by Shelley Gray
His gaze was so intense, she was sure an explosive could be set off behind him and he still wouldn’t blink. “Tell me.”
“Some of the men were from the fair. Others new to Chicago. Men with a great deal of money, eager to spend it, to make a grand entrance.” Weighing her words, she continued quietly. “Make a statement.”
“Did you know these men?”
She shook her head. “I am comfortable with few men.”
“Yet you came down here by yourself. Unescorted,” he bit out.
“Coming here was different.” She took a deep breath, intending to tell him more about why it was different, but she couldn’t find the words to tell him that she’d instinctively known she would feel safe around him. That she was sure he would make her safe.
As her words lay between them, sinking, his gaze turned hard. Accusing. “That is your explanation?”
It wasn’t, but what else could she say? Helplessly, she shrugged.
His eyes narrowed. “Does your mother know you are here?”
“Of course not.”
“Did you tell anyone of your plans? If, God forbid, something happened to you on your way here, would anyone have known you were on your way to see me?”
Of course she hadn’t told anyone. Her parents would have forbidden her to see Sean, even with an escort. And if she’d told Juliet, her maid would have felt honor bound to tell someone. Otherwise she would be let go.
Unfortunately, her elusiveness was disturbing to him. His expression grew colder as he shook his head. “Miss Carstairs, I have to say that at the moment, you are not making any sense at all. It seems you are determined to traipse around the city in some twisted need for excitement.”
Twisted? “Definitely not.”
“Instead of helping me, you have only given me more to worry about.” He glared. “On a silver platter.”
“That isn’t fair.”
“By coming here unescorted, you have yourself in a precarious spot. A perilous situation.”
“No one downstairs was anything but respectful, Lieutenant.”
“Correction. They were respectful to your face, Eloisa. No doubt they had much to say behind your back.”
She rolled her eyes. “You make it sound as if no other men and women do the same thing.”
“Don’t pretend to be so naïve. We both know you are governed by a different set of rules.”
She thought they’d moved beyond such things. That they’d moved beyond merely thinking of each other in terms of their social standings.
What had happened? When he’d escorted her to Hope House he seemed to understand her need to be around other people, in a way very few people ever did. But now? Now it seemed they were once again strangers.
His dissension hurt. Stung. “Why are you so angry with me?”
“I’m sorry. I’m not angry, I am worried. I know it isn’t my place to tell you this, but I wish you would take more precautions. You should be staying home where it is safe.”
“Don’t you understand, Sean? That is exactly how I have been passing the past few weeks. Living in fear, reliving what Douglass did to me.”
He visibly flinched. “I would give most anything to have spared you that. But don’t you understand that what happened should have made you even more aware of the dangers around you?”
“Living the way others want me to is how I’ve lived my entire life! I don’t wish to do that anymore. If I have a question, I want to be able to ask it.”
“There are different ways to go about that. You should have waited until I paid you a call.”
“You want me to sit at home until you have a spare moment for me? To stare out the window waiting like a child?”
“If that is how you choose to characterize it, yes.”
Stunned and hurt and more than a little confused by his tone, Eloisa sprang to her feet. “I thought you were different. I thought we were different. I thought we were friends.”
He straightened. “We cannot be friends.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m Irish, Eloisa. Because I’m working class. Because my family built canals and railroads and worked in the stockyards while yours financed them. Because each of your evening gowns likely costs more than I earn in a month.”
“Those things don’t matter.”
“They most certainly do.” He held up his hands, as if they were stained beyond repair.
“Those things don’t define you.”
His head jerked. “Eloisa—”
“Just as my parents and their house do not define me, your family and home do not define everything you are. You are more than that.” She bit her lip. “At least I thought you were.”
“That is true. But their personalities and circumstances aren’t more than a stone’s throw away from who I am. We can’t live in a narrow tunnel pretending things we don’t like don’t affect us.” Quietly, he added, “If I’ve led you to believe I would welcome such familiarity from you, I am very sorry.”
She stared at him in mortification. Not knowing what to say. No longer having any idea of what she should do.
Luckily, the sound of heavy footsteps and the rattle of the door opening broke the silence.
She turned to see Owen Howard striding forward. “Eloisa?” he asked, his eyes searching her out. When they connected, his voice softened. “Dear, you’ve given me such a fright. Why are you here?”
“Owen.” Seeing his kind expression, tears pricked her eyes. “Owen, I’m so glad to see you.”
He reached her side in an instant, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Darling, what is it?” Darting a lethal glance Sean’s way, he murmured, “You are overwrought.” He pulled her into his arms, wrapping her in a reassuring hug.
Making her realize that had been the real reason she’d come to the police station. The real reason she’d wanted to see Sean Ryan. She’d needed the comfort of a warm embrace.
“Oh, Owen,” she murmured as he pulled her closer. And his reassuring hand on the back of her neck, the feel of his arm around her shoulders, made the tears fall and all her fears no longer at bay.
After a few moments, he pulled away. Then he gently wiped away the tear tracks that stained her cheeks with a pressed handkerchief that smelled of cologne. “May I get you some tea?”
“No, thank you. I need to leave.” Unable to stop herself, she glared at Sean. “I realize now that I never should have come.”
“Please, let me escort you home.”
Seeing Sean’s face set in a careful, hard mask, she nodded and edged closer to Owen. “Would you mind?” she whispered. “I know you have a lot to do . . .” She’d tell him outside the station that she needed to return to Hope House instead.
“There is nothing more important than your safety, my dear.” He winked. “Besides, I do believe walking by your side will make me the envy of every man here.”
“Owen, even now you are a shameless flirt.”
“It’s not flirting if my feelings are genuine. I promise, I cannot think of a better use of my time than seeing you safely home.”
She smiled at his words. Looked into his eyes, saw a delicious warmth in them. And a tenderness too. So different than the caustic, bossy, guarded Sean Ryan. “Thank you.”
As she moved to the door, Owen turned to Sean. “Will you be here when I return?”
“If I’m not, I’ll leave word where I am.” His cool tone matched Owen’s.
“Very well,” Owen replied before placing a firm hand on the small of her back and guiding her out. “Let’s go, dear.”
Eloisa smiled at him gratefully as he led her through the stacks of papers on the floor, the mismatched chairs, and the rickety-looking side table stained an unfortunate shade of brown.
She exited the office and made sure she didn’t look back once. She also knew she didn’t really need to know what was happening between the two men. Both were policemen. One was of her social standing—one was definitely not. Both seemed
concerned about her, but only one seemed to know how to communicate that without scaring her.
One she was comfortable with. The other? He was the last thing she thought about when she went to sleep at night and the first thing she thought about when she woke up in the morning.
One man was safe; the other was not. But she realized, too, that she’d only run to one of them when she was afraid.
She was very sure Sean Ryan was still standing motionless. Glaring at her. And making her wish she’d never, ever considered being alone with him.
Hopefully she wouldn’t make that same mistake again.
CHAPTER 17
You are certainly in a mood,” Maeve declared as she bustled around his kitchen, making him a fresh pot of tea.
“Can’t always be walking around with a grin plastered on my face,” Sean replied, not even attempting to curb his sarcasm.
She was making tea and bread-and-butter sandwiches. Sitting on another chair, but looking far more thoughtful, was Katie. As he gazed at his youngest sibling, Sean again couldn’t help but feel proud of her. Katie was the beauty of the Ryan family, and also had a more polished air about her than any of them. It was likely because by the time she was born his family had moved away from the rickety apartment and into a small house in a far nicer neighborhood. She’d also gotten the opportunity to get some schooling, so she had been reading at a young age. He hadn’t learned until he was twelve or thirteen. Maeve still was basically illiterate.
But Katie? She was their light. Smart and lovely. His parents expected great things for her. As far as he could tell, however, she wasn’t sure what she wanted.
Night and day from the way their Maeve looked at the world. Long ago she had made it her duty to tell everyone what she wanted, what she thought. At the moment he was in her sights. She stilled as she was slathering a thick piece of bread with butter. “Was work really as bad as all that?”
It really had been. His whole day had been filled with a million moments of regret for the callous way he’d behaved toward Eloisa. Coupled with everyone in the precinct’s interest in Eloisa’s appearance in their midst, their meeting behind closed doors, followed by Owen Howard’s careful escort out of the building, Sean had gotten next to no momentary break from all things Eloisa.
To make matters worse, after Owen returned, the two of them found it necessary to return to Miss Redmond’s house. The twelve hours following the notification of their daughter’s death had, of course, not been kind to her family. Her father looked haggard, her mother pale and extremely fragile. And though Sean had informed dozens of family members about loved ones’ deaths, there had been something worse about this family.
Added to the difficult situation was the unusual, new tension that had sprung up between him and Owen. Owen hadn’t come right out and said anything, but Sean knew his partner was displeased about his treatment of Eloisa.
To top it off, there now seemed to be something new brewing between Owen and Eloisa. In the last year that they’d worked together, Sean couldn’t remember Owen ever mentioning the beautiful Eloisa Carstairs, not even in passing.
But this afternoon, Owen had been intent on making sure he reminded Sean that only he had been able to ease her fears, not Sean. That he had been the one to escort her home, not Sean.
And though it was exactly as it should be—after all, hadn’t he very firmly reminded Eloisa that she should not be having anything to do with him?—he knew now that he and Eloisa could never even be friends. He was honest enough with himself to admit that seeing the way Owen had comforted her had been physically difficult to witness. Every nerve inside of him had felt about ready to snap in pain. It had taken everything he had to remain passive and distant and not glare when Owen had wiped the tears from Eloisa’s cheeks.
The tears he knew he’d put there.
By the time he worked through the new stacks of paperwork Sergeant Fuller had placed there, the last bit of restraint he’d been holding was stretched perilously tight.
When he’d walked in the door of his small home, all he’d wanted to do was eat some leftover soup and attempt to forget about everything. But no less than fifteen minutes after he’d gotten home, Maeve and Katie appeared. Then Maeve began bustling in his kitchen like she owned the place, even though they lived a good ten blocks from each other.
Of course, that wouldn’t be difficult to do. He barely knew how to do much more than make toast and tea.
“I’m only in a mood because I am not in the mood for company. You shouldn’t come over here uninvited.” Looking at Katherine Jean, who was staring at him with wide eyes, he murmured, “No offense to you, Katie.”
“None taken,” she said with a small grin. “Though Maeve is right. You do seem fairly disconcerted today.”
“Disconcerted, hmm? That’s a new word.”
Maeve rolled her eyes. “She’s doing that a lot these days, throwing out words we all have to guess the meaning of.”
Katie tucked her chin. “I’m trying to improve my vocabulary. There is nothing wrong with that.”
“Of course there isn’t.” He was proud of her. He even knew that, secretly, Maeve was too. “Any special reason you are working on your vocabulary?”
“Simply trying to improve myself.”
“Ah.”
“She went in the Women’s Pavilion and started getting all sorts of ideas,” Maeve explained with a sniff. “I told her all she needs to be doing is keeping herself out of trouble until the right man comes along.”
“All anyone talks about anymore is my future husband.”
“It is about that time. Most girls are getting married at your age,” he murmured. As much as he wanted his sister to remain a young girl, he was enough of a pragmatist to realize that those days were long gone.
Katie met his gaze with a definite look of disdain. “Like that is all I’ve got to think about.”
He wondered what else she was thinking of, but knew better than to ask her in front of Maeve.
Sean stood up and took his cup of tea from Maeve’s hands. “Thanks for this.” After taking a fortifying sip, he smiled. “You make a good cuppa, for sure, Maeve.”
She sat down. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ll be glad about that.”
Her sweet words brought him what he was sure was his first smile of the day. “Maeve, you better be careful. If you keep talking like that, I’m going to have to tell Jack that you do have a fair share of sweet words in that thick head of yours.”
“You’d better not even think about doing something like that. He’ll walk all over me, he will.”
Katie giggled. “Nah. He’d only call Sean a liar. You know your man doesn’t think you’re ever sweet, Maeve.”
“I’m not that bad,” Maeve retorted, though her lips twitched.
“Sure you are,” Katie teased.
Sean bit back a bark of laughter, but only succeeded in half choking. “I wouldn’t blame him, neither. I’d say anything I could to make sure Maeve didn’t let loose her temper on me.”
“Jack O’Connell knows I love him.”
“And he also knows the wrath of your temper,” he quipped just as an impatient rap sounded at his front door.
“You sit here, I’ll get it, brother,” Katie said as she trotted out of the kitchen.
Thinking it was his elderly neighbor, wanting to sit in front of the fire for a few minutes and chat, he called out, “Tell Jeremy I’m not up for company tonight.”
“Sean, it isn’t Jeremy,” Katie called back. “It’s Detective Howard.”
There was enough worry in her voice that Sean leapt to his feet. “Owen, what’s happened?” he asked as he ran into the front room and grabbed his jacket off the back of his couch.
“Nothing alarming.”
Sean looked at him in surprise. “Aren’t you here on business?”
Owen glanced at Katie, then shook his head. “No, but we can do this later. I didn’t realize you had company.” Glancing Katie’s way
again, he said, “Please forgive the interruption.”
“It’s nothing. Only my sisters.”
“Thanks, Sean,” Maeve said from the doorway leading into the kitchen.
“Owen, this is my sister Maeve, Maeve O’Connell.”
He inclined his head. “Ma’am.”
Sean continued. “And you know Katie, of course.”
Katie smiled prettily. “It’s nice to see you, Detective Howard.”
Behind him, Maeve inhaled sharply, though whether she was finding fault with Katie being so forward with a gentleman or to a policeman, he wasn’t sure.
And to Sean’s further dismay, Owen bowed slightly. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Miss Ryan.”
Maeve entered the room and raised her eyebrows. Sean felt like doing the same. He had no idea Katie even possessed such pretty manners. But then, as he noticed Owen doing everything he could to look anywhere but stare at his sister, Sean took things into his own hands.
“How about some tea? My sisters and I were just sitting in the kitchen.”
“Actually, I think we’d best be leaving,” Maeve said. “Katie, let’s go.”
“Oh. Yes, of course.” After darting another shy look at Owen, Katie hugged Sean good-bye. “I love you, Sean.”
Pressing his lips to her cheek, he murmured, “I love you too. Stay out of trouble.”
After a quick, sidelong glance at Owen, Katie glared at him. “I’m not a child, Sean.”
“I am discovering that, Katherine Jean. Thanks again for the tea and fresh bread and butter, Maeve,” he added as she led Katie out the door.
“Get some sleep now.” Looking at Owen, she added a cheeky smile. “I think both of you are going to need some.”
Then they departed without another word.
Sean closed the door behind them, then immediately felt more self-conscious. He had never been to Owen’s apartments, but he imagined Owen could probably fit three of Sean’s house in his drawing room.
“Again, may I offer you a cup of tea, Owen?”
“No, thank you.”