"Nevertheless, Miss MacKenzie," Perry said, "there's something you aren't telling me."
Mac braced herself and turned. "Oh?"
"You must be quite a remarkable woman to arouse such strong feelings in Liam. That he suspects any female capable of working against him is amazing, yet you made him believe it. You traveled with him and apparently held your own. How was that possible?"
What she needed now was sheer bravado. "Do you also think women are such ineffectual creatures, Mr. Sinclair?"
"To the contrary." He got to his feet, setting his hat behind him. "But I know Liam. I can think of only one situation that might account for your peculiar relationship, Miss MacKenzie. How long have you and Liam been lovers?"
* * *
IF SHE WAS startled by his frankness, she didn't show it.
Indeed, Perry doubted he would have been surprised by anything Miss MacKenzie did or said. He had learned long ago to be a swift judge of people, and his first glimpse of her told him just how unusual a woman she must be.
The girl was an oddity. She wore pants that molded her slender legs, an oversized shirt, and boots like a man from a mining camp. She was pretty in an unpolished way, but not exactly beautiful, and certainly no lady. Her dark hair was cropped short and uncurled. Her wide, dark eyes were those of an innocent, but her very presence here made such innocence impossible.
Perry had seldom seen Liam fraternizing with women of any sort, even on expedition, though he knew Liam was no celibate. Liam was always courteous with the ladies, in his rough way, but his deeper feelings for the gentler sex remained a mystery.
All that had changed, if what Perry suspected was true. For some reason this Miss MacKenzie, with her unlikely stories, had a profound effect on Liam. Perry had seen them together only for a few moments, but that had been enough. The girl aroused Liam's strong protective instincts—instincts he had heretofore focused almost entirely on Caroline.
Very promising, indeed.
"Well, Miss MacKenzie?" Perry prompted softly.
She sat down, her face a little paler than it had been a moment before. "Yes," she said. "We were lovers." There was that slight hitch in her voice, a hesitation that Perry suspected had little to do with any maidenly modesty.
"And yet he didn't entirely trust you," Perry mused. "You said you were not his prisoner. You came here voluntarily, did you not?"
"Yes."
"And was this because he offered to help you, or for some more personal reason?"
She looked up. Oh, yes, she understood him.
"I needed his help," she said. "But it became more than that. For both of us."
"And yet, lovers or not, he deceived you when he brought you here as a trap for me."
"He believed he had his reasons."
The stiffness of her words didn't disguise her emotions. Perry sat down again, studying her face. "You may be justifiably annoyed, Miss MacKenzie. But you still have… some affection for Liam."
Only the expression in her eyes confirmed his guess, but it was enough. "I see," he said. "And what does Liam intend now? He set a guard on your door. What are his plans for you?"
"I don't know," she admitted. "There's a lot about Liam that I don't understand yet. He told me very little about Caroline when we were together, but he did make his plans very clear. You accused Liam of not caring about her, and he accused you of being a fortune hunter." Her gaze held quiet challenge. "Maybe you can explain this relationship to me, Mr. Sinclair."
"It's simple enough. Miss Gresham is Liam's ward, and has been since her father's death. He gave Gresham an oath to protect and care for her."
"Did he promise to marry her as well?"
"I don't know." Perry stared down at his hands. "He is determined to shelter her from the world, even if he drives all the joy from her life and crushes her spirit."
"Because he wants to protect her from you?"
"It was he who introduced Caroline to me shortly after she returned from her European finishing school six months ago. But when I began to care for her, his attitude toward me changed. During this last expedition…"
"Are you a fortune hunter, Mr. Sinclair?"
He laughed at the bluntness of her question. "I am not. But I'm unlikely to convince Liam otherwise."
"But you're certain he doesn't love her."
"I have never been so sure of anything in my life."
"And you do."
"Yes. I know how terrible marriage is without love. I can't let that happen to Caroline, Miss MacKenzie."
"And how does Caroline feel? Does she love Liam?"
Perry deliberately unfolded his hands. "She has known him since childhood, years before her father died. Her habit of obedience to him is strong. She is too young, too naive to understand how Liam could destroy her chances of happiness."
"But she feels something for you."
"I believe she does. And she needs time to make the right decision. Time Liam doesn't intend to give her."
Miss MacKenzie stood and paced to the door and back again, gnawing her lower lip. "You came here hinting that we might assist one another, Mr. Sinclair. I know what you want, and maybe I can help you."
Perry rose to meet her. "The question is what you want, Miss MacKenzie, and what you'll do to get it."
"I want Liam."
"Why?"
"I… think I understand at least one thing about him," she said slowly. "I'm not the kind of woman who needs to be sheltered and protected, and Liam isn't the kind of man who can live that way."
"I see that you do know him, Miss MacKenzie. You must also be aware that he is very rich."
The girl did have pride. She glowered at him. "Are you accusing me of being a fortune hunter? Maybe you should give me the same benefit of the doubt I'm giving you."
"Ah. Then you love him."
The uneasy flicker of her eyes prepared him for prevarication, but in the end she surprised him yet again. "I also need time, Mr. Sinclair."
"And time is the crux of the matter, is it not?"
She gave him an odd look and shook her head, as if to clear it. "Liam said something about two weeks."
"Caroline's birthday. I believe Liam has deliberately been waiting to ask her to marry him until that day—the day when her fortune becomes her own."
"Isn't that a bit risky with another suitor in the wings?"
"It would seem so, wouldn't it? Why would he put it off, Miss MacKenzie? The possible answer to that question gives me hope that we have a fighting chance."
"Why didn't you simply ask Caroline to marry you before all this happened?"
"I have my reasons, but they are somewhat moot under the circumstances. Liam is interested in you, of that I have no doubt. How interested will be the measure of our success or failure."
They looked at each other in perfect understanding, and Perry wondered how it was that he felt he'd known Miss MacKenzie before—as if he'd always suspected her existence somewhere in the world.
The existence of a woman who would be Liam's match.
"Then all we need is a plan," Miss MacKenzie said. "Frankly, that's what I don't have. This isn't my… city."
"But it is mine," Perry said. "We must see to it that Liam doesn't dismiss you. You must remain in his sight, his consciousness. He must be compelled to admit he wants you, and not Caroline."
"That's a pretty big job," she said in a small voice.
"Losing your confidence already?" he chided.
"Come. You are clearly a woman of courage. If you fail in your conviction—"
Her chin jerked up. "I won't fail. I have more commitment to this than you can possibly understand."
More of Miss Mackenzie's mysteries, it seemed. But Perry was content to let those mysteries stand—for now.
"Very well," he said. "The matter seems simple enough. In order to be near Liam, you must be introduced to the social circle of which Caroline is a part." He looked Miss MacKenzie over, frowning thoughtfully. "If I'm not mistaken, you
have not spent a great deal of time in society, have you?"
"There isn't too much of that in the jungle," she said. "I have no illusions. I don't pretend to be the high-society type. In fact, I don't even own a dress. But I can learn to get around here, with your help."
Perry nodded. "I shall present you as my American cousin from some lost branch of the family. Backward missionary's daughter deprived of the benefits of society, thrown on the mercy of a distant relative, and only now making her debut. That ought to account for a few peculiarities of behavior, don't you think?"
"But how do you propose to get us near Caroline?" she asked. "Liam won't let you just resume your courtship."
"You may leave that to me."
"I guess I'll have to." She squared her shoulders. "All right. Let's do it."
"Then it seems we are allies, Miss MacKenzie. Shall we shake to seal our partnership?"
He waited, as was proper, for her to offer her hand first. "We might as well drop the formality," she said. "You can call me—" He would have sworn a grimace crossed her face. "Call me Rose."
Rose, indeed. A most unlikely name—and he suspected this Rose had thorns. "My friends call me Perry," he said.
"What next, Perry?" she asked, releasing his hand.
"I have a plan to set in motion, but I'll be in contact shortly." He reached into his waistcoat pocket for a card and went to the desk in search of a pen. "This is my address, should you need to reach me. Have you funds?"
"Not a dime."
He emptied his pockets of coins and laid several on the dressing table. "This should provide for any necessities for the time being."
She opened her mouth as if to ask for details and then thought better of it. "I hope you know what you're doing."
"Always, Rose. Have no fear of that."
He left her with a handful of reassurances and walked out the door feeling considerably better than when he'd first arrived in Liam's company.
Who would have thought it? The trap Liam had set had turned to Perry's advantage. An advantage Perry could not have imagined in his wildest dreams.
Liam had found himself a woman in the jungle. A woman utterly unlike Caroline. And therein lay the chance of victory.
Perry met Liam's guard in the hallway as he paused by the elevator. A few quiet words brought a nod and sly grin from the man, who found another excuse to leave his post.
The sky was growing dark when Perry emerged onto Market Street. He swung his cane as he walked the short distance to his boardinghouse, tipping his hat to the ladies he passed.
The ladies. Rose MacKenzie might not be one of them, but she had something most of them didn't have. Something an ordinary man might not appreciate.
As Liam did not appreciate Caroline.
Perry started up the stairs to his second-floor apartments, staring at the worn carpet runner under his feet. Strange how untroubled he felt, considering the day's startling events. The shock of Liam's abrupt return, followed by the guilt—an emotional weakness Perry thought had passed the Sinclairs by long ago. Guilt was a thoroughly useless burden.
But perhaps love had made him vulnerable. If so, it was the least price he would pay to save Caroline.
Friendship he had already sacrificed. Yet he recalled the good days Liam had invoked in the Palace Hotel room. Two men from vastly different backgrounds had fallen together in their search for something intangible: Liam, never satisfied with what he had, for a purpose beyond his accumulated wealth and hard-won success; Perry, aimless and jaded after too long in a business that leeched the life from anyone it touched, for some reason to live.
It had been Liam who'd made Perry feel again, rediscover the challenge in living itself. And Perry had forced Liam from his shell of isolation and hidden bitterness. They'd found common ground in jungle mud and desert sands, in ancient ruins and the thrill of discovery. Their partnership had taken them halfway around the world and back again. Danger had bound them as brothers.
Until Liam brought Perry back to San Francisco to meet his young ward. Caroline Gresham, fresh, vibrant, passionate.
And no more than a duty to Liam, a valuable object he'd sworn to protect, a child he would never recognize as the budding woman she was becoming. Just as he had not seen her today, when she'd tried so hard and with so little success to make Liam notice her.
But Perry saw what Liam did not. He found in Caroline the youth and careless joy so long missing from his life, a joy remarkable in a girl who'd known so little love of the kind she deserved.
Love. What a very odd thing it was. Perry paused to sift his pocket for the keys to his suite, remembering. He'd certainly never expected to discover that tender emotion so late in his checkered career. Love had been rare enough in his ancient, cold, patrician family.
But what had begun as mild flirtation with a young woman eager to hear his tales of adventure had blossomed into something far deeper. And it was Liam's doing. He'd given Perry an immeasurable gift, and now he obliged his friend to betray him. For Caroline's sake.
For she needed room to grow, to explore, to know what she wanted of life—all the freedoms Liam would never permit her.
Perry reached his door, shaking his head. Ah, Liam, you blind fool. Love was what Caroline needed, what she must have—the one thing her father's money could never provide.
God help him, Caroline believed that what she wanted was Liam's love—that he would love her as a woman. Value her for herself, not an oath fulfilled or some cardboard figurine of a perfect lady. She was too naive to see that was something Liam could never give.
Perry turned the key in the door and walked into his suite. He dropped his gloves on the sideboard in the front sitting room and tossed his hat behind them, nearly covering the photograph that he'd been meaning to put away.
The photograph. Taken in better days, four years ago: two men in the jungle, content in their freedom. The same photograph Rose inexplicably had in her possession.
No. Not the same. And the explanation hardly mattered now. Perry's attempts to make Liam see reason had failed, but he'd been given another chance. There would be no more room for sentiment. Or clemency.
Perry retrieved a glass and decanter from the sideboard and poured himself a drink, lifting it in a toast.
"To you, Rose MacKenzie, friend of my enemy. May you save Liam O'Shea before it's too late."
Chapter Thirteen
Build thee more stately mansions,
O my soul,
As the swift seasons roll!
Leave thy low-vaulted past!
—Oliver Wendell Holmes
HOME.
Liam paused on the flagstone walk just within the fancy ironwork gates and wondered why the word still rang so hollow.
Once it had meant something—a dream and memory to his mother: a prosperous farm in Ireland, security, hope. Then hope had died, and "home" had become a filthy tenement in a new land that didn't deserve to be called anything but Hell.
Liam was the only one left to keep his mother's dream. And now "home" was before him, a Queen Anne mansion equal to the city's best, rising in splendor amid a gated garden handsome enough to shelter and protect a bloom such as Caroline Gresham.
In that it would serve its purpose.
Liam walked to the door and gripped the highly polished brass doorknob, feeling the solidity of it under his palm. If it hadn't been for Chen's urgent message, he'd be with Caroline now, attempting to reverse the damage Perry had done during his absence. Caroline would be upset enough when he told her she wouldn't be seeing Perry before her birthday ball.
If Perry wasn't a murderer—and Liam had seen and heard enough to seriously doubt it—the Englishman had still betrayed him with his designs on Caroline.
As for Mac… Liam smiled crookedly. She was probably cursing a blue streak at this moment. Not that he could blame her. He'd used her as bait for a trap, and she'd come out of the affair smelling like a rose.
He'd judged her unfairly, photograph or no
photograph. Mad she might be, but she was not a traitress. He owed her for that misjudgment, and he intended to repay the debt.
Of course she could not stay in San Francisco. Liam had already given the matter careful consideration, and he knew where to send her. Somewhere she'd be safe, and could live her life as she wished. Once he made his offer, he knew she'd see the benefits of it. His ranch in Napa would suit her far better than the jungle.
In the meantime she was secure at the Palace—guarded, of course, because he knew how rash she could be. He couldn't have her running about the city, for her sake as well as his own.
Dealing with Mac would have to wait until morning. And there would be no seeing Caroline tonight, whatever the urgency. He'd spoken with the man Chen had mentioned in the message, and plans for the raid had already begun. Such opportunities had to be seized as they came. They waited on no man's convenience, least of all Liam O'Shea's.
At least he could do his work tonight free of the certainty of Perry's guilt. Or Mac's.
He turned the knob and pushed open the door. Almost at once a barrage of barking, both high-pitched and low, echoed through the entrance hall. Norton was first to arrive, his long ropey tail beating the air. Bummer the Second scrambled in pursuit, claws skittering on the parquet floor and displacing the carpet runner.
Liam caught Norton's enormous paws halfway to his shoulders. "Well, boy, I see you still haven't learned your manners."
The Irish wolfhound answered with a wet slap of his tongue across Liam's jaw. Bummer danced around his legs, his terrier's eyes bright with a plea for attention. Liam eased Norton back to the ground, crouched, and braced himself as Bummer jumped into his lap with a joyful yip.
"And you, imp of hell. Have you been driving Chen mad with your antics?"
Bummer wriggled, and Norton rolled over majestically to present his lean belly for rubbing. Liam stroked the wiry coat. "And well you're named," he told the wolfhound. "The emperor would have approved."
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