by Candace Camp
“I say, Michael, couldn’t you have found a more propitious place for a meeting?” Perry whispered behind him.
“It’s good for my purposes,” Michael replied. “Places to hide and only one obvious entrance.”
He turned first right, then left, and made his way around a mound of huge sacks, smelling redolently of coffee. He peered around the stack, and Perry could see that he had a direct view of the door through which any visitor would enter.
“Well,” Perry said, his voice still hushed and nervous, “I guess all we have to do now is wait for Blount to arrive.”
“Yes.” Michael’s voice was tinged with sadness. “I can only hope that he will not come. It is a hard thing, to find that a long-trusted friend is really a thief and a murderer. It would be far better if this whole thing turned out to be a fruitless endeavor.”
“Oh, I don’t think it will be,” Perry said, no longer whispering.
Michael turned around to look at his friend. Perry stood facing him, a pistol in his hand, pointed directly at Michael.
* * *
“We must go!” Rachel cried, turning to Anthony. “Michael is in grave danger. We have to go!”
“Go where? I don’t understand.”
“To this address. This warehouse.”
She ran out of the room, leaving Anthony gawking after her. Lilith, quicker of mind, was right on her heels.
“Wait!” Anthony started after them. “Rachel! What is going on?”
“Michael is in terrible danger,” Rachel explained, though she did not pause in her headlong rush out the front door. “We need a hansom.”
“But—”
As he spluttered, Lilith was already waving her arm frantically at a hansom cab down the street. The three of them piled in, Anthony still asking questions.
“Whose handwriting is this? Why is Michael in danger?”
“It belongs to Perry Overhill.”
“Overhill! Are you sure? It can’t be him. I know the chap. Well, I haven’t seen much of him for years, but I—he—” He looked faintly embarrassed. “He was a friend to me when…during that rough time after you became engaged to Lord Westhampton.”
Rachel looked at him sharply. “Perry? Perry is a friend of yours?”
“He was. He was in love with you, too, you know. We commiserated with each other over our broken hearts. He knew he didn’t stand a chance with you, of course. He was aware that you loved me.”
Lilith, sitting beside Rachel, stared at him, astonished. She turned to Rachel, her face full of questions.
“Yes,” Rachel said quickly, “I once fancied myself in love with Mr. Birkshaw. It was many years ago, before I married Michael.”
“It was Overhill who encouraged me to not give up on you,” Anthony went on.”
“What do you mean, not give up on me?” Rachel asked, suspicion tinging her voice. “Are you saying that Perry encouraged your coming up to Westhampton and asking me to run—”
Anthony nodded, looking a little shamefaced. “He told me that he was sure you still loved me, that you would want to escape your forced marriage…. I guess neither he nor I thought about the consequences.”
“I have a feeling Perry thought about them,” Rachel said dryly.
“Who is this Perry?” Lilith asked.
“He is a friend of ours—or so Michael and I thought. But that was his handwriting on that note. I have seen it many times on cards he sent with flowers or a gift. Oh, God, I’ve been such a fool! I never realized that it was true! I always thought he was exaggerating his feelings for me, putting on a show of being a romantic. I didn’t take him seriously. No one did.”
“But where are we going?” Lilith asked. “Why is Michael in danger?”
“Because when he set up the trap for Sir Robert, he took Perry with him!”
* * *
Michael looked from the pistol leveled at his chest up to his friend’s face. “So,” he said slowly, “it is you who was behind the crimes.”
A smile quirked up one corner of Overhill’s mouth. “Yes,” he replied, his voice changed from its usual tone, harder and more sarcastic now, sure of himself. “It was I—poor foolish, bumbling Perry. Rather a good disguise, don’t you think? No one would ever suspect such a fool to be the mastermind of such a scheme.”
“Actually, I had assumed you were too honest and good a man,” Michael replied. “Obviously I have been sadly mistaken about you all this time.”
“Rather.” Perry smirked. His demeanor had changed. He stood straighter, holding the gun easily, naturally, as if it were something he was accustomed to doing. “You were almost as easy to play as that idiot Birkshaw. Most people are, I find—a few threats, a bribe here and there. And the rest is pretense. My scheme has been amazingly easy to run.”
“But why? Why did you start this?”
“Money, of course. I did not inherit a vast estate as you did,” Perry sneered. “My father was not a wealthy man, and even with what my grandfather left me, I was fast running out of money. I have rather expensive tastes, you see. And women like Leona cost a pretty penny to keep happy.”
“Leona Vesey! You were one of her lovers?”
“You find that difficult to believe? I realize I hardly look the part of a ladies’ man. God knows, Rachel never saw me as such. But women like Leona are easier to convince—I find that diamonds usually do the trick.” Perry’s eyes were cold and remote. Michael realized looking at him, that he had never known the real man at all. Perry had worn a disguise, a mask of personality, the entire time.
“Of course. Leona. So you no doubt put her up to telling Rachel that Lilith was my mistress,” Michael ventured.
Overhill chuckled. “Yes. It wasn’t difficult to persuade her to do Rachel and you a bad turn.”
“But why?” Michael asked, his tone that of mild puzzlement. “If you were planning to kill me anyway, why did it matter that Rachel thought me a philanderer?”
“Well, dear fellow, it is preferable if a widow isn’t overly grieving her husband’s death,” Perry explained. “Much easier to give her comfort.”
The look on his face made Michael want to shove the man’s teeth down his throat, but he forced himself to remain calm, and said merely, “And it bothered you not at all that you were causing pain to the woman you profess to love?”
Perry shrugged. “Pain passes.”
“Hardly actions motivated by what I would call love,” Michael shot back. “More obsession than any real feeling.”
“Call it what you like, dear fellow,” Perry retorted, looking smug. “Your scorn doesn’t bother me. You are still the fool who has been caught in his own trap.”
“Not precisely.” A male voice spoke out of the darkness to the side of them.
Startled, Perry glanced over to the right as a dark figure stepped out of the shadows and walked to the edge of their lantern light. It was Sir Robert Blount, and he held a gun leveled at Overhill.
“Leaving it a bit late, aren’t you, Rob?” Michael asked lightly.
“We were interested in hearing the story,” Sir Robert replied.
“Aye. That we were.” Cooper stepped out of the shadows a few feet down from Blount. The Bow Street Runner also carried a pistol—indeed, one in each hand. “I warrant the magistrate will be even more interested in hearing it.”
Realization swept over Perry that it was he who had been tricked, and with a cry of rage, he fired.
* * *
Rachel and the others stepped down from the hansom. As Anthony paid the driver, Rachel and Lilith hurried toward the door of the warehouse. Just before they reached it, a shot rang out, followed by two more. With a scream of anguish, Rachel ran into the building, Lilith and Anthony following her.
She ran past the offices toward the glow of the lantern inside the cavernous warehouse. When she reached the scene, she stopped short. Sir Robert Blount and Mr. Cooper, pistols in hand, were hurrying over to where two bodies lay on the floor. One was Perry. The other w
as Michael.
Pain shot through Rachel, rooting her to the floor. She could not breathe. All she could think was that her life was over. Just when she had at last found happiness, everything had fallen apart.
Then Michael sat up, one hand going to his head. “Bloody hell! I hit my head on that crate as I went down.”
Rachel went limp with relief. Her heart began to beat again.
Blount reached down and hooked a hand around Michael’s arm and helped him to his feet.
“Michael!” At last Rachel’s feet came unstuck, and she ran across the room to throw her arms around him.
“Rachel!” Startled, Michael folded his arms around her automatically. “What are you doing here?”
“Are you all right? Were you hurt?” she asked, not answering his question. She stepped back to look him over for wounds. Tears swam in her eyes, and she was breathing in hasty jerks.
Michael smiled. “No. He missed me. I’m fine. I think it is Perry who got shot.” He turned toward where Perry Overhill lay, Cooper squatting down beside him. “How is he?”
“Blount hit him. I think I went wide of the mark,” Cooper said, ripping off Overhill’s cravat and pressing it against the man’s shoulder. “He’s still alive, though. I’ll get him to a doctor.”
“Good.” Michael turned his attention back to Rachel. “Now, why are you here? If you had come any sooner, you might have been shot!”
His gaze went beyond Rachel to where Anthony and Lilith stood. “You, too?” he asked in astonishment.
Sir Robert turned, too, and saw Lilith. “What the devil!” He went over to her, curling his arm around his shoulder. “What are you doing here!”
“We came to rescue you,” Rachel said. “We realized that the real mastermind behind the crimes was Perry, and I thought you were alone here with him. I was afraid we would be too late.” She stepped back, crossing her arms, and frowned at Michael. “Obviously we were not needed.”
“Yes,” Lilith put in tartly. “Which we would have known if anyone had bothered to tell us the truth.”
Michael and Sir Robert cast a glance at each other.
“I told you,” Michael murmured.
“I think I shall go find a hansom for Cooper to take Overhill in,” Sir Robert announced quickly.
“Coward,” Lilith told him as he walked past, but the smile on her lips took any sting out of her words.
The men helped carry the wounded Perry out to the cab, and Anthony, incensed by the way Perry had used him over the years, said to Cooper, “I will go with you, just to make sure he doesn’t give you any more problems.” He cast a grim look at Perry, adding, “You have played me for the fool for years. I’ll be glad to see the jail doors lock on you.”
Perry, conscious now, one hand clutching the bloody bandage on his shoulder, did not look as if he would be capable of putting up much resistance.
The others took another cab home to Michael and Rachel’s house, where they had a late supper and went over what had occurred that evening.
Rachel and Lilith related Anthony’s visit to Michael and Sir Robert and described how they had realized that Perry was the real criminal and had gone running to the warehouse to save Michael from Overhill.
“And then to find out that you had it taken care of—that you had planned it all!” Rachel exclaimed, with mock irritation. “How did you know it was Perry? You were so convincing when you explained why it must be Sir Robert.”
“He has always been good at casting blame on me,” Blount commented.
“Well, it was true that I realized that for the criminal to have employed Anthony as he did, he must be someone who knew about me and my past history with Anthony. But I never thought that it was Rob,” Michael admitted. “He and I had been through too much together. I knew him too well. So I turned to the others who might know. I never told Perry. I didn’t think he knew about that night that Anthony convinced you to elope with him—until just now, when you told me that it was he who encouraged Anthony to do so. But I knew that Perry had always been around during that period when we were engaged and that he was one of the many men who had been courting you, too. I thought it was possible that he could have guessed that Anthony loved you or that you had a preference for him as a suitor.”
“But there were many other people about at the time who could have guessed, as well,” Rachel pointed out.
“Yes. But I also knew that in the past Perry had had money difficulties, though it occurred to me that in the last few years I had not heard anything about it. However, the most telling thing was the fact that whoever was behind all this had forced Anthony into the situation. It was the piece of the puzzle that made no sense. Why involve Birkshaw? At first I thought it was to throw me off the real criminal’s trail, and no doubt it was, partially. But when I realized that the intent must be to kill me and blame it on Birkshaw, I knew that it was not just practical but personal, as well. Whoever was doing this wanted both me and Birkshaw out of the way. The connection between us, obviously, was Rachel. I knew then that the man behind this must be obsessed with Rachel. Why else try to get rid of Rachel’s husband and the man she had once loved, all in one neat stroke? I was sure he was afraid that if he killed me, leaving Rachel free, she might turn to her old love, Anthony, instead of to him. So Anthony had to be gotten rid of, as well. Therefore, it had to be a man who had loved Rachel since she made her debut. Perry was the obvious choice.”
“I never thought he was serious!” Rachel exclaimed. “I mean, he made all those extravagant compliments, but I thought he was mostly joking. That it was just an easier course than actually courting and marrying another woman. He always seemed so…ineffectual.”
“Yes, he seems to have fooled a number of people into thinking he was a bumbling, good-hearted chap,” Sir Robert added. “He was the sort of man that any man assumed was safe to escort his wife or sister.”
“But how did he know the criminal element, the people he used to commit the crimes?” Lilith asked.
“I don’t know. But obviously, none of us knew the real Perry. He has always been something of a gamester. I remember he used to frequent some gambling hells that I would not have gone into,” Michael commented. “Perhaps he first made his criminal contacts there.”
Rachel shook her head. “It is so hard to believe. I liked him.”
“We all did,” Michael agreed sadly. “The sorrow I felt was genuine. It was just the person I felt it for was not Rob.”
It was quite late by this time, and a short while later, Lilith and Sir Robert left. Rachel and Michael went upstairs, hand in hand.
“There is no need to wake your maid,” Michael said, smiling. “I shall act as your lady’s maid.”
He reached up and pulled the hairpins from Rachel’s hair, and it fell in a tumbling mass of curls to her shoulders. She picked up a brush and began to brush her hair out.
After a moment, she said in a quiet voice. “It is all my fault, isn’t it?”
“What? Perry’s going bad?” Michael asked, surprised. “No. Of course not. You had no control over that.”
“But he tried to kill you because of me.”
“No. He tried to kill me because he was wicked. You cannot help that you are a lovely, desirable woman.” He grinned, taking her hands in his. “No doubt there are dozens of men out there pining away for you. But only Perry saw killing a few of us as a way to win your heart.”
“But I made such a mess of things back then…when I first met you and Perry. Even now, you still don’t trust me.”
“What?” Michael took her chin in his hand and tilted it up so that she had to look up into his face. “What are you talking about? Of course I trust you.”
“You did not tell me the truth about Perry. You told me the same story about Sir Robert that you told Perry.”
“Not because I did not trust you!” Michael exclaimed. “Dear girl, you must not think that. I did not tell you because you are too honest, too trustworthy. I was afraid that
you would not be able to dissemble in front of Perry, that if I told you what I suspected him of, it would show in your face. And I could not make him suspicious. I knew that if I told both of you the same story, your concern for my safety would make the story all the more believable, and that then his devious mind would see it as a way to get me alone, kill me and blame it on someone else. He would know that Sir Robert was not the criminal, so he would not guess that Blount would really be there. I thought he would work it so that it looked as if Anthony was to blame, but I didn’t much worry about that, since Sir Robert, Cooper and I would already have caught Perry trying to kill me. It never occurred to me that if he sent Birkshaw to the scene, Birkshaw would come running to you with the note.”
He raised her hand to his lips and laid a gentle kiss in the center of her palm. “But it was not because I did not trust you. I trust you with all my heart.”
“How can you?” Rachel cried. “After what I did to you back then?” She pulled away from him in her distress, tears glittering in her eyes. “I betrayed your trust. You had to marry me to protect your name, but I know it killed your love for me. You cut me out of your life. You told me nothing about your real life—your sister, your work. And now—now I love you so. I want to have your children, to live a normal, happy life. But I am afraid that I will never be able to get back the love you had for me!”
“Rachel! No. No.” Michael reached out and grasped her shoulders. “You think I married you for the sake of my name? This is why I married you.” He pulled her to him and kissed her.
When finally he raised his head, he said, “That is why I married you. Because I loved you too much not to. I could have lived with the scandal. But I couldn’t have lived without you. I wanted you, and I was willing to do whatever it took. I knew that I was doing you a disservice, forcing you into a marriage you did not want. But I could not let you go. I could not bear the thought of living without you. I did not tell you about my work because I was afraid that you would not like it, that you would think it silly or dreadfully common of me. I—I was afraid to look foolish in your eyes. I love you. I always have.”