Deception at Sable Hill (34 page)

“Good day, Quentin,” Owen said, then firmly put his hand on the small of her back and guided her away.

Katie let him move her away because she didn’t trust Quentin and she knew Owen was fighting to hold his tongue. Only after they had walked a good fifty feet did Owen stop. “I’m sorry about that. Quentin can be, uh, somewhat of a challenge.”

“Yes, sir.”

“There’s no need to be so formal, dear.” He sighed. “Actually, Quentin reminded me that I need to check the location for the gala tonight. Do you mind if we walk over to the lagoon? The party is going to be in the New York State building. I need to make sure everything is in order.”

“Of course we can walk over there.” She attempted to smile, but inside she was calling herself ten times the fool. They really were too different, and the leering way Owen’s friend had regarded her cemented that notion firmly inside her.

They walked to the New York State building. After they went inside, Owen suggested she walk around for a moment while he conferred with the men and women who were already working like busy bees in the various rooms to prepare for a string quartet and servants, adding small tables and chairs for people to enjoy their libations and hors d’oeuvres.

In addition, several policemen were inspecting the rooms. She had just moved to what was essentially a gallery of sorts, displaying artwork by illustrious New Yorkers, when she noticed a familiar face.

When she caught his eye, Sergeant Fuller started, then walked her way. “Hello, Miss Ryan. I don’t know how you got inside, but I’m afraid the building is closed for the day. Some swells are going to be having a party here this evening, you see.”

“Oh, I’m not alone. I’m here with Detective Howard.”

Fuller blinked. “Why on earth would you be with him?” Before she could even think of a reply, he stepped a little closer and grabbed her arm. “What’s wrong with Sean?”

“Sean?” She wasn’t sure why he would have even imagined anything was amiss with him.

He grimaced. “I mean your brother, Lieutenant Ryan.”

“Nothing is wrong with him. He was perfectly fine when I saw him yesterday.”

“Then why would you be keeping our gentleman detective company?”

Now that was a phrase she hadn’t heard in a while. She remembered Sean calling Owen that quite a bit when he was first assigned to
work with him. But that had been almost a year ago. Since then the two had developed a firm friendship.

She attempted to laugh, though she was feeling more awkward by the second. But she wasn’t in any hurry to lie, either. “Detective Howard offered to accompany me to the fair today.”

“He is here as your escort?”

“Well, yes. I, um, wanted to see the Women’s Pavilion one last time before the fair closes.”

“But you ain’t there. And he isn’t by your side.”

“He wanted to check something here,” she said meekly, feeling more and more awkward. Though Sergeant Fuller was a member of the police force, she didn’t really know him. Furthermore, Sean always warned her not to gossip about his job. “He’ll be right back, though.”

“I’ll stay with you until he returns, then.”

She smiled weakly. She didn’t want his company. Not only was she far too old to be watched over like a wayward school girl, she couldn’t escape the notion that Sergeant Fuller was being far too familiar with her.

She flinched when he wrapped his hand around her wrist.

“What’s wrong? Do you not take the arms of sergeants?”

“I simply need to stay here. Like I promised Owen.”

“Owen? You are that familiar with him?”

“I mean, Detective Howard,” she said somewhat breathlessly.

“You don’t know what you want or what you mean, I think. But you should. After all, you’re a pretty thing, but in the end, you are just poor Irish trash—”

“Miss Ryan?” Detective Howard called out. “Fuller? Sergeant, what are you doing here?”

“I’m here for the same reasons you are, I suppose, Detective. Checking things out for the high and mighty.”

“The captain sent you?”

Fuller ignored the question, merely looked toward Katie. “Now that your escort is here, Miss Ryan, I’ll be on my way.”

She nodded, barely. But otherwise didn’t do a thing until he was out the door. When they were alone, Owen looked around at the other visitors. When it was obvious that no one was paying them any mind, he leaned closer to her. “What was that about, Katie?”

“I don’t know. He took hold of my wrist. He . . . he was asking why I was here.”

“Was he?” he asked in his gentle way. “What did you tell him?”

“The truth. That I came here with you.” She raised her chin and looked into his eyes, struggling to understand what had just happened. “Was that wrong?”

Owen slipped a reassuring hand at the middle of her back. “Not at all, Katherine Jean. Nothing you are doing is wrong or improper.”

“He acted like I was acting above myself.”

“What does that even mean?” he asked lightly. “You are a lovely young lady and you have allowed me to spend some time with you. That doesn’t sound like you’re acting above yourself at all.”

“You did ask me to be with you, didn’t you?”

“Of course I did. And even though I’m past thirty years of age, I even asked your brother’s permission to do it.” He flashed a wry grin. “Now I think we had best be going.” He paused. “Plus, I have a favor to ask of you.”

“What is it?”

“Would you care to go to the gala tonight?”

The invitation was lightly asked, but the weight of the importance in her life couldn’t be measured. “Why are you asking . . . me?”

“Because I want to spend more time with you. I promise, my motives are above board. Your brother will be here and you may arrive with Eloisa.”

It sounded like a dream come true. “I don’t know how to waltz or anything.”

“You won’t have to waltz. Just stand with us and enjoy yourself.”

“I . . . I don’t have anything appropriate to wear.” And she couldn’t even begin to imagine how she or her sister could ever afford anything even remotely suitable—even if there were time to shop. Even June didn’t have a dress fine enough for a social event like this.

“That is why I asked Eloisa if she might lend you a hand.”

“You’ve already asked her?”

“I did. She wanted to repay your kindness. Well, the kindness of your family. Sean mentioned that you would probably like to attend one of the social events. And so she offered. If you’d like to go, dear, all I have to do is take you to Eloisa’s house. We can send word to your family so they won’t worry about you.”

He was making it seem so simple, when it wasn’t at all.

He was giving her choices about attending functions she never thought she’d ever even hear about except when June read the society papers out loud.

And though she was nervous to say yes, she realized that was from a great many things that didn’t have anything to do with Mr. Owen Howard, society gentleman, police detective, and no doubt the object of more than one lady’s affections.

“I’m only afraid of embarrassing you. Not of being with you,” she admitted. “Is that wrong?”

For the first time, something bright and unhidden shone in his eyes. “Katie, I promise, what you just said could never be more right. I feel the same way about you. So may I escort you to Miss Carstairs’s home?”

“Yes, Mr. Howard. I would like that very much.”

He held out his arm for her to take. She took it, thinking of how right it felt to be by his side.

Only as they left the building and she caught sight of Sergeant Fuller watching them did she flush. Perhaps Fuller had been right. There was a very good chance that any sort of relationship between her and Owen was going to be perceived by most as very wrong.

CHAPTER 29

T
he New York State building, located to the west of the Palace of Fine Arts, was glorious. It was large, a brilliant white, and looked as if the architects had dubiously combined a large mansion with an Italian villa. It was sumptuously decorated, boasted two towers, and had a second-story banquet room that was decorated in shades of cream and gold.

Eloisa had visited the building more than once, of course, but this was the first time she’d been invited to attend a party there.

Her parents had declined the invitation, as did some of the most high in the instep sticklers of Chicago society. Many felt that the denizens of New York had built the awe-inspiring edifice as a deliberate snub to the people of Illinois, showing that while the World’s Columbian Exposition might have its home in Chicago, it would have been much better for everyone if the site of the fair had been in New York City, like most had wanted in the first place.

As for Eloisa, she had far more important things on her mind at the moment than whether or not she should be seen mixing with the high steppers from New York society.

Actually, at the moment, she was far more concerned about making sure Katie Ryan was enjoying herself. And then there was the small matter of feeling just about everyone’s eyes on her face wherever she went.

She’d chosen to wear ivory, hoping that her gown, practically glowing in the sea of dark gowns and black tuxedos, would both complement the also-glowing White City buildings as well as detract a good bit of attention from the marks on her cheek and jaw.

She’d been wrong.

No matter to whom she talked or smiled, the other person’s attention was first drawn to the angry red marks on her cheek. An uncomfortable silence usually followed, accompanied by a few probing questions.

Only then could conversation about the fair and the party and trivial gossip ensue. Usually it was stilted and strained. Eloisa supposed she couldn’t blame them. Her marks served as a reminder that the public areas of Chicago were not safe. But hitting even more close to home was the fact that Eloisa was a symbol of all of them.

The privileged, the blessed few. The select gentlemen and ladies who were supposed to be insulated from the rough-and-tumble life so often reported in the
Chicago
Tribune
. They were supposed to be immune to such things.

And they had been . . . until the Society Slasher had begun to terrorize them all.

The only silver lining in her appearance was that it was so remarked upon that very few people were concerned about the identity of her escort, Lieutenant Detective Sean Ryan. Those men and
women who knew he was a policeman acted as if they were glad he was staying by Eloisa’s side.

Others only took note of his appearance, saw that he was handsome and wore a well-cut suit, and kept conversation geared toward trivialities.

Still others were more intrigued by the youthful beauty of Katie. She was wearing one of Eloisa’s gowns, and the blue in the fabric accentuated her bright-blue eyes, dark hair, and winsome smile. She looked adorable, and was comporting herself well. No one there had any idea Katie was from a part of Chicago most of them didn’t even know existed.

After they’d been there for an hour, Sean, who had been checking in with the uniformed officers standing watch at the entrance, smiled at her. “How are you faring, Miss Carstairs? I’m sorry I had to leave you. I know I promised not to leave your side, but it seems even here I have to be a lieutenant.”

“Think nothing of it. I’ve been having a wonderful time watching your sister create quite a stir.”

“Truly?”

Eloisa hid a smile. Sean looked as if he wasn’t sure what to think about his sister creating such an impression on the crowd. “Very much so. I have a feeling she’s having an evening she won’t forget anytime soon.”

Eloisa watched him scan the crowd and locate his sister, who was standing prettily next to Owen while they were talking to Reid Armstrong and his fiancée, Rosalind. “I’m glad Owen is staying by her side.”

“Sean, I think it’s more of a matter of him not wanting to leave her side.” She lowered her voice. “He’s smitten. I’m sure of it.”

“I’m afraid he is.”

“She’s a wonderful young lady.”

Something passed in his eyes before he seemed to gather himself and look her way. “What about you?”

“What about me what?” she teased.

“Are you regretting your decision to come here with me?”

“Actually, I am not. Before you returned, I was just reflecting on how glad I am that you encouraged me to come. It has been awkward, seeing as how my scars seem to be about three steps ahead of me. But now, at least, people are talking about what they see and not merely sharing stories about what they think happened to me.”

“Yes, the truth is always better, I think.”

“I’m slowly learning that—though I fear I’ve gotten used to not only practicing deception with others but deceiving myself.”

“How so?”

“Deception can be so very dark. So much so, it’s often a struggle to enjoy the light of bare truth. So I’ve been hiding in the dark.”

She had been thinking about how she had thought no one would see her pain if she stayed hidden on Sable Hill, about her evasion with Juliet, about the way she’d been afraid to even tell her mother about Douglass’s attack. And she realized she’d been deceiving herself. She’d taken to pretending she was fine, especially when she’d finally made the practically heroic effort to leave her house. But she hadn’t been fine, and now she saw her actions for what they were.

Sean looked at her intently before he responded.

“Deception can feel like a comfortable cloak at times, I imagine.” He looked around the room. “It’s like this place, I suppose. It’s beautiful and pure white and grand.”

“It says a lot about the people who built it.”

“And for the people who paid for it too, I imagine.”

“Always.”

He grimaced. “However, many of the surrounding buildings are
already almost empty. Soon these white buildings will only serve as memories of another time.”

Unable to help herself, she felt the raised lines on her jaw with her fingers. “As will my scars. Perhaps one day I’ll forget they’re even on my face. Only a look in the mirror will remind me of being attacked.”

“Or perhaps you won’t view them as unsightly reminders.”

“What else would I ever think of them as?”