Part 25 (1/2)

”You'd like that, wouldn't you?” He finally caught her arm and swung her around. ”You'd like me on top in a very different situation.”

”Pardon me?”

He pulled her closer. ”You can fool the others, Mac, but not me. You'll always be what you are, no matter how many Mrs. Wyndhams approve or how many gowns you wear. It's all paint over dross.”

She tried to jerk free. ”You should know.”

The blood was pounding in his ears. ”Should I?”

”You think you've figured me out, Liam, but I can play the same game. You're a man who's had to fight all his life for everything he has.” Her voice dropped so low that he almost couldn't hear it over the surf. ”You had a hard childhood, no privileges or gentleness, only stark poverty and struggle. Now you're rich, but you haven't left that childhood behind, have you? Is that why you want to marry Caroline, because she's like some pretty toy you didn't have as a kid? Because she means you've finally succeeded?”

He let her go as if her flesh had turned to fire. ”Lucky guesses, Mac?” he rasped. ”Or is this Perry's opinion?”

”Perry has nothing to do with it. But Caroline does. You don't know when to stop, Liam. You're trying to make Caroline into somethinga”d.a.m.n it, what's going to happen when she really proves she has a mind of her own?”

Liam felt cold through to the center of his heart. ”You don't need to be concerned about that, Mac. Soon it'll be over, and you'll be out of this city. That's how it will be. How it has to be.”

She only gazed at him, looking almost lost. Conceding the last word to him, granting him victory.

A victory that felt utterly hollow.

He turned and called the dogs. They came running, b.u.mmer dancing around and around his feet and Norton leaning companionably against his side. True friends, incapable of using human speech to wound and rend and betray.

”I'll take you back to the Palace now, Miss MacKenzie,” he said tonelessly.

”And Caroline?”

”I've sent her home.”

”I think I'd rather walk.”

He wouldn't have been surprised if she tried it. ”Will you come willingly, or shall I throw you over my shoulder?”

”Someday,” she said, sitting down in the sand to pull on her soiled boots, ”you might learn there are better ways to get what you want than brute strength and intimidation.”

He didn't answer her. They walked stiffly, Mac in the lead, back to the road.

The carriage ride to the Palace was made without conversation. Mac, somber and unyielding, was ready to speak only when he let her off in the Grand Court.

”Ask yourself one thing, Liam,” she said quietly as he prepared to drive away. ”Why are you so anxious to be rid of me now? Why are you so afraid?”

And she turned away before he could summon a reply.

Liam kept his mind blank as he drove home. Even the dogs were unusually quiet. Only on the last stretch of Sacramento Street did he set the horses in one last, reckless run to the gates of his great, empty house.

It was at those gates that the world lurched violently and threw Liam forward against the dashboard of the surrey. The horses screamed and reared. A hard grip on the seat kept him from falling out; the effort wrenched his arm and slammed his head against the roof. He heard a yelp and a whimper and struggled to right himself.

The carriage had collapsed on one side, front and rear wheels tilted at an impossible angle. b.u.mmer lay very still on the ground a few feet away, Norton licking him with worried nudges of his muzzle. Ignoring the pain in his arm and head, Liam scrambled out of the surrey. He gave the horses a swift check and found them trembling and white-eyed but whole. He moved quickly to crouch beside the dogs.

”b.u.mmer,” he said. ”Can you hear me, boy?”

The terrier's visible eye opened and then shut again. His whimper was barely audible. Liam ran his hand over b.u.mmer's side, careful not to exert any pressure. One of the dog's legs was bleeding badly, and he flinched when Liam brushed his ribs. Pus.h.i.+ng Norton gently out of the way, Liam gathered the terrier in his arms and strode for the gates.

Chen met him before he reached the front door. ”Mr. O'Shea, whata””

”We've had an accident, Chen. Send for the veterinarian immediately. And clean up b.u.mmer's leg. I think his ribs are broken.”

With utmost care Chen took the dog, murmuring a.s.surances into the terrier's limp triangular ear. ”I will take good care of him.”

”I know you will. When b.u.mmer's safe, send a message to Mr. Bauer that I'll need to see him right away. I'll be in front speaking with Forster.”

”At once, Mr. O'Shea.” Chen vanished into the house, Norton trotting anxiously behind.

Liam knew b.u.mmer couldn't be in better hands until the veterinarian arrived. His next most pressing business wouldn't wait. He went out into the garden and was taking the path toward the carriage house when he saw Forster by the surrey, bent over one of the ruined wheels.

”Well?” he said, joining the other man. ”What caused it?”

Forster straightened. ”I can't account for it, Mr. O'Shea, except that it looks like someone sawed halfway through the front axle. A few good runs and it was bound to give way.” He clucked his tongue. ”It's a miracle the horses weren't hurt.”

”Yes.” Liam remembered how he'd raced the surrey not once but twice, how Mac had been in the carriage only minutes before.

She could have been badly hurt.

Shea could have died.

This had been no accident. No accident that Caroline had been safe with Perry in the gig.

He unb.u.t.toned the collar of his s.h.i.+rt and ripped off his tie. ”See to the horses, Forster. The veterinarian's on his waya”have him examine them carefully, and give them an extra measure of grain tonight. The poor beasts have earned it.”

”I'll do that, Mr. O'Shea. Are you all right?”

”Perfectly.”

Forster gave him a dubious glance and went to calm the horses, unbuckling their harness. ”There, now,” he soothed. ”You'll be fine, my beauties. No one will hurt you again.”

Liam stood by the surrey as Forster led the team away. No, no one would hurt the horses or b.u.mmer or anyone else again. His bitter thoughts turned toward the center of town, toward Market and a certain suite of boardinghouse rooms.

This time I'll kill you, Perry.

The room was heavy with the scent of incense, a scent that didn't quite cover the more acrid smell of opium from the adjoining chamber. Perry was grateful for the low light and heavy shadows; he'd been careful to wear a hat that gave him some anonymity so that the man he was to meet would have trouble identifying him later.