Page 82 of Secrets of the Heart

“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 was 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.”