TWICE A HERO

by Susan Krinard

  But they'd both underestimated Caroline's stubbornness. She'd had the sense to stay out of the fight until the hatchetman came for her; then she'd fought tooth and nail instead of swooning or screaming.

  Perry was proud of her. He knew she must have followed him when he'd stopped to watch her house for a few brief moments before facing the ordeal in Chinatown; she'd followed out of concern for him. She'd stayed by his side, obeyed his instructions like a woman with twice her experience. Even when Perry had been helpless to save her from the hatchetman and Liam had thrown his knife, she'd never lost her courage.

  At the end of it all she'd run to Perry, not Liam.

  He counted it a sign of hope. Hope that she was beginning to see him as more than merely a friend; hope that the pain he'd given her would fade quickly. Already she was thinking beyond herself, staying with Mei Ling and doing what she could for the dazed young woman. Perry's brief explanation of the fate that awaited girls like Mei Ling—a fate Caroline had been ignorant of—had roused her immediate indignation.

  It was the first stirring of the woman Perry knew she could be. Would be. He'd heard only a trace of bitterness in the last words she'd spoken to him: "I know Liam has no need for me. Nothing can ever truly hurt him."

  In that she was wrong, Perry thought with a twinge of sadness. It wasn't the physical wounds that mattered most. From those a man recovered. But that was not something she could yet understand; Liam had hurt her youthful pride, torn her admiration of him to tatters, and she would need time to…

  Time to fully realize how wrong it would have been to marry her guardian, to see that things had worked out for the best. Time to recognize what love could be. That was all she needed now—time and love.

  Perry knew how to be patient.

  "Mr. Sinclair?"

  He came back to himself. "Doctor?"

  "Mr. O'Shea asked me to send you in. I advised him to rest, but—" The doctor shook his head. "I trust you won't tax him."

  "You may trust me," Perry said gravely. He nodded to the doctor and glanced at Rose. She stood frozen against the wall, her face a mask to hide what Perry knew she must be feeling.

  Liam hadn't asked to see her.

  Perry went to Rose and clasped her shoulder. She looked at him with such desperation that he almost mouthed the platitudes he knew she had no use for.

  Instead he squeezed her shoulder and turned to beard the lion in his den.

  Liam lay on the bed, propped up against a bundle of pillows, his arm and chest swathed in bandages. He was as pale as Rose, the hollows under his eyes and cheekbones pronounced, the lines around his mouth deepened with pain. He opened his eyes as Perry shut the door.

  "So," Liam said. "It seems you saved Mac's life. And mine."

  Interesting, a part of Perry thought distantly, which action Liam mentioned first. "I know that surprises you, old man," he said. "But perhaps now you're prepared to believe I never wanted you dead."

  Liam laughed and hissed as the motion wrung a protest from his body. "No. Just out of the way."

  Perry pulled a chair close to the bed. "Do you mind if I sit down?"

  "I'm not in any shape to stop you."

  "Of that I wouldn't be too sure. But I do trust your common sense—now." He sat down and crossed his legs. "Where shall we begin?"

  "I don't know." Liam passed his uninjured hand over his face. "I don't know what to believe anymore."

  From Liam it was a shocking admission, especially to one he'd considered an enemy. "You want to know why it appeared that I was working with the tongs," Perry prompted. "You want to know what really happened with the carriage, and the drugged wine, and the ambush in Chinatown. Is that a place to start? Or do you perhaps still suspect I was behind the jungle attack?"

  "Should I think what happened with the guerrillas was coincidence?" Liam said heavily.

  "It seems to be the truth. Odd, isn't it? It was that coincidence that led you to assume I was responsible for the carriage accident as well. I learned of the sawed axle soon after it happened. I suspected you might hold me responsible for it even before I knew you had better reason than I'd supposed."

  "And that's why you disappeared."

  "Only in part." Perry uncrossed his legs and sat forward. "Hear me out, old man. You may have trouble believing what I tell you, and I don't ask for your trust. I knew you wouldn't listen before, but now…"

  "I owe you," Liam said. "Mac—"

  Ah, yes. "Mac." "As I owe you for Caroline's life. Hard as it may be for you to accept, I didn't go to the tongs hoping they would help me eliminate you, and then suddenly have a change of heart. A dramatic scenario, I grant you, but not accurate."

  "Then why?"

  "I don't deny that everything I did was to free Caroline from you—and save both of you from a disastrous alliance."

  "Noble of you, old friend," Liam said bitterly.

  "I also don't deny a selfish motive." He let silence fall until Liam was looking at him again. "I love Caroline. I want her happiness—and yours. I learned long ago that the end does sometimes justify the means."

  "That sounds more like the Peregrine Sinclair I know."

  "But how little we do know each other. How little we know ourselves." He forced himself to focus on the issue at hand. "Let me dispense with the tong business first. It was when I learned of the carriage mishap that I realized there was more going on than our disagreement over Caroline—"

  Liam sat up against the pillows. "How did you learn about it? Only Chen and Forster knew—"

  "And both are loyal to you. But I do have experience in getting information, old man, as you discovered when you investigated my past." He saluted Liam with two fingers to his temple. "You were good at unearthing matters I'd thought buried. But I was the best at what I did for the mother country."

  "You were a damned spy and hired—"

  "We're speaking of the present, not my past." He leaned back in the chair again, ignoring the sting of memories he'd put behind him. "Following the incident at Cliff House, I came to Sacramento Street fully intending to have it out with you. But the accident persuaded me it would not be the right time—and also convinced me that someone meant you ill. When Forster saw me on your grounds he advised me to leave, since he'd overheard you threaten to kill me. I thought it best to lie low and see what I could learn about the true villains of the piece."

  "And made yourself the most conspicuous suspect."

  Perry shrugged. "It was a risk I had to take. I'd already lost your trust. And I was reasonably certain at that point that you would not ask Caroline to marry you until her birthday, because I knew you did not truly wish to marry her at all. I had nearly two weeks in which to investigate."

  Liam looked away. "Wiser than God himself, aren't you?"

  "No," Perry said softly. "Not always wise. But I didn't want to see you dead, Liam. I already knew about your work with the slave girls—yes, I made it my business to know all you did, for Caroline's sake. It didn't take me long to realize that the tongs and their outside supporters had decided to risk… dealing with you. They'd lost too much business and too much money on the girls you'd rescued. They arranged the accident as a warning. If you died in the process, all the better."

  "Your resignation from active service was a great loss to the queen."

  "Thank you. Once I knew the nature of the threat, I set about contacting the tong lords in question and offering my services to them. As your friend, I had access to you that they did not. I offered to get rid of you for a portion of their profits in the slave trade. They saw the benefit of having one outsider take care of another; less risk of police interference that way. The boss couldn't pass up the opportunity. I told them they mustn't take any more action until I was ready."

  "And they believed you."

  Perry grimaced. "Apparently not enough, since they planned to kill us both in the end. In any event, I knew you would almost certainly propose to Caroline the night of the ball, so I came disguised and s
poke to Rose about how we might prevent it. I'd learned of your raid for the following night, so I warned the tongs and then set an anonymous message to Chen that the tongs knew of it. As I hoped, you moved the raid to that very evening—"

  "Damn you," Liam said, pushing forward as if to rise. Only physical weakness held him down. "You were the informant. They were ready for us when we went that night—"

  "Yes. I'm not proud of that miscalculation. Apparently my warning put the tongs doubly on guard. I am sorry."

  "Be sorry for the girls we couldn't save."

  Shame was not an accustomed emotion to Perry, but it was one he'd begun to learn. Love did that to a man. "I shall make up for that," he said evenly, "in time. The next morning I learned of your expected rendezvous with Caroline at the Poodle Dog, and saw to it that the invitation she received was altered."

  "You sent Mac in her place."

  Liam's coldness belied the concern he'd shown earlier for Rose. Perry wondered how much he'd underestimated the threat to Liam's pride. "It was my idea, Liam—don't blame her. You see, she couldn't accept that I'd tried to kill you, however little her faith in me seems justified. But she was worried about you—deeply."

  That gave Liam pause, enough that Perry felt a renewal of hope. If the man had his eyes opened to the chance he had right in front of him…

  "You made sure Caroline walked in on us," Liam said.

  "I did. But Rose didn't know that was part of my plan."

  "And what about the drugged wine?"

  Ah. There was no avoiding this confession. Perry wrapped indifference around himself and spoke without a trace of emotion. "That was an error—an overeager waiter in my employ. If Mac hadn't succeeded in winning your interest, I determined to get you out of harm's way. I could only delay the tongs for so long, and I knew they meant to kill you eventually, whatever the risks."

  "You put Mac at risk. She almost drank it."

  There was more dangerous anger in Liam now than at any time before. Another hopeful sign.

  "The drug would only have rendered you both unconscious. I have connections in this city and beyond that you know nothing about. I could have spirited both you and Rose to a safe place, long enough to convince Caroline you were not truly interested in her, and the tongs that you were no longer a threat. I would never have harmed either one of you, Liam."

  He only stared at Perry as if he wished he were on his feet and capable of knocking his former partner to the floor. "If Mac had been harmed—" But he caught himself and was satisfied to twist his sheets into tortured balls between his fingers.

  "And was Mei Ling's kidnapping also your idea, Perry?"

  "No. The tongs knew you'd come if they abducted her. I took full advantage of the trap. I told them I'd have a carriage to get you out of Chinatown when you came to rescue Mei Ling, and all their problems would be solved."

  "And you thought you had everything so well controlled that no one would be hurt? Not Chen, not Mei Ling?"

  "It was a risk, but I did what I could to minimize it. Did you wonder why it was so easy to free Mei Ling and hold off the hatchetmen until she and her uncle escaped? I did what I could without betraying myself. When it was apparent they might kill you, it was necessary to hit you in order to assure them of my sincerity."

  "And what if you had got me away?"

  "I would have gone through with your 'disappearance,' at least until matters with the tongs had cooled. Quite a moot point now, since they know I betrayed them." Perry rose and walked halfway across the room. "I doubt the tongs will feel comfortable making any further attempts on either one of us, given the renewed police interest in their activities. Nevertheless, I think a change of scenery might be advisable for the players in the game."

  "Is that all it ever was to you, Perry? A game?"

  Strangely enough, that accusation hurt more than any of the others. "It was never a joy to me, Liam—not here, and not in England. I would like nothing better than to settle into a quite uneventful life with the woman I love."

  Liam's eyes were empty of emotion. "How can I trust you with her?"

  "Perhaps it would help to tell you that I'm not the fortune hunter you feared. A rather large family breach was recently healed, and I've been welcomed back to the bosom of the Sinclairs. I came into a nice sum of money, old man—enough to support Caroline comfortably without dipping into her funds in the foreseeable future." He paused, smiling wryly. "It is something your man—Mr. Bauer, is it not?—can confirm easily enough."

  "How long have you known?"

  "Only for a week, but by then there was little point in telling you of it. There were more pressing matters to deal with. Given the current situation, I wish to take Caroline—properly chaperoned, of course—to England to meet my brother. He was always the most decent of my immediate family, and she would enjoy the travel."

  Liam was quiet for a long time. "Mac always trusted you," he said at last. "But you used her as well."

  "I doubt anyone can use Miss MacKenzie without her cooperation. She's a very bright girl, though one might question her taste."

  Liam's gaze locked on his with a strange, burning ferocity. "What do you mean?"

  "Do you know what she told me when she first approached me? That she wanted to help me, and all she wanted in return was you. Not your money, but you. Now I'm inclined to think she was telling the truth all along."

  "Truth? What is the truth in any of this?"

  "I've learned one thing in my varied career, old man, and that's that there is no one truth. Each man must find his own."

  "You missed your calling, Perry. You should have been a philosopher."

  "Perhaps it's not too late."

  But Liam didn't answer, didn't speak again until Perry had reached the door and was on his way out of the room.

  "Perry."

  He paused without looking back.

  "You left something here that belongs to you. In the left upper drawer of the desk."

  Perry went on his guard. He walked back to the desk and opened the indicated drawer.

  His pocket watch lay inside. Battered, scratched, the chain broken in one place, it was both familiar and strange. The hands were frozen in a perpetual announcement of four o'clock.

  "Take it," Liam said.

  Perry did, knowing well what this meant. His throat was oddly taut. He held the watch in his palm, rereading the inscription, and then began to wind it, slowly and deliberately, until it hummed with life again.

  "Go to Caroline," Liam said. "Make sure she's all right."

  The tightness in Perry's throat made it damnably—and ridiculously—difficult to speak. "And Miss MacKenzie? Do you wish to—"

  "The doctor told me she was well," Liam interrupted. "She can more than take care of herself."

  So that was the way the wind blew.

  Perry tucked the watch in his waistcoat pocket. He left the room, closed the door, and went to summon Rose.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Why meet we on the bridge of Time

  to change one greeting and to part?

  —Sir Richard Francis Burton

  MAC WALKED UP the stairs with feet that dragged and legs that felt heavy as lead. Talking things out with Caroline during the past half-hour had been difficult, but she would have gone through it a thousand times rather than do what had to be done now. At least Caroline was young enough to be flexible, to change, to listen. And to bare her own heart.

  Mac felt old. Too old to risk pouring out her soul to the man who waited upstairs. Too much aware of how little good it would do when she'd be here a matter of days. Or hours. She had only to ask Perry for his pendant, and then…

  She didn't knock on the door. Norton lay sprawled at the foot of the bed; his head and ears came up, and he was on top of Mac almost before she could prepare herself for his affectionate onslaught.

  As she accepted the dog's enthusiastic greeting she watched Liam become aware of her, returning from some faraway place within his
own mind. He straightened on the bed, suppressing a wince of pain. He was well bandaged, and her own eyes told her he was going to be all right. Thank God and every deity that had ever existed in the history of time.

  "Don't even think of standing up," she ordered.

  Oh, yes. She'd read him right. The hard set of his shadowed jaw and the bleakness in his gaze told her how much he hated to be helpless this way in front of her. It reminded him of Chinatown, and the failure he saw within himself—the self-contempt, the terror she'd seen so vividly when they'd both been close to death.

  "Well, Mac?" His breathing was harsh. "Are you here to play nursemaid to the invalid?"

  The attack wasn't aimed at her. It was all for himself. "You're too cantankerous to need nursing, O'Shea. I felt more sorry for the doctor."

  "It seems I'm to be talked to death instead."

  Mac dragged a chair close to the bedside. "There are things I need to explain—"

  "Like Perry?"

  "You… know he didn't try to kill you."

  His muscles bunched, and she knew he wanted very badly to rise and pace the room like a caged jaguar. "If you've only come to talk about Perry—" he rasped.

  "No." She reached out to him, unable to help herself. "What I need to tell you Perry doesn't even know. I—"

  Her hand was seized in a firm but remarkably careful grip. "Good God," Liam said. "You are hurt."

  She followed his anxious look. The modest bandage around her hand was hardly like Liam's; she'd almost forgotten the cut was there. "Just a scratch," she said, giving him a lopsided grin. "I'm not too handy with a knife—not fighting with it, anyway. It's nothing, really. I've had worse mosquito bites in the jungle—"

  "You little idiot. Did you mean to get both yourself and Caroline killed?"

  Gently she worked her hand from his grasp. "I can't take credit for bringing Caroline along. She came on her own. And it so happened I heard your conversation with the messenger at the Palace." She chuckled thickly. "Couldn't let you go and get yourself killed, considering the trouble I took to save your life in the jungle."