Deception at Sable Hill

by Shelley Gray

  “Juliet did have that gown laid out. However, I changed my mind.”

  “Black lace is almost inappropriate for the occasion. Dear.”

  “But not quite,” Eloisa returned, her voice firm.

  Just as her mother was drawing in a breath to continue their pointless squabble, Owen interrupted.

  “I, too, was just informed of our partnership for the evening, Eloisa, but I must admit to being relieved. We know each other well enough to be able to relax, don’t you think? Accompanying you is my honor.”

  Ignoring her mother, she gazed at Owen and realized that she felt the same way. Owen was different from the other gentlemen of their circle. His insistence on having a job—and a dangerous one at that—created quite an aura about him. One of confidence and mystery.

  He also knew when to speak, when to gloss over things, and how to go about doing so in an unobtrusive, refined way. He was the antithesis of Sean Ryan.

  Eloisa didn’t mind Owen’s company. He was a family friend, knew Sean, and could be depended on to keep her safe in any sort of situation.

  But she still was confused as to why anyone thought she needed such protection beyond their driver, who would take her to and from the Lawrences’ home. And why Owen was looking at her in such a protective way.

  “Has something happened?”

  While Owen averted his eyes, her mother spoke up. “The Slasher has struck again.”

  “What?”

  Owen placed his hand on her waist. “Easy, now. Everything will be okay.”

  “How do you know that? How can you know that?”

  “Because you have me by your side, and I refuse to let anything happen to you.”

  Looking into his eyes, Eloisa knew Owen was being completely sincere. Though they’d never been more than friends, she trusted him implicitly. “Who was it?” she asked, pleased that she was getting her bearings again. “Who was attacked?”

  “Millicent Bond.”

  Eloisa felt dizzy. “Millicent? Is she . . . is she alive?”

  “Eloisa, control yourself,” her mother cautioned. “Millicent’s misfortune is none of your concern.”

  “Of course it is. Mother, the girls being attacked are my friends.”

  “Millicent was hardly that.”

  Eloisa inhaled sharply. “Was?”

  “Millicent didn’t survive the attack,” Owen said quietly as he wrapped his arm more tightly around her, pulling her closer to him in a way that was completely inappropriate. However, his body’s warmth served to remind her that she was not alone. As his brown eyes skimmed over her face, he frowned. “You’re not going to faint on me, are you?”

  “Of course not.” Though she was having difficulty catching her breath.

  “Forgive my familiarity, but do we need to loosen your corset?” he whispered into her ear. “Can you breathe?”

  She was tempted to admit that she was having difficulty breathing, to say she needed to summon Juliet and return to the safety of her room. She ached to retreat to someplace within herself and forget about everything. But she’d learned the hard way that leaving reality for a little bit was a double-edged sword. A few hours of blissful relief made the return to reality even harder.

  “Thank you for your concern, but I am fine.”

  “Of course she is,” her mother said, her tone now filled with ice. “Mr. Howard, I wouldn’t have thought a gentleman like you would have ever stooped so low as to start discussing such things.”

  Eloisa’s patience broke. “Mother, such things hardly matter. After all, Millicent was murdered.”

  Owen didn’t even bother to respond to her mother’s comment. Instead, he smoothly ignored her protests and escorted Eloisa to the small receiving room. After helping her to the chair, he knelt in front of her. “Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked. “I can ask your mother to summon your maid, if you wish.”

  She smiled softly. “There’s no need for that, though I’m starting to regret my choice of gowns. This one was definitely not made with comfort in mind.”

  “If it’s any consolation, please know that you do look lovely. Exquisite.”

  His kindness and compliments warmed her. She placed her gloved hand on his arm. “Owen, are you certain you aren’t needed elsewhere?”

  “You worried I can’t do my job?”

  “I’m worried that you are too much of a gentleman to cancel at such a late date.”

  “I didn’t want you to have to go out without an escort.”

  He truly was so very gallant. “How about this? How about I stay home?”

  “How about you desist in attempting to send me away?” he countered, humor lighting his eyes. “I promise you, there are several officers on the case. I know, because I was with everyone earlier. If I was needed, my captain would have requested I stay.”

  “If you’re sure.”

  “I am more than sure. Lieutenant Ryan will continue to work the investigation tonight.”

  “He’s at the scene?”

  “Ah, yes. When I told him we had this evening already planned, he said I could have some time off. I’ll catch up with him either late tonight or tomorrow morning.”

  “That sounds terribly inconvenient for you.”

  “Maybe it is for Sean.” He smiled. “For me, however, it is a stroke of luck.”

  Escorting her still didn’t seem like the best use of his time. “I am honored by your kindness, but if you need to be someplace else . . .”

  “I spoke to Sean. He and I both agree that you are a person worth looking after, Eloisa. Please let me do this.”

  Sean knew Owen was with her. He not only approved but supported it. Unaccountably, she felt disappointed. She could have sworn there was something special between them.

  “I’m only going to let you because, if you did leave, I know my mother would send me on my own.”

  Her mother stepped forward, a mixture of kindness and new resolve in her features. “Eloisa, even though you’re wearing black lace and ivory, you do look beautiful. You are on the arm of one of the most sought-after men in your circle of friends. Plus, he has the added benefit of being someone who can take care of you no matter what happens. Will you go?”

  She could sit in her room and imagine all the worst things that could have happened to her friend.

  Or she could move forward, smile, and know that no matter what happened, she wasn’t going to be either unsafe or bored on Owen Howard’s arm.

  Perhaps if she gave him half a chance, their familiar friendship would change into something deeper. Perhaps they could even fall in love.

  If her mother had arranged his escort, it was a sure sign that Owen’s suit would be accepted.

  Though she was answering her mother, her attention lay on him. “Thank you, Owen. It would be my honor to go to the dinner by your side.”

  Lifting her hand, he pressed his lips to her knuckles. She could feel the heat from his touch all the way through her satin kid gloves. “You honor me, Eloisa. Thank you.”

  And so, shortly after Worthy appeared with her black fox stole, Owen took care placing it around her shoulders. His bare fingers brushed against her bare skin, leaving chill bumps up her spine.

  When she lifted her head, she wondered if perhaps he was the one for her. Had everything with Sean merely been a dream, a chance for her to experience something more?

  A way to enable her to realize she wanted a life that encompassed more than going to balls and parties? Dare she dream that one day she could teach her daughter the very same thing?

  And now, on Owen’s arm, she realized he would be perfect for her. He knew her social class because he was of it. He knew the perimeters of her experiences because he’d experienced those very same things.

  But she also was about more than all of that.

  And, by the look in his eyes, he was also very amenable to not only continuing their friendship but taking things to another level.

  In short, if he could bear knowing w
hat Douglass Sloane had done, she had a future with Owen.

  And that, she realized, fully encompassed the Carstairs family’s last and most important rule of life: no matter what, never forget that everything generations of their family had accomplished could vanish in an instant.

  What had been always taken for granted could vanish.

  And though being Eloisa Carstairs was something of a burden, it was also all she knew.

  And was she really ready to abandon everything to experience freedom?

  She thought not.

  CHAPTER 14

  Have you ever seen the like?” Barnaby, one of the precinct’s greenest constables, asked Sean as they walked toward the illuminated entrance of the Lawrence home. “It looks like something out of a fairy tale, it does.”

  “Hardly that, Constable,” Sean muttered. “It’s simply a very big house.”

  Barnaby stopped walking. “No, it’s more.”

  Sean had to give Barnaby that. The Lawrences’ home was a beautiful structure—ornate and elegant and large enough to be referred to as a mansion. It was also a place he would never be allowed to enter under normal circumstances.

  The realization added a bit of contempt to his voice. “The family members who live here are citizens of the city, just like you and me. No better, no worse.”

  Barnaby pivoted on his heel and met Sean’s eyes. Only this time he was the one who looked far more world-weary. “Hardly that, sir. I’ve lived in these parts all my life, as did my parents. And I promise, there’s been hardly a time that anyone even wanted us north of the river, let alone out of Bridgeport. So, yes, they might be citizens of Chicago, but they’ve never been just like you and me.”

  Perhaps Barnaby wasn’t the naïve one of their pair. “Point taken.”

  And Barnaby definitely did have a point. Over the years, the gap between the haves and the have-nots in Chicago grew wider exponentially. Most men and women of the working classes didn’t look at the mansions with anything approaching awe. Instead it was with a jaundiced eye, influenced by too many years of sickness and hunger. Too many moments of being made to feel less than worthy.

  But his burgeoning friendship with Eloisa had changed that for Sean. Now when he looked at a lady dressed in fine silk and jewels, he thought of her. And now when he gazed at a large house, he couldn’t help but be glad there was a place like that for a woman like Eloisa Carstairs.

  She was too fine to live like he did.

  “It’s time we stopped our staring and got to work. Look smart, now,” he added as they started walking again, toward steps that led to the magnificently carved door lit with gas lights on each side. Clear, shiny windows lined both sides of the entrance as well, and they could see servants inside, all dressed in severe black-and-white, starched uniforms, aprons, and caps.

  And just beyond them was a kaleidoscope of colors—gorgeous women dressed in beautiful clothes, each gown likely costing more than a month’s rent for a new recruit like Barnaby.

  And perhaps even for a lieutenant detective like himself.

  They climbed the half-dozen limestone steps, the front door looming even bigger and looking more impressive. The constable raised his hand to knock but stopped himself. “You feel sure Detective Howard is inside, sir?”

  “I am sure of it.” Even if they had not agreed earlier that Owen should accompany Eloisa tonight, he and Owen had had a longstanding tradition of informing each other of their off-duty schedules. Sean smiled to himself, remembering the first time Owen had handed him a sheet of thick paper, listing his “engagements,” as he’d called them. They were the stuff of society papers and his sister Maeve’s secret dreams.

  And those engagements were far away from Sean’s list with church, parks, cheap amusements, and his mother’s address. Sean had never been the type of man to feel ashamed of his roots or his family. In fact, the complete opposite was true. He came from good stock. His father had been a decent man, his mother warm and giving.

  They’d never had much. And while he’d be lying if he pretended he had never wished for more, he’d been raised to always be thankful for God’s blessings.

  But the first time he’d held that substantial piece of stationery and read about Owen’s life, he’d been ashamed of his own rather meager existence.

  Owen, of course, had never mentioned his feelings about Sean’s activities. Not that he would. Perhaps he would never be as much the decorated, well-respected detective Sean was in the police department, but he was certainly every inch the gentleman. And therefore, he drew respect and acclaim all over the rest of the city.

  He’d been a good partner, however—one Sean felt blessed to have.

  Which is why he’d felt little to no compunction about arriving on the doorstep of the Lawrence mansion to pull Owen away from a society dinner party. They were partners, always.

  Murder always took precedence over their personal lives, and Owen would be the first to agree about that.

  “Go ahead and knock, Barnaby. Time’s a-wasting.”

  “Yes, sir.” But still he stood motionless. Barnaby, all twenty-one years of age and hailing from some farm out of the city, was indeed as green as the fields he talked so fondly about. Sean knew Barnaby would give just about anything to switch places with him.

  Sean felt for him. It was a difficult thing to confront the rich and famous in the city, especially when one didn’t even feel especially confident in the first place.

  However, he must remember that they had an important job to do. He also wanted the boy to remember that their job and duties were far more meaningful than the pursuits of most men in the upper levels of society.

  “Go on, Constable,” he fairly barked.

  “Yes, sir.” At last Barnaby rapped smartly on the door.

  Instantly it was opened by a distinguished-looking butler dressed in a well-cut black suit. If he was shocked to be opening the door to two men like them, he didn’t betray a hint of it.

  Instead, his dark-blue eyes flickered from Barnaby’s uniform to Sean’s best tweed suit before bowing slightly. “Yes?”

  “I am Constable Barnaby and this here is Lieutenant Detective Sean Ryan,” Barnaby more or less squeaked out. “We are here on police business.”

  The butler blinked. “And why are you on the premises? No one has called for you. At least not that I’m aware of.”

  Before Sean could smooth things over, Barnaby raised his voice and infused a new, stronger note of confidence in it. “Sir, I’m sorry to disturb things, but we need to see Detective Owen Howard immediately.”

  “I’m sorry, but I cannot—”

  Out of patience, Sean interrupted. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to. It’s a matter of some urgency.”

  The servant looked askance. “You’ll have to come back at a more convenient time. This is a private party.”

  To Barnaby’s credit, he straightened his shoulders and lifted his chin. “Like I said, we’re here on police business. Detective Owen is needed. Immediately.”

  The butler glared at Barnaby, then let his gaze drift to Sean. Sean met the servant’s eyes with a cold look. It was one he’d mastered at a young age when he’d learned that being seen as weak was a recipe for disaster in the schoolyard.

  Whatever the butler saw must have given him pause, because he muttered, “Come inside, then.”

  Sean was pleased to have been let in at last. After they crossed the threshold, he stared at the butler to make it clear he expected him to find Owen.

  “I will go see if Mr. Howard is available,” he snapped before turning on his heel and walking smartly into a drawing room.

  As soon as they were completely alone, Barnaby scowled. “Man’s got a bug up his frame, wouldn’t you say? He was looking at me as if I was ready to nick his silver.”

  “At least he let us inside. It was looking doubtful for a moment there,” Sean said dryly.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Almost immediately, the butler followed a gray-h
aired gentleman into the foyer. The man looked harried, like their appearance was the last thing he needed during an already-too-busy day. “Good evening. I’m Mr. Lawrence’s secretary. How might I be of assistance?”

  “You can’t,” Barnaby said.

  “Our business is not with the Lawrence household,” Sean interjected smoothly. “We’re only here to ask Detective Howard to join us. I’m sorry for the disruption, but it cannot be helped. As we already told the butler, this is a matter of some urgency.”

  “Would you care to wait in another room? Perhaps you might like some refreshments?”

  Barnaby’s eyebrows rose, though Sean wasn’t sure if he was shocked by the idea of being served while they waited or curious as to what the food would be.

  “Refreshments are unnecessary.” Sean finally lost patience. He stepped forward and glared at the butler. “We need to see Detective Howard. Now.”

  “Yes, sir.” His voice was thick with sarcasm, but he did immediately open the door to a room just to the side of the entryway. “Please wait in here. I’ll go see if Mr. Howard is available.”

  Sean stepped forward, invading the personal space even accorded a servant. “You will tell Detective Howard that Detective Lieutenant Ryan has requested that he come immediately.”

  The butler blanched. “Yes, sir.”

  Keeping his face impassive, Sean stared at the man until he turned and walked out. The secretary went with him. Less than five minutes later, Owen strode in.

  “Sean. Can’t say I’m glad to see you tonight.”

  “Can’t say I’m glad to be cooling my heels at one of your engagements,” Sean teased.

  “What happened? I thought we had everything handled with Miss Bond.”

  “Turns out there has been more than one victim tonight.”

  When the butler inhaled sharply, Sean said, “We had best be going. I’ll fill you in on the way.”

  “Was it the Slasher?” Owen’s expression was intense, and he already looked prepared to hear the worst.

  “Looks like that.”

  Turning to the butler, he raised his chin. “I’ll need my topcoat and hat, if you please.”

  To Sean’s amusement, the butler bowed deferentially. “Right away, sir. And please, let me know how I might be of any further service.”