Johnson spoke up and asked Kemmer more questions but Archer stopped listening, desperately trying to find a way to get Sarah to safety.
His hand steady, never moving an inch off Sarah’s chest, the tax man replied as he walked toward her. She moved backward, her arms wrapped tightly around her father’s device. She hugged it like a security shield.
A shield.
Archer calculated the angle Kemmer had on Sarah.
It could work. Rigdon had used dense metal for the outer shell that would be enough to stop a bullet. If Kemmer had pushed Holland to hand over this amazing pistol before the talented gunsmith had had the opportunity to ensure the load calculations were ideal, the long barrel would mean the bullet’s velocity was compromised. Which in this case meant that Sarah had a workable shield in her father’s machine.
That was a huge if.
But they were running out of time. Sarah had nearly reached the door and Kemmer was only a few steps away from her. “Sarah, I used the shield mechanism your father installed in the scanner to identify the ink.” Archer prayed she would understand.
She frowned at him, keeping her steps measured as she walked through the doorway and into the front room. Like a parade they all followed. “The shield mechanism?”
“Yes, it only required minor adjustments on my part. I just wanted you to know, so you could hold the knowledge your father is a genius close to your heart.”
“How sweet.” Kemmer smirked. “Any other last sweet nothings you want to send her way before we leave?”
Sarah bit her lip. Then her expression cleared. Her eyes widened. The stark fear in the pools of blue nearly killed him. For a moment she only continued her slow backward walk.
He cursed, sure she hadn’t understood. He was just about to say something else that would hopefully be more obvious when she adjusted her hold on the Banknote Verification Device until his covered her chest and the upper half of her abdomen.
For a second the barrier she had pushed down around her lifted. The trust and pain in her eyes just about drove him to his knees.
He lifted his gun and aimed. “Now!”
Four shots rang out. Three of them hit Kemmer in the chest, but Archer already raced to Sarah. The force of Kemmer’s shot had pushed her back a couple of steps. He caught her and tugged her arms open, forcing her to drop the device, before pulling her against his chest.
There was blood on her sleeve. He growled.
“Archer!” He looked up and met Warren’s worried gaze. “Let her go. We need to see if she is all right.”
He exhaled and slowly unlocked his arms.
Sarah immediately stepped back. Warren stopped her with a gentle touch to the shoulder and held out his hand. “Please let me see, sweet.”
She gave him her arm and he pressed a handkerchief against the seeping blood. Warren ripped open the arm of her blouse. “It is only a graze.”
Archer exhaled again, gripping the edge of the front desk. “Thank goodness.”
“I would like to leave now.” The impersonal tone of Sarah’s voice hit him like a fist.
She had taken a step back from Warren and pressed the cloth against her arm.
“We need to take you to the doctor,” Warren said.
She shook her head and lifted the handkerchief. “The bleeding has mostly stopped.”
“I have called for reinforcements.” Johnson joined them. He studied Sarah before looking at Archer. “How did you stop his bullet?”
Archer walked over a couple of steps and picked up the device. The bullet was lodged in the base. He showed it to his friend.
Johnson whistled. “Goodness me, that was close. Does it still work?”
Archer’s brows rose.
“Kemmer is dead. There is no way for us to get any insights or coconspirators from him. Your device is still the only working thing we have to protect the economy.”
“Warren, will you stay with Sarah while we see if the prototype still works?”
“I will come with you.” Sarah wound the kerchief around her arm and straightened her shoulders. Some color had returned to her cheeks, but overall she looked exhausted and worn down.
And she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
“Let’s do this.” Johnson strode back to the office and into the secret room. They followed him.
The narrow compartment ran the length of the wall. Two presses, a stack of paper and three tubes of ink filled the limited space.
Archer picked up a couple of £5 notes and went to the desk.
“Sarah, would you please set up your father’s machine?”
She took the device from Johnson and initialized it for him. He fed each note into the slot on the left. It took only a few minutes. Each note had the red light flare up. “These banknotes are all fakes.”
Johnson pulled a note out of his pocket. “Try this one, just as a control case.”
Sarah did and the light flashed green.
“Excellent, it is still functioning.” Johnson turned off the machine. “I appreciate your help in closing this, Latimer. The Houses will be very relieved.” He slapped Archer on the shoulder. “And well done for getting this machine all sorted. I’ll take it back with me just so no one else tries to make off with it.”
Beside him Sarah made a move as if to protest but then stopped. “If this is all, Detective Inspector, may I please go home?”
“Certainly, Miss Rigdon. You have been incredibly brave. We would not have been able to bring this to a close without your help. In the name of Her Majesty and the Metropolitan Police I would like to thank you for everything you have done.”
“You are welcome.”
“Would you like a constable to take you home?”
She grimaced. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but being seen with a police officer would not help my reputation in any way.”
Johnson chuckled. “Of course, Miss Rigdon, I understand completely.”
“Take the steam coach,” Warren said. “It is just outside. Archer and I can find our own way home.”
She stiffened but nodded. “Thank you.” With a final nod to Johnson she walked out of the office.
Archer followed her a few steps and found her beside Kemmer’s body. Pale and with a grimace she made as if to bend down.
“What do you need?”
She stiffened and didn’t look at him. “He has a photograph cartouche in his inside pocket.”
He walked up. “Yes, he did say something about sending photographs to The Daily Mail.” He knelt beside the body and dug out the cartouche. “Who is in these photographs?” he asked as he rose to his feet. He held out the cartouche and she took it, very careful not to touch him at all.
Sarah looked over his shoulder and didn’t reply.
“Kemmer said he wanted to ruin you.”
She continued to ignore him, staring straight ahead.
Realization dawned. “He had images of us together, didn’t he?”
No response.
His stomach tied itself into knots. “That is how he made you hand over the machine.” Archer reached out to take her hand. She twisted out of the way.
“Sarah, I am so incredibly sor—”
“I don’t want to hear it.”
She finally met his gaze. It was like a punch to the face. Her eyes were a dull blue, with all life, all vibrancy and vitality removed.
“You did what you had to do and I am now doing the same. Goodbye, Archer.” She turned away and walked out onto the street where she climbed into the steam coach.
Archer watched her walk away, his dreams in tatters at his feet. And it was his own damn fault. He’d held his fantasy in his arms and then destroyed it with his doubts and suspicions. Had wrecked his chance at a family.
“I will see you at the house.” Warren strode past him.
Shit, he is furious with me. Archer rubbed his hands over his face, suddenly incredibly tired and feeling as if lead weights covered his body.
<
br /> “Give him some time. I don’t know what happened between the three of you, but Warren loves you too much to not give you a chance to grovel.”
“Why should I grovel? He has been as involved in our quest as I—” Archer froze. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Johnson laughed and gripped Archer’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, I don’t believe that the government should have the right to regulate who loves whom. If you are happy and harm no one, what do I care.” He patted Archer’s shoulder and walked out to give the arriving constables instructions.
Archer just stood there for a moment. He should have known Johnson would see through Warren’s and his deception. He was very glad that his friend didn’t shun him because of it.
He slowly walked out of the office and onto the street. Numbness spread through him. Tonight had not gone the way he had expected. He rubbed his tired eyes, his arms heavy.
He had hurt the two most important people in his life. In his effort to protect himself he had allowed his demons to terrorize Sarah and Warren.
Sarah had not looked back when she walked out.
Warren had left too angry to even shout. That happened rarely and usually meant Archer had really messed up.
He walked the dark streets alone, the dim gaslight matching his morose mood. The longer he walked, the stronger his determination grew to heal the breach. He would find a way to make it up to them, to apologize and bring them back together again.
Right now he had no idea how he would accomplish this, but he would find a way.
He had to.
* * * * *
After the disastrous night Sarah had gone back home and tried to bury her memories in the deepest parts of her mind. She then had to explain to her father what had happened, that she handed over his life’s work to protect both of them. And that the man they both trusted planned to take credit for his work.
Her father had hugged her and assured her that Latimer would never take credit for another man’s work. She tried to tell him that Detective Johnson had congratulated Archer on his achievement and Archer had not protested.
Her father just patted her hand and told her to wait and see.
To her complete and utter surprise her father turned out to be right. Over the next two weeks Sarah’s life changed dramatically.
The Rigdon’s Banknote Verification Device worked and her father, Josiah Philip Rigdon, was named the inventor, despite his best attempts at including Archer for his final work. Archer insisted he had only tweaked what was already there but the overall machine was all Mr. Rigdon.
She struggled to understand his motivation. Did he want nothing to connect them because he still believed that she produced fraudulent banknotes?
When Johnson had congratulated him on his achievement Archer had not protested, making her believe he would take credit for her father’s work. But then he did the complete opposite and praised her father for his genius, leaving Sarah confused and no longer able to distinguish up from down. Did he want to give her father that moment in the light to show all the unbelievers that he was an actual inventor?
Question after question swirled through her head, with no answers in sight. Archer and Warren had completely disappeared from her life.
No message, no explanation, no attempt to see her again. They just vanished from her life, not even trying to explain their relationship with each other. If that didn’t reveal quite plainly how little value she’d ever held to them, then she didn’t know what did.
Sarah hugged herself and stood before the window, but saw nothing. She loved Archer. She loved Warren. And they loved each other.
Their feelings for each other didn’t upset her. On the contrary, they filled her with arousal, with curiosity and the need to explore. The three of them together should have been the fulfillment of her ultimate fantasy. Their perfect triad.
Instead she stood here, alone but for the company of their secrets.
That like nothing else showed how unimportant she was to them.
She’d been so sure she’d be in control. That she could handle the choices she’d made. Sarah’s laughter brimmed with bitterness.
How unprepared she’d been for the wilderness they’d unleashed inside her. She wanted to be more to them than a figure on a canvas. More than a convenient lover who had given them a few days of easy pleasure. But Warren and Archer had a life together. One that obviously did not have room for her. They had each other. They had their perfect world together. They didn’t need her.
No one did.
Her forehead dropped against the window glass. She had so wished for them—no, had believed they shared her feelings, but Warren and Archer had not deemed her worthy of their trust.
That above all else shattered her heart.
A month ago she would have been happy with whatever scraps of feelings they had given her. She would have been their cover if that was all that they wanted in exchange for being close to them.
But now she knew she deserved more. She was worthy of more.
Sarah straightened.
She had the memories she’d longed for to keep her warm at night. Surely, once more time had passed she’d be able to think back on these days and only remember the pleasure instead of drowning in the crushing torment of unrequited love.
When she was an old woman she’d be able to look back on her life and remember that once, long ago, she had loved deeply.
Even if the feeling had never been returned.
But logic was a cold bedfellow and Sarah wished she had someone to confide in. Her father was completely in his element. And utterly oblivious to her pain.
Keeping her emotions bottled up was cutting her heart to ribbons. She needed someone to assure her that she wasn’t as unlovable as she felt right now. That she still had a future and would find a man who would trust her as well as love her the way she deserved.
She missed Beatrice more each day, wishing for her friend’s insights and advice.
Sarah had read in the paper that Beatrice’s dream had come true and that she had married the love of her life. And somehow the Duke of Missenden had found a way to turn the scandal into a story other women sighed over.
In the end she couldn’t take it any longer and went to the duke’s residence.
Beatrice wasn’t home.
This discovery, on top of everything else, broke her. She just sank onto the steps of the front door and cried. Not great, racking sobs, but quiet tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Sarah?”
Sarah looked up and had to blink a few times to clear her vision. “Beatrice.” Now the sobs came. “I am so sorry, Bea, I had to, I had to turn away. We were in so much trouble I didn’t know what else to do. I wanted to stand for you and with you. Lord, I wanted to so much, but Father had used all the tax money. We were in so much trouble already.”
Her friend knelt before her, took her hand and pulled her to her feet. “Let’s get you inside.” She slung an arm around Sarah’s waist and helped her through the door.
Sarah thought she saw another figure behind her friend but couldn’t focus enough to care. “I wasn’t expecting you that day in the park. I wanted to be there for you.” Beatrice shushed her and guided her into a small but beautifully appointed parlor.
She sank onto the sofa, her face in her hands.
Bea gently tapped her shoulder and handed her a handkerchief. “Tea is coming. Why don’t you tell me what happened?”
Sarah studied her beautiful friend. Her eyes sparkled with happiness, her red hair curled around her face in waves and her cheeks were rosy. “You look happy.”
Bea grinned. “I am, more than I had ever thought possible.”
“You married Missenden.” The smile that lit up her friend’s face was like a stab to her chest. “How did that happen? The last time we spoke, you were on the way to climb aboard the Venia and ruin your reputation to escape your marriage to Waldon.”
“Yes. Vaughn and I reconnected und
er very unusual circumstances.”
“Then why—” Sarah had to swallow. “Why were you in Hyde Park?” Tears blurred her vision again. “Why did you look to me to be your friend when you knew it could destroy Father and me?” More tears dripped down her cheeks.
Bea’s happiness dimmed. “Because Vaughn and I were not yet ready for each other.” She looked at Sarah. “When I bumped into you in the park I was just putting pieces together after discovering something about my parents.” She shrugged. “Quite honestly, I didn’t think past my need for a friendly face.”
She took Sarah’s hand. “Once I had a chance to go over the situation I’d put you in I realized you only did what you had to. What hurt was that you didn’t come to me after my marriage had been announced. Vaughn’s mother came up with a great plan that explained everything, making me no longer the main attraction for gossip.” Her grip tightened. “But you never came.”
Sarah returned her friend’s hold. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to after what I had done. And for the last three weeks I’ve been fighting my own battles.”
Beatrice pulled her into a tight hug. “Always. No matter what, I will always need you. You will be forever welcome in my house.”
Sarah returned the hug, some of the weight lifting off her shoulders. “Thank you.”
Beatrice poured each of them a cup of tea. “Tell me about your battles.”
And she did. Sarah poured out her story, her doubts and reasoning. When she finished it was as if a mountain had been taken off her chest. She leaned back against the sofa and lifted her teacup, only to put it down with a grimace. It was cold.
Beatrice hadn’t said a word since she’d finished. Sarah finally met her gaze. “What do you think?”
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