by Shelley Gray
But Katie was nowhere. Scared to death now, Eloisa looked for Owen or Sean, scanning the gentlemen who looked all the same in their black tuxedos, their features blurred in the smoke.
Until she saw Sean running toward her. “Eloisa!” he breathed before he roughly pulled her into his arms and hugged her tightly.
No embrace had ever felt as secure or wonderful. “Sean, I’m so glad to see you,” she blurted before he kissed her quickly.
Then, just as abruptly, he pulled away and scanned her face. “Why are you still here? I had hoped someone trustworthy would have already taken you home.”
“I couldn’t leave. I don’t have Katie.”
He blinked. “No, I’m sure Katie is with Owen.”
“She wasn’t when I got out. Owen was still upstairs. The last time I saw Katie, Quentin Gardner was directing her toward the back exit.”
He stared at her, confusion in his features. “Everyone was supposed to go toward the front stairs, where the uniformed officers were stationed. The back stairwell is narrow and I didn’t think it was safe enough to risk a crowd rushing down those steps. I thought there was plenty of time for everyone to safely exit out the front entrance.”
“There was a uniformed officer in the back too, Sean. He was directing people to take the back way.”
“We have to find Katie.”
Roughly grabbing her hand, he yanked her to walk with him. Yet again they walked around the perimeter. It was difficult to do now, and Eloisa feared it wasn’t safe at all. They could both feel the heat emanating from the flames. It was as if the fire were jumping from structure to structure.
While she scanned the few people who remained for either Owen or Katie, Sean strode toward one uniformed officer.
When he saw them approach, both of his hands lifted in a universal signal for them to halt. “You folks need to leave now,” he barked. “Ain’t no—”
“I’m Lieutenant Ryan,” Sean interrupted. Sean guided her closer. “Eloisa, was this the man?”
“No. The man I saw was shorter. Dark hair, and a bit too much of it.”
“Griffin, Eloisa said a uniformed officer answering to that description was upstairs directing people down the back staircase. Who was it?”
“I don’t know, sir. Detective Howard told us to stay near the front staircase to usher people out. Maybe it was a man in a suit?”
“No.” Eloisa shook her head. “He had a uniform and he was friendly looking.” Suddenly, she had a name—and a reason to feel afraid. “I know who it was. Sergeant Fuller. He’s shaved his sideburns and was obviously wearing a wig of some sort, but I still recognized his face and physique. Why would he—”
“Fuller?”
“Yes, he came downstairs with you when I saw you at the station. I remember him because he told me you were a good man.”
“Where is Fuller, Griffin?”
Officer Griffin frowned. “I’m sure I have no idea, sir. He was on duty at the precinct when we left. Giving us grief about working yet another fancy society party. Said if something happened, it would be no less than the swells deserved . . .” His voice drifted off in a horrified way.
Sean seemed to freeze.
“It was Fuller,” he said. “I never seriously . . .”
“You think Sergeant Fuller set the fire, sir?”
“I’m sure he did.” Sean’s voice was hoarse.
“Lord have mercy. Once we get the last of the civilians out, I’ll spread the word to be on the lookout for him.”
Sean shook his head. “No, you don’t understand. Fuller is the Society Slasher, and I think he has my little sister, Katie.”
Eloisa gasped. Just as the blazes burst higher and a piercing scream filled the air.
CHAPTER 31
Gathering her courage, Katie screamed again. From the moment she realized Sergeant Fuller was intent on doing her harm, from the time she eyed the stiletto knife in his right hand, she knew she had no choice.
“Stop!” he said, roughly gripping her shoulders and shaking her hard. “I haven’t even hurt you, Katie.”
“Don’t call me Katie.”
“I’ve known you for years. Since you were just a tyke and your brother entered the police force.” His voice softened as he pressed against her. “You were such a sweet little thing. So proud of your brother.” His eyes narrowed. “But you didn’t remember me at the station. You had to look at my nameplate to even know my name. And tonight, you didn’t even notice that I’d shaved off my sideburns, did you?”
She didn’t dare mention that he was obviously wearing a wig too. “Why are you doing this, Sergeant?”
“Call me Roy.”
“Roy, why?”
Abruptly, his expression turned disdainful. “Look at you. Dressed like a trollop. Dressed like your betters.”
“I’m only in a blue gown. You make no sense.” She squirmed against his hold.
“You aren’t going to escape, Katie. No one ever does.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“I’m taking care of all the ladies who act like I’m nothing.”
“I never did anything of the like.”
“You did today, Katie, when you were visiting here with Howard. You were gazing up at him like he was something special.”
That’s because he is, she silently reflected. “Detective Howard is my brother’s partner.”
“Yes, but you were looking at him like he was your beau.” His voice turned sinister. “And you gazed at me like I was nothing.”
“Roy, you must let me go. My brother is surely frightened by now.”
“He probably isn’t even thinking of you now. He’s so wrapped up in his infatuation with Eloisa Carstairs. But this will show him. He should have known better than to forget where he came from.”
“How will he know? The fire is coming.”
“Not yet. But don’t worry, you won’t feel a thing.”
She understood what he was saying. Now she knew she had nothing to lose. First taking a deep breath, she screamed as loud as she could.
“Stop!” Sergeant Fuller screamed, dropping the knife and grabbing her neck with one hand, then covering her mouth and nose with the other.
She kicked at him.
Just as the door to the small storage room at the base of the New York building was kicked open. Both her brother and Owen raced in, with Eloisa behind them. Next thing she knew, Owen had lifted her into his arms and Sean was throwing punches into the sergeant’s face.
Suddenly two uniformed police officers rushed in. A wealth of grunts and curses filled the air as they tied up Sergeant Fuller.
“We got him, Lieutenant. See to the ladies,” one called out. “We’ll be two minutes behind you.”
Still Sean hesitated. “Sure?”
“Positive, sir.”
Sean leaned over to where Owen had just set her on her feet. “Are you okay?”
Though she was shaking like a leaf, she nodded.
“All right then. Owen, you got her?”
To her surprise, Owen lifted her back into his arms and exited the building. “I do, indeed. You take care of Miss Carstairs.”
“You know you’re going to have to marry Katie now,” Sean joked—joked!—as he took Eloisa’s arm and led her to safety.
“Now I won’t have to figure out how to come calling on you to ask for permission,” Owen called out as they put more distance between them and the fire.
Katie stared up at Owen in shock. “What are you saying?” She feared she was living in a fog.
“We’ll talk about it when you are safe. But I think you heard my intentions, Katherine Jean.”
“The fire is several yards away. I can walk now.”
“Just let me hold you a little while longer,” Owen Howard murmured. “If I know your brother—and I certainly do—he’s not going to let me get this close to you for another six months.”
“A year engagement,” Sean said over his shoulder. “At least.”
CHAPTER 32
Two weeks had passed since a fire had destroyed five buildings in the White City, the Slasher had been apprehended, the fair had closed once and for all . . . and now Owen Howard was courting nineteen-year-old Katie Ryan in earnest. Everyone expected him to propose to her sometime before Christmas.
For most of those days, the reporters from the Chicago Tribune had seemingly worked overtime. Every morning a new story appeared on the front page, featuring interviews with victims of the fire and in-depth analysis into the mind of the Society Slasher, the man better known as Sergeant Roy Fuller.
There was, of course, the expected backlash against the Irish police, some gleefully proclaiming once again that a police force composed of so many swarthy characters could never be taken seriously.
But far more favorable were the many people who saw both Owen Howard and Sean Ryan as true heroes—and models for how the rest of Chicago society should act. Two men from opposite circumstances and education, united in friendship and by occupation. Many were using the two men as symbols of the new Chicago.
Their photographs had graced the front page of the paper no less than three times—the last time with medals from the city on ribbons around their necks, their shiny, new ranks listed under their names. Sean was now a full captain, and Owen, the gentleman detective, was now a lieutenant.
Eloisa mused on such things as she sat with Juliet on the velvet settee in her private receiving room. Since the fire, the two of them had become even closer. It was as if the last of their barriers had been broken down.
They were true friends now, though Juliet professed she quite fancied the idea of being personal maid to a police captain’s wife.
Not that Sean Ryan had proposed marriage.
No, instead he had paid a call on her every day. Sometimes merely staring at her and holding her hand, sometimes talking a mile a minute.
After the first four days, her father, when he was home, had taken to sitting in with them. Two times Maeve and Katie had joined him. And once even Sean’s brother Billy had tagged along to pay his respects.
But so far, Sean had not given any indication that he was on the verge of asking for her hand.
“What do you think is taking him so long?” Juliet asked.
“Katie says he’s afraid I’ll say no.”
“Like you would have done that after the day of the fire.”
Eloisa merely smiled, but she privately agreed with Juliet. Once she’d made up her mind about Sean, she’d been on pins and needles, waiting for his proposal.
To everyone’s amusement, even her father had muttered that he couldn’t understand why Sean hadn’t proposed.
Eloisa was just about to ask Juliet to call for a pot of tea when a light knock sounded at her door . . . followed by a beaming Worthy.
“Captain Ryan is here for you, Miss Carstairs.”
“Oh?” After a token attempt at looking as cool as a cucumber, she said, “How does he look?”
“Splendid. He’s in his dress uniform, his medals of valor displayed prominently.”
Juliet clapped her hands. “Finally,” she whispered.
Wondering if Juliet might be right, Eloisa sprang to her feet. “W-where is he now?”
Worthy’s smile got wider. “In with your father.”
Her mouth went dry. “I see.”
“I was told to ask you to be downstairs to see him privately.”
“She’ll be there in five,” Juliet said as she pressed two hands to Eloisa’s back. “We’re just going to fix her hair for a moment.”
Eloisa batted her hands away. “I need more than that. I need a better dress on.”
“You’re wearing your yellow. He likes that one, he does.”
“But—”
“He’s seen you in everything beautiful, Eloisa. Let me fix your hair. Don’t make him wait a moment longer.”
She sat, keeping herself as stiff as a board, while Juliet rearranged her chignon.
Then, before she could do anything more than hug Juliet, she was on her way downstairs, her maid on her heels.
“He is waiting for you in the solarium,” Worthy announced with a faint smile.
“Yes. Thank you.” Was her voice trembling as much as she feared?
Slowly, she took the long walk through the entryway, walked through the center of the drawing room, past a hallway leading to the solarium.
Lights were blazing, and a full tea service was artfully set out on the table. But all she could see was Sean standing in the center of the room, his posture tall and proud, his good looks as handsome as ever.
And his hazel eyes staring at her like she was the only thing in the room.
“Sean,” she said. Croaked, actually. “It’s so pleasant to see—”
He cut her off by striding forward. When she stood there, simply staring at him, Sean pulled her into his arms. Next thing she knew, he was kissing her. Kissing her with the door open and no doubt half the servants in the hall, watching.
Even more surprising was that she had no desire to do anything but curve her arms around him and kiss him back.
When he lifted his head, finally allowing her to inhale, he ran his hand along her jaw. Just as he had the first time they’d gone to Hope House and she’d been nervous.
Just as he had when she’d admitted she’d been raped and, she believed, was therefore unworthy.
Just as he had when he’d held her in his arms after she’d been attacked at the train station and she could hear him praying aloud for her to live.
Just as he had when he’d sat next to her in Owen’s carriage after he and Owen had rescued Katie.
“You know I love you, Eloisa, don’t you?”
Since her voice seemed unable to function, she simply nodded.
“And you know I think you are the loveliest, most perfect woman I’ve ever seen or met in my life?”
She nodded, because she knew he wasn’t simply talking about her looks. He was talking about the real her, the part that was inside.
“If I promise you I’ll spend my every last day making sure you are happy and safe and loved . . . will you?” His voice croaked at the end.
Croaked! Sean, who always was so sure. So right.
So she spoke. At last. “Will I marry you?”
“Aye.” He closed his eyes, then stepped away. “Forgive me. I meant to do this correctly.” And then, to her amazement, he knelt down on one knee. Gazed up at her. “Please, Miss Carstairs, would you do me the very great honor of becoming my wife?”
Eloisa looked down at him, smiled. Then did the exact opposite of what her teachers had taught her in deportment classes. She knelt down on both of her knees in front of him and nodded.
“Yes, Mr. Ryan, I will,” she replied. “Because, you see, I love you too.”
He smiled again, and then kissed her again.
As all the servants cheered and burst into a round of applause.
DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
1. I used the quotation from Ralph Waldo Emerson as inspiration while I wrote the novel. “Our greatest glory is not in never failing, but in rising up every time we fail.” Do you agree? If so, how do you think failure might become someone’s greatest glory?
2. I felt the scripture verse from Amos, ‘Come back to me and live!’ was particularly significant for Eloisa. How do you think coming back to the Lord enables a person to live?
3. What were your first impressions of Sean Ryan and Eloisa Carstairs?
4. I particularly enjoyed writing the scenes with Owen Howard and Sean Ryan. I felt their characters played off of each other well and could see them as real friends. They accepted each other’s faults and even viewed them as strengths. Who in your lif
e knows you so well that he or she accepts all of you, even your faults?
5. I enjoyed Katie Ryan’s character because I felt she represented all of the changes that were taking place for women at the turn of the century. What changes would you have been most excited about? What do you imagine will happen to Katie in her future?
6. I truly loved Eloisa’s character. She worked hard to overcome the pain she suffered in a previous book. How do you think finally admitting her pain to her maid and accepting God’s guidance helped her heal?
7. Deception was an integral theme throughout the novel, both in solving the mystery and for the characters to learn to accept each other. Do you think deception still plays a part in society today? Can you think of an example?
8. Deception on Sable Hill takes place at the end of the Gilded Age. The turn of the century will bring the Great War, Prohibition, the women’s right to vote, and the rise of the middle class. How do you think the characters in the novel will handle the many changes?
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Deception on Sable Hill truly became a group project, and it wouldn’t have become the novel it is without the support and wisdom of a great many people. Thank you to my friend, author Julie Stone, who has now met me in Chicago twice on research trips. Only a friend like you would spend a whole day on a ‘Devil in the White City’ tour! Thank you to critique partners Cathy Liggett and Heather Webber who helped me work out the mystery and willingly read ‘just one more chapter, please’. Thank you to Lynne Stroup, my first ‘reader’, for catching details, writing tons of notes, and making me feel like I had actually written the book I’d dreamed about.
In addition, I am grateful for the whole team at HarperCollins Christian Publishing. Thank you to my editor Becky Philpott, for her guidance and advice and enthusiasm. Thank you to Elizabeth Hudson for being so wonderful to work with and helping to spread the word about the series! Thank you to Jean for helping me fine tune all the details in the story and helping everything I envisioned actually make sense. And, of course, I’m indebted to Ms. Daisy Hutton, my publisher at HCCP for her kindness and continued guidance.