Of course she could not stay in San Francisco. Liam had already given the matter careful consideration, and he knew where to send her. Somewhere she’d be safe, and could live her life as she wished. Once he made his offer, he knew she’d see the benefits of it. His ranch in Napa would suit her far better than the jungle.
In the meantime she was secure at the Palace—guarded, of course, because he knew how rash she could be. He couldn’t have her running about the city, for her sake as well as his own.
Dealing with Mac would have to wait until morning. And there would be no seeing Caroline tonight, whatever the urgency. He’d spoken with the man Chen had mentioned in the message, and plans for the raid had already begun. Such opportunities had to be seized as they came. They waited on no man’s convenience, least of all Liam O’Shea’s.
At least he could do his work tonight free of the certainty of Perry’s guilt. Or Mac’s.
He turned the knob and pushed open the door. Almost at once a barrage of barking, both high-pitched and low, echoed through the entrance hall. Norton was first to arrive, his long ropey tail beating the air. Bummer the Second scrambled in pursuit, claws skittering on the parquet floor and displacing the carpet runner.
Liam caught Norton’s enormous paws halfway to his shoulders. “Well, boy, I see you still haven’t learned your manners.”
The Irish wolfhound answered with a wet slap of his tongue across Liam’s jaw. Bummer danced around his legs, his terrier’s eyes bright with a plea for attention. Liam eased Norton back to the ground, crouched, and braced himself as Bummer jumped into his lap with a joyful yip.
“And you, imp of hell. Have you been driving Chen mad with your antics?”
Bummer wriggled, and Norton rolled over majestically to present his lean belly for rubbing. Liam stroked the wiry coat. “And well you’re named,” he told the wolfhound. “The emperor would have approved.”
Norton yawned. Bummer launched himself from Liam’s arms and dashed full speed at the man entering the hall from the rear of the house.
“Mr. O’Shea.” Chen had only a moment to nod before Bummer began performing fantastic acrobatic leaps about his soft-shod feet. “Welcome home.”
Liam rose, nudging Norton gently with the toe of his boot. “Thanks, Chen.” He watched Chen scold the terrier in quiet Cantonese, earning rare obedience from the dog. “I went to see our contact, as you advised. Everything is set for tonight.”
Chen was accustomed to Liam’s lack of ceremony. His serene expression didn’t change, but Liam saw the concern in his eyes. “And the matter of your expedition with Mr. Sinclair?”
“That’s a long story. You knew something was wrong when I didn’t return with Perry?”
“Indeed. When I observed that some aspect of your plan had gone amiss, I alerted our friend in the Gresham household to be particularly watchful. I knew you would want a full report of all unusual activities when you returned.”
Liam relaxed. Chen had been as efficient as always; he’d expected Liam to come home. “I’ve seen Miss Gresham, briefly. What do you have to report?”
“During the week since Mr. Sinclair’s return,” Chen said, “Miss Gresham has been to two parties, one ball, and one outing to the park, each in the company of Mr. Sinclair.”
No less than Liam had expected. “And Mrs. Hunter?”
“Has apparently been present, though indisposed, during all meetings in the Gresham home. There has been no activity or conversation worthy of undue concern, according to the reports I received.”
So Perry had made good use of Liam’s absence, but he hadn’t pushed too far. Apparently he hadn’t felt ready to press his suit. Time had run out for Perry sooner than he expected.
“Very good,” Liam said. “I’ll take care of the rest.” He turned his thoughts to the more pressing problem. “As for the raid, send a message to our friends in Chinatown. We’ll meet in the usual place at midnight, and be ready to move by one.”
“I will begin immediately.” Chen stepped over Bummer and took Liam’s hat, turning to signal down the hall as he did. A petite and pretty Chinese girl in a silk tunic emerged from the servants’ quarters, smiling shyly.