Chapter Thirty-Nine

The carriage wheels clattered to a halt on the dirt road in front of the warehouse on the West Indian South Docks and Kat’s eyes automatically surveyed the area, noting the empty buildings along the abandoned section of the wharf.

To her right was the warehouse and to her left the river, with the road etched between. Up ahead, beside the river, was a wooden dock that had definitely seen better days. It stretched perhaps a hundred feet into the water, though there were no boats docked, just a dilapidated wooden building at the dock’s entrance.

The isolation, combined with the lack of workers, made the area a perfect place for an ambush, which was why Kat had dropped Daisy and their footman off a few blocks away, to keep her protected. Kat wasn’t simply going to walk into a trap and bring the only bargaining chip she had with her. And though Daisy had been prepared to sacrifice herself for her son, Kat refused to allow her to.

It was a strategy certain to anger the Chameleon but would buy Kat some much-needed time to assess the situation and bargain with the man, which in turn would hopefully provide her with an opportunity to kill him first, before allowing him to further destroy everything else she held dear.

Pushing open the carriage door, Kat stepped onto the rough ground beneath, her black boots finding purchase, while her head darted right and then left, but there were no signs of anyone.

The chill breeze blowing across the Thames onto the land sent a swift shiver of apprehension along her spine. The day was turning dark as the grey clouds overhead travelled swiftly in from the west, bringing with them an ominous sign of an impending storm. A slight tickle of fear for Samuel began to creep into her throat again, and she had to push it down into the abyss with all her might. She had to stay focused. Sam’s life depended on it.

Kat smacked the wood of the carriage door closed, and her driver drove the carriage away as she’d instructed him to, while she swiveled in a circle, her gaze taking in everything.

The place appeared abandoned, even though she’d made it there within the designated time period, but she still got the sense she was being watched. Her eyes drifted up to the roof of the two-story building across from her, and then back to the small building by the dock. If she were the Chameleon, she’d have positioned herself in one of the two buildings, with a direct view of where Kat was standing now.

In fact, she was counting on it.

The water of the river hummed in the background, as did some distant hammering, but there were no sounds within the immediate vicinity. Damn it, she was getting impatient to get this over with. Every further minute didn’t assist Sam. “Well, I’m here, as directed,” she yelled across the empty space, hoping to draw her nemesis out. Her eyes scanned over the windows of the warehouse, wishing to see a sign of something, or of someone. “Haven’t you had enough of hiding? Don’t you want to reveal yourself?”

“But I already have revealed myself to you,” a soft and sultry voice said, carried along on the breeze to Kat’s left. “You just didn’t know it at the time.”

Spinning around, Kat saw a woman with blonde hair step out from behind the building beside the dock and slowly walk toward her. There was a smile on the woman’s blood red lips, which matched the red splatters staining some strands of the woman’s hair. She came to a stop about fifteen feet from Kat. It took Kat a moment to see beyond the blonde hair, to recognize the woman who now stood in front of her.

“Lady Brighthope.” A hollow sense of inevitability struck low in the pit of Kat’s stomach, as things began to make an absurd sort of sense. “You’re the Chameleon.”

The woman who had bumped into Victor at the railway station before he was killed. The waiter at the theater who had been slight of stature. The fact that no man could be identified as the assassin. Everyone had assumed the assassin was male, Kat included. And considering people had always underestimated Kat herself because of her gender, she of all people should have known better than to make assumptions.

No wonder the Chameleon was called a ghost—no one had been looking for a woman.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you properly, and allow you to see my true self.” Brighthope curtsied, wearing trousers just like Kat’s and seeming far too confident and in control than Kat would have liked her to be. “I thought you of all people would appreciate what I have accomplished, and how I have fooled everyone into thinking the Chameleon was a man. It’s made things a great deal easier over the years. I managed to fool Westwood and Cantfield earlier today. It was thrilling as I thought they may have recognized me, even with the blonde wig, but they didn’t. Men are so easy to fool, aren’t they?” The woman pulled off the wig with a flourish.

“If you’ve hurt Marcus, I swear your death will be long and painful.” Everything inside her rebelled at the possibility he could be hurt.

Brighthope lifted her dainty shoulders. “I didn’t harm him. He’s not on my list and though he might be hunting me, he hasn’t threatened me yet, so there’s no need to kill him, for now. All he and Cantfield did was burst in on me only moments after I’d killed Mr. Morriset. I already had a plan in place in case I was interrupted, so I improvised, as I always do, and began wailing over the man’s body, pretending to be his widow.

“They bought the act completely, and when they rushed out the back chasing the supposed assassin, I got away. It was all too easy, considering I’d very nearly been caught red-handed.” She paused and smiled. “I did wish, though, that I could have stayed hidden somewhere and observed their faces when they realized they’d been fooled, but alas, I had this meeting of ours to attend.”

“Where’s Samuel?” Kat asked, relief flooding her that Marcus was safe.

“Your bluntness is something I’ve always admired,” Brighthope replied with a slight laugh. “You should consider joining me. You’d make an excellent assassin. Not only do you have the skills, but just like me, no one would suspect you. It’s the perfect profession for women trained as we have been. I could teach you everything I know.”

“I intend to kill you, not join you.”

“I know you do,” Brighthope said, sounding delighted. “Why else do you think I revealed myself to you?”

“Why did you?”

“For too long I’ve been so bored with the world. Killing has become too easy for me, but then I became aware of you, and now I can’t help but wonder which of us is better? I’ve never met an equal to me before, but perhaps I have with you, and I am intrigued.”

“You kidnapped Samuel simply to see if you could best me?” Kat was sure the scorn she felt was apparent in her voice.

Brighthope shrugged daintily. “I also need to kill your aunt, of course, and that residence of yours is far too fortified to get into, so I needed you to bring her here, but I knew you’d need an incentive to come.”

“You got into my residence earlier and murdered my butler, so it can’t be all that fortified.” The rage, the devastation, and the grief over Fenton’s senseless death threatened to overwhelm her. Standing in front of her was the woman who’d taken both Victor and Fenton from her. In a few seconds, Kat could grab her dagger and fling it into the woman’s heart and end her. And perhaps end the unrelenting ache of pain, too. But she’d promised Marcus she wouldn’t. Not yet, anyhow.

“I wouldn’t do that if I was you,” Brighthope said, her eyes glancing down to where Kat’s fingers inched closer to the dagger strapped to her leg. “I have a man watching from the building who is under strict instructions to slit the boy’s throat if anything happens to me. In any event, I did not kill your butler.”

The words were like a bucket of ice over Kat’s head. “Yes, you did. You shot him, earlier today. A bullet to his chest.”

“I’ve killed Danbury and Morriset today,” Brighthope replied. “My schedule has been far too busy to add your butler to my list.”

“I don’t understand, you had to have killed him…” If it wasn’t the Chameleon, who else could have killed Fenton?

“I didn’t, I assure you. Though I did have a man, the one who took the boy, watching your residence earlier today.” Her very posture and gaze seemed to radiate truthfulness. But she was a good actress, though Kat was inclined to believe her, because why would she lie? “Whoever killed your butler did me a favor by spooking the boy, sending him fleeing into the waiting arms of my man.”

“Where’s Samuel?” Kat asked, returning to the most important question.

Brighthope laughed. “There’s that bluntness of yours again. I adore it.” She whistled shrilly and a door to the warehouse on Kat’s right creaked opened. A short and burly man appeared in the doorway, holding a pistol in one hand while his other clutched Samuel’s upper arm like a vice.

It took nearly all of Kat’s self-control to stop herself from running over to him. “Are you all right, Sam?” she yelled across to him.

Samuel nodded his head, his eyes wide and skin pale, but there was a hint of determination in his stubborn little jaw which Kat took comfort in. Sam was a Montrose, and like all Montrose’s, stubbornness and grit were built into his very core. And though obviously scared, he wasn’t broken, either physically or mentally. Thank goodness.

“Now, disarm yourself carefully.” Brighthope glanced at Kat’s dagger and pistol strapped to her trousers. “And if you try anything, my man will kill the boy.”

Slowly, Kat drew out both her daggers from their sheaths and threw them several feet behind her, cringing at the loss. Then she unholstered her pistol and tossed it toward the daggers. She felt naked without her weapons.

“Good. Now, I’ve kept my side of the bargain,” Brighthope all but purred. “But it seems you haven’t, my dear, for I do not see Lady Montrose with you. And that was the precondition to getting the boy back.” Her head flicked over to Samuel and the man. “Take him back inside and wait for me in there.”

The man stepped back into the space with Samuel and closed the door behind them.

“I’m disappointed you didn’t heed my warning, for you know I do not bluff. I have a reputation I must maintain or else my name will not instill the fear or the financial reward it currently does. You were meant to bring her to me.” There was a hard edge to the woman’s words and Kat could tell she was angry. “Where is she?”

“Samuel is not on your list,” Kat said. “Let him go. He’s an innocent child.”

“Then you should have bought your aunt with you.”

“She’s in the vicinity and when Samuel is safe she will attend here.”

The woman arched a brow at Kat. “If I release the boy to you, there’s no way you will risk your aunt. Although, perhaps you will, if you know the full truth.”

Kat blinked as a tightness started to ball in her chest. “What do you mean, full truth?”

A slow smile split the woman’s lips and she took a step closer to Kat, stopping short of arm’s length. “Let me tell you a little secret regarding your uncle’s death. Though it’s true I killed him, and I would’ve done so regardless of getting paid to or not—”

“That’s no secret.” Kat narrowed her eyes at the woman. “My uncle was getting too close to discovering your true identity, wasn’t he?”

The woman actually laughed. “He wasn’t close at all. I wanted him dead because at the time I believed he was responsible for killing my sister, Irena.”

Irena? Nathaniel had been in love with a woman called Irena. “The bomb blast in Paris? When my uncle was hunting Nathaniel Black? That Irena?”

Brighthope’s eyes tightened at the corners. “Yes. She was my younger sister who got caught up in this world of intrigue when she met Nathaniel Black and fell in love with him. I warned her against fleeing with him, after I’d assisted his superior in framing him as a traitor. But she didn’t listen to me and ran off with him to Paris, where your uncle hunted them down at the War Office’s request, and set the bomb that killed them both.”

The woman took in a deep breath. “My beautiful baby sister was killed. Surely, you of all people can understand why I wanted to kill your uncle. That I had to avenge my sister, just as you want to avenge your uncle by killing me. It’s the same, is it not?”

“No. It’s not the same at all.” The thought wound around in her head, trying to find traction but slipping into nothingness.

“It’s exactly the same!” Brighthope hissed. “I wanted vengeance for my sister’s death. You want vengeance for your uncle and intend to kill me to obtain it. How is that any different than me killing your uncle? Who is in the right? I was avenging my sister, and you are trying to avenge your uncle. We’re the same, you and I, as much as you might pretend otherwise. Your intention is to attain justice with my death, just as mine was, even though I was paid for it, too.”

“We’re nothing alike, you and I.” Though Kat couldn’t help but think that perhaps they were. Had she become so lost in her desire for vengeance? “Besides, my uncle wasn’t responsible for planting the bomb that killed your sister. He would never have jeopardized innocent lives like that.”

“I know that now,” Brighthope conceded. “Turns out the one responsible was Lord Newtown who was carrying out orders at the behest of Sir Albert. But as you know I’ve taken care of Newtown, with your help, of course. You left me in his library, and I knew that’s where Newtown would be sent for his safety after I ordered Matthew to create chaos at the ball. It was so easy to slip the poison into his decanter, which I knew he wouldn’t resist having a drink from.”

“Sir Albert is the traitor, not Sir William?”

“Yes. Who would have thought such a portly little man was the one selling secrets to the Russians, and framing Nathaniel Black for it. And now trying to frame Sir William. He’s a dastardly little fellow who paid me to seduce Westwood’s wife to retrieve the intelligence Westwood held in his safe regarding the Afghan border negotiations.”

“You were the countess’s lover?”

“The poor lady was so starved of affection from that cold fish, Westwood, it was all too easy to seduce her. In fact, I think she was rather thrilled with such an illicit liaison with another woman, having never been with a woman before. She was far too easy to manipulate and use to obtain access to the information Westwood was collating.”

“Which you sold to the Russians?”

“Actually, Sir Albert hired me and then sold on that information to the Russians with my assistance. Though, of course, he didn’t know he was hiring me, as he has no clue who the Chameleon is.”

“And he was the one who arranged Victor’s death?”

“He did. He is also the man now paying me to kill all those who present a threat to revealing the truth of his past. But don’t worry.” The Chameleon shrugged. “I’ve added him to my list, too. The fool has no idea who I am, or that Irena was my sister. He will pay for ordering the bomb that killed her. I shall have great fun killing him, which I would have done years ago if I’d known the truth.”

“Why did Sir Albert frame Nathaniel? Surely, he would have known Westwood would never believe such a thing and hunt down those responsible for his brother’s death.”

“It was my suggestion to frame Nathaniel.” The woman pressed her lips together. “He’d stolen my sister from me by convincing her to run away with him, so he had to pay, and what better way for a man than to have his honor destroyed. Which is what I shall do with Sir Albert’s before killing him.” She pulled out an envelope and tossed it at Kat’s feet. “Evidence that proves Sir Albert’s treachery and will exonerate Nathaniel Black.”

Confusion rolled over her. “Why are you giving this to me?”

“Your friend’s father owns a newspaper.” The Chameleon smiled at her. “When she finds your body, she will ensure her father publishes it. It’s rather salacious.”

“You’re confident things will go your way.” She didn’t know whether to admire the woman’s confidence or deplore it.

“I am,” she purred. “Because you’ll be far too distracted by the truth to win against me.”

“The truth?”

“Yes,” Brighthope said. “Haven’t you ever wondered who paid to have your uncle killed?”

“You said Sir Albert arranged it.”

“He did, but he was only an intermediary, brokering the assassination.” Brighthope’s eyes were wide. “The one truly responsible for Victor Montrose’s death was his dear wife.”

Kat’s whole world stilled. “Daisy?”

“Yes.” There was a glance of perhaps compassion on the woman’s face as she stared at Kat. “Who else had the most to gain from his death?”

“No, that’s not true. Daisy didn’t pay to have him killed.” Brighthope was toying with her, trying to get her to hand over Daisy so she could kill her. “You’re a liar.”

“Oh, I do regularly lie, that is true, but for what little it’s worth, I promise you I’m not lying about your aunt.” Brighthope paused. “I can see perhaps the truth is finally starting to penetrate your denials. Hand over your aunt and I will kill her for you, then justice will be served for your uncle. Both of us shall be happy.”

“No, you’re lying.” She had to be lying. But in the recesses of Kat’s heart it was all starting to make a sick sort of sense, and part of her was beginning to desperately fear that Brighthope might in fact be telling the truth. Surely, Daisy wouldn’t have paid to have Victor killed?

“Don’t believe me, then.” Brighthope shifted her weight onto her back leg. “But it will be at your peril.”

Suddenly, the woman sprung at her, drawing a knife from her pocket simultaneously and aiming it at Kat’s throat. Pivoting backward, Kat blocked the woman’s hand with her forearm, concurrently twisting and launching a spinning kick at the Chameleon’s waist.

The woman anticipated the move and twisted to the side before spinning around with the knife held out in front of her. She grinned at Kat. “Oh, you are good. But I’ve had years more experience, my darling.” She rushed at Kat, knife held steady.

Instead of pivoting away, Kat dove forward, slightly to the side, using the momentum of her legs to knock the woman’s feet out from under her, sending Brighthope headfirst to the ground, her knife clattering to the side. Dust flew up around them as Kat jumped to her feet while Brighthope did a roll and came crouching up to stand.

The woman was fast and agile, and for the first time, Kat doubted her skills. Was she a fool to think she could beat a woman who’d been killing others for years? But with little time to think any other thoughts, the woman rushed at her again, launching into a front kick as she got close.

Kat blocked Brighthope’s leg with her forearm and landed a swift counterstrike to the woman’s ribs with her fist. Brighthope grunted, but elbowed Kat in the shoulder, knocking her slightly off balance.

For several minutes, they parried back and forth, striking and blocking each other’s arms and legs. Both trained in Eastern fighting techniques, and both an equal match. They came perilously close to the dock edge and the water at one point, but Kat swiveled away, and they parried closer to the road, though kept straying back along the edge.

Kat’s focus was on the woman in front of her as sweat beaded on her forehead while she tried to outthink her with each step. Going on instinct, Kat let Brighthope’s next kick connect with her legs and knock her to the ground. Brighthope immediately pounced on top of her, holding another knife she must have drawn from a hidden pocket or holster. Kat didn’t flinch as Brighthope waved the blade in front of her.

“You are good.” Brighthope panted heavily. “But I’m better.”

Before Brighthope could blink, Kat flicked her hips up and threw Brighthope to the side, landing on top of her and grabbing the knife from the woman’s hand.

She found herself holding the blade against the woman’s throat. Revenge was hers. With the lightest twist of her wrist, she could have her vengeance against Victor’s killer and end Brighthope here and now. She could kill the woman who’d already killed so many. She could finally protect her family and see justice done.

“Do it,” Brighthope urged. “Kill me. I know you have it in you. I’ve seen death in your eyes.”

For a minute, Kat fought with her inner demons. She’d longed, even dreamed of this moment. The thought of killing Victor’s murderer had been a constant one in her mind ever since Victor’s death, but now that the moment was here, she wasn’t so certain anymore.

Yes, she had killed before, but that had been in self-defense. This would be murder.

“Do it!” Brighthope yelled. “You’re just like me. Embrace the darkness inside you and become what you are meant to be.”

It was then Kat knew to the depths of her being that though she may have killed in the past, and had intended to kill the Chameleon, she was not a killer. She wouldn’t be brought down to Brighthope’s level. “I am nothing like you. I choose to be nothing like you, and that is what makes us different.” Slowly, she stood and stepped away from the assassin. “Marcus was right. Justice for you will be you spending the rest of your life in a cold, damp, dark cell, paying for the crimes you’ve committed. That will be a much greater punishment instead of a swift death. Now get up.”

Brighthope got to her feet and grinned. “My man still has Samuel, darling girl. You might want to drop your dagger before his finger gets twitchy, thinking something may happen to me.”

“Is he safe?” Kat glanced behind Brighthope to where Daisy now stood.

“He is. Our men are taking him home and will then return for us.”

Brighthope swung her head around to Daisy and then back to Kat. “What did you do?”

Kat took in a deep breath. “While I occupied you with fighting, my coach driver and footman entered the warehouse and knocked out your man, saving Samuel. Daisy was waiting to give me word he was safe.”

“You outwitted me?” There was shock pasted on the woman’s face. “How did you even know beforehand I’d have him on site here, in the warehouse?”

“It’s what I would have done. And though I might not have known your identity, I knew what the Chameleon would have done.” Kat shrugged. “I anticipated you and distracted you to save my family.”

“Well, aren’t you clever. But how clever will you be dealing with your aunt?” The Chameleon grinned. “Are you going to let her get away with murder? Because though she may not have pulled the trigger, she did pay to have your uncle killed.”

A shot rang out in the still air and Brighthope jolted forward, collapsing onto her front, a bullet hole in her back, blood slowly seeping from it.

Kat stared across at Daisy, who held a smoking pistol in her hands, which she now aimed directly at Kat.