would welcome a bit of company.”

  “That was very kind of him,” Rachel replied, her heart sinking. She could not think of any good reason why Sir Robert would suddenly decide to send Lilith over here. It must be that he wanted Lilith out of the house this evening—perhaps so she would not see him leave and ask where he was going? Or it might be that for some reason he wanted to make sure Rachel was occupied. Whatever the reason, it seemed suspicious that Sir Robert would choose this very evening to push Lilith into paying a call on Rachel.

  The tea was brought, and Rachel poured, trying to keep up a polite conversation when all the while inside she was racked with worry. It was difficult, and she could see Lilith frowning, wondering what was wrong.

  “I am sorry,” Rachel said. “I am afraid that I am a trifle distracted.”

  “Then I must ask you what you first said to me—what is wrong? Is there any way that I can help?”

  “How kind of you to ask, but, no, I do not think that you—or anyone—can help.”

  Lilith looked alarmed, and Rachel realized how dramatic her statement sounded. She began to flounder about, searching for an acceptable excuse for her distraction, when the same footman appeared at the door.

  “Mr. Birkshaw to see you, my lady.”

  CHAPTER 19

  “What?” Rachel stared at the footman. Who else was going to pop in on her? Tonight, of all nights! “Umm. Well, show Mr. Birkshaw in, Debney.”

  She turned toward Lilith, shrugging apologetically. “I am so sorry. I had no idea that he was coming.”

  Anthony strode into the room, looking distraught. “Rachel! Where is Lord Westhampton? I must see him. I have had another missive from—” He glanced around and saw Lilith for the first time and gave a little start of surprise. “Oh—I beg pardon. I did not realize that you had guests. I am most sorry.”

  “It’s all right. Mr. Birkshaw, I do not know if you are acquainted with Mrs. Neeley.”

  “No—yes, I mean, that is, I believe we have met on one or two occasions. How do you do, Mrs. Neeley?” Anthony looked thoroughly ill at ease. No doubt he was startled, Rachel thought with a burst of amusement, to find the owner of a gambling establishment in Rachel’s drawing room.

  “I am fine, thank you, Mr. Birkshaw.” The twinkle in Lilith’s eyes told Rachel that she was well aware of the comic undertones of the scene.

  “I—I must speak to Lord Westhampton,” Anthony said, starting over again.

  “Yes, you said you received a message from—I assume from the man who has sent you the other messages?”

  “Just so.” Anthony looked relieved that Rachel understood and sent a cautious glance Lilith’s way.

  “You may speak in front of Mrs. Neeley,” Rachel said. She sincerely hoped that whatever he had to say would not be about Sir Robert. “What sort of message did you receive?”

  “An odd one. Well, they always are, aren’t they?” He shrugged. “It said that I was to go to a certain address at nine o’clock. It—I believe it is somewhere near the docks.”

  “What?” Rachel sat up straighter. The warehouse where Michael and Perry were going was near the docks. “What is the address exactly?”

  “Water Street at Conover,” he said, frowning. “Something of a seedy area at this time of night, I’d say.”

  Rachel was glad she was sitting down. That was the address of the warehouse where Michael had told Sir Robert that he was to meet Anthony, but the time was an hour later than what Michael had said. It seemed clear proof that Sir Robert was the man who had been sending the messages to Anthony, which would mean, by what Rachel and Michael had surmised, that he really was the mastermind behind the whole criminal scheme.

  “I don’t know what to do—whether I should go or not. What does he want of me? What does it mean?”

  “I am not sure what it means, exactly,” Rachel replied. “But I think you probably should not go. It might interfere with a trap that Michael has laid for…someone.”

  “A trap!” Anthony goggled at her. “You mean he has set a trap for…for this man?”

  “Yes.” Rachel stopped. How could she explain the scheme without implicating Sir Robert? She glanced over at Lilith, who was frowning.

  “I don’t understand,” Lilith said. “I thought Robert said that Michael was meeting Mr. Birkshaw tonight. That that was why you would be here alone and might welcome company.”

  “What?” Anthony looked even more confused. “But I had no plans to meet Lord Westhampton. Was I supposed to?”

  “No. No. That was merely part of, um, this trap.” Rachel shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

  “But why would he say—” Lilith began, then stopped abruptly. Rachel looked over at her. Lilith was staring at her, shaking her head. “No,” Lilith said in a way that made the word almost more a prayer than a statement. “No. You can’t be saying that Michael set a trap for Robert.”

  Rachel cast about frantically for something to say, but her silence was answer enough for Lilith.

  “That is it, isn’t it?” she cried. “You are saying that Michael lied to Robert. That he is trying to trap him! Why?”

  “I’m so sorry,” Rachel said. “Please, Lilith, believe me, Michael doesn’t want to believe it.”

  “Believe what?” Lilith said, her voice rising emotionally. “What is he trying to trap him into? What does he think Robert has done?”

  “He doesn’t know for sure,” Rachel said quickly. “He doesn’t want to believe Sir Robert has done anything wrong, but there was the possibility…. He had to find out.”

  “Find out what?”

  “He thinks that Sir Robert might be—well, behind some crimes Michael has been investigating.”

  “What he has been working on the past weeks?”

  Rachel nodded. “And, if it is Sir Robert, then he may also want to get Michael out of the way.”

  “Out of the—You mean kill him?” Lilith jumped to her feet, eyes flashing and her cheeks flushed. “That is absurd! Rob would never hurt Michael. He is like a brother to him. You might as well say that I would hurt him or the duke or your own brother!”

  “Lilith, please.” Rachel went to her, taking Lilith’s hands. “Michael is by no means certain. That is why he—”

  “Set a trap for him?” Lilith burst out. “As if he were an animal. A common criminal. Robert should not have to pass a test for Michael! He has proven his loyalty and friendship time and time again.”

  “I know. Michael does not want to believe it. Neither do I. I was sure that tonight would prove that Michael was wrong, and we would be happy about that. But now, this letter to Anthony…”

  Lilith whirled to face Anthony. “This letter—do you have it?”

  Anthony brightened. “Yes, I saved this one. I was sure Michael would wan
t to see it.”

  “Show it to me,” Lilith demanded, going toward him. “I can tell you whether the handwriting is Sir Robert’s.”

  Anthony glanced uncertainly at Rachel. She nodded.

  “Yes. Go ahead, Anthony. Let her see.”

  He reached inside his coat and drew out a folded sheet of paper, which he extended to Lilith. She snatched it from his fingers and began to read.

  “It is not his handwriting!” Lilith looked up, triumph glowing on her face. “This was not written by Robert.”

  “Are you sure? He could have tried to change his hand, make it unrecognizable.” Rachel crossed the room and took the letter from Lilith’s fingers. She looked down at it, ready to point out an attempt to disguise his handwriting in block letters or a messy script.

  She froze, staring at the page in front of her, all the blood draining out of her face. “My God!” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I know this hand.”

  * * *

  The warehouse was dark and deserted, as Michael had known it would be. It was owned by an importer for whom Michael had found a thief who was raiding his goods. The man had been happy to lend Michael the use of the place for the evening and had given him a key to the smaller side door, which led into the warehouse through the offices.

  Michael unlocked the door and led Perry past the office and into the vast cavern of the warehouse. It was dark inside, the only windows high up in the walls and admitting very little of the moonlight outside. The light of Michael’s lantern, shielded on one side, lit up only a small semicircle of the room, enough to reveal vague humps of the merchandise stored there—crates, sacks and stacks of bales—an eerie sight in the dim light.