Her Secret Fantasy

by Gaelen Foley

“But why would Sinclair lie to Edward?” Lily asked softly. “As the head of the committee, wouldn’t any shortfall in the fund ultimately land at his feet?”

  “Not if he had a suitable scapegoat,” Derek murmured in a grim tone as the whole thing came clear in his mind. “An outsider. Somebody no one had accepted from the start. Someone they all would like to see knocked back down to where he came from.”

  “Oh, Edward,” Lily murmured.

  “I sent him right into a trap,” Lord Fallow uttered with a stricken look.

  “We must hurry,” Derek told him in a steadying tone. “Now that you’ve confirmed my suspicions, I’m afraid Lundy’s life may be in danger.”

  He didn’t want to frighten either of them, but he saw now who had killed Phillip Kane.

  What else was the chairman to do with his unpredictable co-conspirator once the brash young gambler had outlived his usefulness?

  And if he had killed once, the second time was easier.

  “We have to get to him before Sinclair does,” he said guardedly. Of course he was not eager to save the lout, but if they could get Lundy to tell his side of the story, then Lord Sinclair would know he was caught and might finally be persuaded to admit where he had hidden the army’s missing sum.

  Lord Fallow appeared shocked by Derek’s implication. “Major, I’ve known Sinclair all my life, from our school days! He was never the most agreeable chap, I admit, and in truth, I always rather felt he quite disliked me for some reason, though I never wronged him. I am stunned to hear he might have stooped to this corruption, but I could never believe he would do murder.”

  Derek started to answer, to counter the earl’s optimistic view with news of the payment to Phillip Kane that Charles had found in Sinclair’s records. But then he remembered the rumor that Lord Fallow might have been Phillip Kane’s unwilling father, and he held back his words.

  Fallow would need a clear head to deal with Lundy. He did not need the information right now that Sinclair might also have murdered his natural son.

  It was then that Derek realized fully that Lundy might not have been the only target of this operation.

  If Sinclair had been harboring some sort of long-held grudge against his old schoolmate, this whole scheme could have been but a hateful, cruel, and cowardly way of striking at the innocent Lord Fallow.

  “Better safe than sorry, sir,” was all he said in answer.

  “Yes, well, I suppose you’re right, at that.”

  “Sir,” he added, “I shall want to borrow a few weapons, if I may—just in case.”

  Lord Fallow frowned, but nodded and gestured his permission to his butler. “Let the major arm himself.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  The earl nodded firmly and then hurried upstairs to dress.

  The butler sent the night porter to the kitchens to fetch some food for Derek and Lily, then showed them to the mansion’s armory where countless swords, rifles, and muskets were on display, arrayed in starlike designs all over the walls.

  When he unlocked the earl’s fine gun case with its selection of gleaming rifles, Derek smiled. Little Matthew could have Gunter’s. This was his confectionery. “The ammunition is kept elsewhere, Major. I will bring it.”

  “Don’t be stingy,” he murmured.

  The butler nodded, then hurried off to fetch it and to wake a few of the male servants who knew how to use a weapon.

  After selecting his sidearms, Derek escorted Lily back out to the soaring statuary hall with its Grecian busts and vast checkerboard floor.

  While they waited for their food, he pulled Lily close and hugged her, saddened to think of the wound Lord Fallow had in store if Phillip Kane had indeed been his son. What a snake Sinclair was!

  Lundy had proved a snake, as well, and when Derek looked at Lily, he shook his head at how she, too, had been the victim of a selfish, skulking fraud. There are snakes all over this garden Earth.

  And then there were the flowers.

  “My sweet Lily,” he whispered as she turned her face up to search his eyes.

  “Are you all right? You seem quiet.”

  He mustered up a weary smile. “Hungry.”

  She gave him a cheeky grin. “Maybe they’ll bring us some ham.”

  He laughed, adoring her, and lightly tweaked her nose for her impertinence.

  A few minutes later, the porter brought back some bread and ale, cold slices of meat, and cheese. “I hope this will do for now, sir. Considering the hour, it was the best I could find.”

  “We’ll take it,” they said in unison, famished all the more from their little swim—and other exertions.

  Sitting on the pristine marble stairs, they devoured the food, and when Lord Fallow returned, it was time to go.

  The men were armed, and two of the earl’s carriages waited outside to take them to Lundy’s.

  Lily turned to Derek. “Do I get a gun?” she asked with an eagerness that simply tickled him.

  “Darling, don’t be daft. I’m not letting you go back there—”

  “Derek!” She glanced self-consciously at the others. “I mean, Major!”

  “No, Lily, to Lundy, you’re a target—”

  “My dear young people,” the earl interrupted, still buttoning his sleeves at his wrists, “Edward is certainly not going to harm anyone in front of me.”

  “You see? Even His Lordship knows,” she protested. “Edward is always on his best behavior in front of Lord Fallow.” She clung to Derek’s hand and gave him a beseeching look. “Please don’t leave me. I have to be with you.”

  Well, he thought, she’s safer with me than if I leave her here and Lundy’s hirelings find her. “Very well,” he conceded as he cocked his rifle with an ominous click. “But you stay right beside me.”

  She smiled from ear to ear. “If I must.”

  When they passed Lundy’s henchmen fleeing down the road in the opposite direction, Derek knew something must have happened at the estate. Maguire and Jones didn’t even stop to confront them.

  Derek and his party did not bother to chase them for now, but they were all the more determined to find out what was going on.

  By the time they arrived at Lundy’s estate, the black of night had turned to gray with a hint of dawn gathering in the east.

  The gates were open and an eerie, tomblike hush hung over the grounds. The place appeared deserted except for the horses and the dog.

  Brutus was still chained to the tree and had barked himself hoarse by now. He started up with his usual noise when he saw them but soon gave up with a cough and sat on his haunches, merely watching them as they all got out of the carriages.

  Meanwhile, Lundy’s prized bloodstock grazed in clusters here and there. The fire was out, but smoldering plumes of smoke still rose from the ruined stable, their delicate spirals rising from the burned-out hulk, blending into the gray mist.

  “Look.” Derek pointed. “That wasn’t here before.”

  There was a strange carriage parked outside the house.

  “Someone’s come,” Lily murmured while Derek kept her behind him. “Do you think it’s Lord Sinclair?”

  Suddenly, they heard an abrupt crashing sound and a garbled yell of pain from within.

  “Edward.” Lord Fallow started forward, recognizing the voice of his protégé. He turned to Derek. “You two had best stay here for the moment. I will go and talk to him.”

  “Call for me if he gives you any trouble.”

  The earl nodded, beckoned three of his four men, and strode ahead. Derek watched as Lord Fallow banged loudly on the front door and called Lundy’s name before opening it.

  He was rather surprised that it was unlocked.

  The earl and his three servants slipped inside.

  Derek, Lily, and the fourth servant waited outside. Derek scanned the neo-Gothic monstrosity, its windows dark. The house also looked deserted. Even the servants seemed to have fled. What had happened here? he wondered. But when another thunderous crash sounded
from somewhere in the house, one of the earl’s men poked his head out the door.

  “Major!”

  “Let’s go. Lily—” He started to tell her to stay outside with the remaining servant, but when he glanced over, the man was vacantly picking his ear. Derek furrowed his brow. On second thought—“Stay close to me,” he murmured, taking her hand.

  Leaving the servant behind to guard the carriages, Derek and Lily hurried inside.

  The man who had waved them in led them toward the chaos.

  Lord Fallow was waiting for them near Lundy’s office, the very room that Derek had tried to break into on the day of the garden party.

  “He’s locked himself in there,” the earl murmured. “He won’t answer. I can’t get to him.”

  “Is he alone?”

  “I don’t know, but he let out a scream a minute ago that raised the hair on my arms.”

  “Did you see anyone else? Sinclair?”

  “No. I almost told my men to break the door down, but God only knows what we might find.”

  “I’ll do it,” Derek said grimly. He turned to Lily and pointed to the door of the parlor they had visited during the garden party, a wordless order to her to hide in there.

  She nodded and obeyed.

  When he heard the parlor door’s trusty lock click home, he approached the study. Hearing a low moan of pain from within, Derek brought up his weapon.

  Nodding to Fallow to move out of the way, he kicked the door open without warning and aimed the rifle at Lundy’s head.

  But then he saw he needn’t have bothered.

  Lundy had clapped his hands over his ears at the bang of the door and let out a garbled cry.

  “My God,” Derek breathed as the others rushed into the room behind him.

  Lundy stumbled past his desk, slowly lowering his shaking hands. “Quiet, quiet,” he panted.

  “Edward,” Lord Fallow murmured in wonder, gazing around at the chaos in the room.

  By the feeble glow of a candle that Lundy could not seem to look at directly, as though the small light agonized him, Derek’s gaze swept the room. The office had been ransacked. The contents of Lundy’s desk had been swept aside and scattered all over the floor.

  “He’s stone drunk,” one of Fallow’s men muttered as Lundy lurched across the room.

  The earl himself seemed to reach this same conclusion. “Edward, this is no time for overindulgence!”

  “You go to Hell,” Lundy wrenched out, fairly spitting the words at his startled benefactor.

  “Edward!” Lord Fallow exclaimed in bewilderment.

  “You should’ve left me in the gutter where I belonged. I saved your life, and this is my thanks?”

  “He’s not drunk, my lord,” Derek said in stoic calm. “He’s been poisoned.”

  “Poisoned?” Fallow echoed.

  “Where’s Sinclair?” Derek demanded, slowly lowering his gun.

  “Dead!” Lundy gestured toward the fireplace, where Derek now noticed the portly crumpled figure lying inert by the foot of the hearth, half-covered in scattered files. “Aye, I did it. Don’t bother arrestin’ me for it. I’ll be joinin’ ’im soon enough.”

  “What did you do to him?”

  “Threw him across the room! He didn’t get up—hit his head. Too good a death for him, the snake.” His words had barely ended when Lundy let out a shriek and arced with a wild grimace, falling against his desk, his head jolting back. He fell to his knees.

  “Edward!” Lord Fallow ran to him, trying to help, but Lundy warded him off.

  “Don’t touch me—it hurts!” he wrenched out, gasping for air as the horrible convulsion passed.

  “Nightshade,” Derek whispered.

  “Is there nothing you can do?” a soft voice murmured from the doorway.

  Derek froze, then closed his eyes, realizing Lily had come out of her hiding place. God, he did not want her to see her former suitor’s agony. “You should not be here.”

  “Can’t you help him, Derek?”

  “I wish I could.”

  “Lily?” Lundy asked weakly. “I can’t see. Are you here?”

  “Edward.”

  Derek put out his arm and stopped her on her way toward him. “Don’t.”

  “Derek, he is dying. No one deserves to die alone. He is no threat to me now. It’s all right.” She removed his hand from her way and went over and knelt down beside Lundy, wishing she had some way to comfort him. “Oh, Edward.”

  “I’m sorry for what I done to you,” Lundy groaned. “You always was too good for me.”

  “I’m sorry, too, for the way I chased your fortune.”

  “Well, it’s all gone now. Tell my mum—good-bye.”

  Tears rose in Lily’s eyes as another fierce convulsion wracked him. Derek drew her back, pulling her away from the sight. Lily turned her face into his chest as Lundy screamed.

  He held her while Lundy died before their eyes.

  After a moment, perhaps his anguished spirit left their midst, for the heavy sense of suffering ebbed from the room.

  The others stood in hollow silence, staring at the corpse. His eyes were wide, his face frozen in a grimace of pain.

  Derek looked at Lord Fallow. The earl seemed to have aged ten years in the past ten minutes. Reading his face, he could tell that His Lordship had begun to put two and two together.

  Derek set Lily aside with a kiss on her brow and stalked over to the prostrate form by the fireplace.

  Moving a few of the files and scattered papers off Lord Sinclair, he noted a small pool of blood beneath the chairman’s balding head and felt for a pulse. When he touched the man’s neck, Sinclair began to stir.

  “He’s alive.”

  “Not for long.” Lord Fallow stalked over and slapped Sinclair awake, then grabbed his arms, wrenching him up to a seated position to stare in his face. “Open your eyes, damn you! I want you to see my bullet coming.”

  Derek reached out to stop him. “My lord—”

  “Stand aside, Major!” Ashen-faced and shaking, Lord Fallow thrust his pistol into Sinclair’s face. “You murderer. Traitor! You killed them both, didn’t you? First Phillip, now Edward! You killed them both! My son and one who was like a son to me. Why, why?” he wailed.

  In the quiet as Lord Fallow waited for his answer, Derek could hear Lily crying softly.

  He looked at her with a gaze that begged her to leave.

  But she stayed.

  “Go on, shoot me, you arrogant son of a bitch,” Sinclair muttered. “Prove to everyone you’re not the saint that you pretend to be.”

  “What?”

  “I’m so sick of you, Fallow. I’m so sick of everyone fawning on you, and hearing your name uttered in such reverent tones. ‘Ah, Lord Fallow, such a virtuous man!’”

  “What are you talking about?” he cried.

  “To hell with you if you’re too stupid to understand how much I despise the sight of you. Just get it over with. Pull the bloody trigger.”

  Lord Fallow looked horrified and bewildered. “What did I ever do to you?”

  Sinclair said nothing.

  Fallow looked at Derek, at a loss.

  He shrugged. “Jealousy? Some people don’t need a reason to hate. It’s in their nature. Please, my lord, put your weapon away. He does not deserve your bullet,” Derek said evenly, prepared to stop Fallow by sterner means if it came to it. “No doubt he would prefer it to a trial before the House of Lords and the noose he’s got coming. Don’t give him what he wants.”

  “You’re right.” Fallow trembled, but Derek’s words finally sank in. Slowly, he put his pistol back in the holster. “Quite right, Major. A quick end is too good for the likes of him.”

  “Ah, the good man Fallow doesn’t disappoint,” Sinclair hissed in poisonous bitter mockery.

  “Good man? Do not call me good!” Fallow shouted, grabbing Sinclair’s collar. “I abandoned my son, the one that you killed. I ruined him with my neglect. And look where it’s led.”
He released him roughly. “Good man? I am a failure, guilty of the cruelty that only a parent can give. And now God’s paid me back for it.”

  “Sir,” Derek whispered as Fallow broke down weeping.

  “Phillip. Edward…”

  Derek gestured to Fallow’s servants. They stepped forward and gently collected their old master, taking him back outside. Derek tried to wave Lily out of the room, too, but she shook her head and remained firmly planted.

  Her loyalty moved him. He gave her a tender look, ordered Fallow’s men to bring the constables, and then turned his attention to the chairman.

  “You’re caught, Sinclair,” he informed him. “Your only hope of leniency now is to tell us where you’ve hidden the money you stole.”

  “I stole?” he retorted sardonically as he sat up, leaning against the empty fireplace.

  “Oh, yes. Need I remind you that treason is the sort of charge that could get your family stripped of its title forever? Lord! Could you stand to see your firstborn son reduced to a mere commoner?”

  Sinclair’s eyes flared slightly.

  “Appalling possibility, isn’t it?” Derek drawled. “I take it you failed to think that far ahead. Or perhaps you merely assumed your scheme would never be found out.”

  He scoffed. “What scheme?”

  “Taking a cut of the army’s money for yourself. Three hundred thousand pounds, to be exact.”

  “I did nothing of the kind.”

  “Of course you did. And I know how you did it. Lundy and Phillip Kane were merely your instruments. But now it’s all come to light.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Shall I explain? It’s really not that complicated. You, with all the business savvy, set up a fraudulent company and hired Phillip Kane with his acting skills to pose as its director. He probably thought he’d be getting a nice, big, juicy cut of that money, but instead all he got was this.” He pointed to Edward’s corpse, already rigid from the nightshade. “I’m not much of a gambler, but if I were, I’d have to bet you planned to eliminate Kane from the start, as soon as he had served his function.”

  “Major, your accusations are ludicrous.”

  “No. Because, you see, my lord, we found the payment you made to Phillip Kane in your financial records, and God knows he had reasons of his own to hate his father’s protégé. Both of you must have been consumed with jealous hatred.” Derek paused before moving on. “To help coax your mark Edward into taking the bait, you made sure to plant the lie in his brain that borrowing from the fund was a common practice among the Gentlemen of the Committee, as long as the loan was kept discreet.”