Deception at Sable Hill (2 page)

“You flatter me.”

“It’s the truth. You are the object of many a man’s attentions. Believe me, I’ve heard.”

She shuddered. “Your observation doesn’t make me feel any safer.”

“How about this, then? My father hired two off-duty policemen to keep watch over tonight’s event. I promise, all evening you’ve been closely guarded—though I would have preferred that they had stayed outside.”

“Truly?” She looked around the room.

“Yes. They’re right here with us. In the ballroom. One is Detective Owen Howard. You know Owen, of course.”

She relaxed. “Of course. Though he is several years older than I am, I’ve known him for ages.” Just like the rest of them had. Though everyone in their circle stayed the same, only growing older year after year, Owen was the exception. He’d reinvented himself, deciding to join the force when most men in their world elected to spend their days in far less demanding pursuits. Owen’s decision made her admire him all the more.

“He is a good man, to be sure, though I have to admit to still being somewhat shocked by his chosen profession. He could have done much better.”

“Perhaps he enjoys the work?”

“That would be doubtful. His father, after all, is a banker.”

“Perhaps banking isn’t for everyone.”

“Well, he is a third son. With no chance of inheriting much, I understand why he might elect to go into the police business.” After
a pause, his tone turned haughty. “It’s his partner who looks a bit more . . . swarthy. His name is Sean Ryan.”

“Sounds Irish.”

“Trust me, he’s as Irish as a four-leaf clover. He has also been lurking about in an ill-fitting tuxedo. I don’t know if the poor fit is from an inferior tailor, a weapon, or the fact that he likely borrowed it from some unfortunate soul.”

As Quentin guided her across the marble floor, she scanned the crowd. “I don’t see him.”

“You will. I promise, once you start looking, you won’t miss him. He sticks out like a sore thumb! However, Owen has vouched for his character, which is the only reason my parents allowed him to be in our midst.” He leaned closer to drawl into her ear. “So don’t worry about a thing, Eloisa. As long as they’re here, everything is going to be just fine. As far as I’m concerned, they’re worth every penny of their exorbitant fee. If they keep you safe, it will be money well spent.”

It took a lot of effort to pretend she believed him. But what Quentin didn’t realize was that it wasn’t only the threat of being attacked by a stranger that frightened her.

It was the knowledge that much worse than a threat could happen with someone she knew.

“You’re staring again,” Owen Howard blurted as he reached Sean’s side. “If you’re not careful, someone besides me is going to notice.”

“I’m merely scanning the area,” Sean lied. Only through careful effort was he able to refrain from flushing. “There are a lot of people here, you know. Hundreds.”

“Yes, but only one Eloisa Carstairs.”

“I’m sure I don’t know to whom you are referring.”

“Of course you do,” Owen countered with a wink. “But don’t be embarrassed, chap. You aren’t doing anything the rest of us haven’t done a time or two. Or ten. Eloisa is pure golden-haired perfection. Angelic even.”

Sean raised his eyebrows at the descriptor. At times like these he truly wondered why Owen had elected to join the police force. Though he wasn’t quite as high in the instep as the majority of the gentlemen and ladies in attendance, he was certainly far and above Sean’s social standing.

In addition, Sean was fairly certain if he, like Owen, had made such a social stumble like joining the police force, he certainly wouldn’t be showing up at society functions like this. It seemed an odd choice.

Sean, however, was making a small fortune for Hope House this evening. That was what he needed to focus on. His fee would cover the expenses of the women and children who lived there for almost a month. That was reason alone to be standing around in an ill-fitting, borrowed tuxedo, attempting to look vigilant.

“Ready to split up again?” Sean asked. “I’ll check the balconies and alcoves while you check the perimeter grounds.”

Owen pulled out his silver timepiece. “That suits me fine. Meet back here in an hour?”

As the set ended and the men escorted their partners off the dance floor, Sean watched Owen walk in the direction of the balcony and the outdoor steps that led down to the patio and garden. The patio was decorated with a flurry of white candles.

Then, unable to help himself, he looked for her pale lace gown the color of spring grass. He exhaled as he saw Eloisa being escorted off the floor and toward one of the private rooms off to the side. She was in Quentin Gardner’s company, which was reason enough for Sean to
pretend he didn’t see her. Quentin’s father was not only paying his fee, the family was also believed to be above reproach. In short, Quentin was everything Sean was not. He was exactly the type of gentleman Eloisa should be near.

But then Sean noticed her expression had become strained, and she seemed to be trying to pull her arm from Quentin’s grip. Her eyes were darting around the room, as if she were looking for anyone to give her assistance.

He stilled and stared at her hard, not caring if his attention was garnering notice.

He knew the exact moment she recognized him—from when they had previously met or merely a fish-out-of-water policeman, he didn’t know. He didn’t care. Her lips parted. Her pleading look told him everything he needed to know.

It didn’t matter who she was or whom she was with. Eloisa Carstairs was looking to him for help.

And he would do almost anything to go to her assistance.

CHAPTER 2

O
nly with the greatest effort was Eloisa able to keep from crying out. “Quentin, where are you taking me?”

“Nowhere special. Only to one of my mother’s quiet seating areas.” He stopped in front of a pair of ornately carved chairs framed by heavy velvet curtains. “I never understood why she’d been so intent on designing the perfect alcove. Now I have a very good idea. We’ll be able to rest here as long as we like without being disturbed.”

When she saw him start to pull the drapery closed, she pulled free from his firm grip at last and stepped away. “I’d rather not sit here.”

“Why? I assure you it’s nothing no one here hasn’t done a time or two.” He grinned, but that grin slowly faded as he stared at her intently. “Eloisa? Dearest, you’re deathly pale.” He reached for her gloved hand and tugged her toward the chairs. “Sit down. Relax. You look as if you’re about to faint.”

Fearing he was correct, she sat. However, she was very far from
relaxing. That same old fear gripped her as she scanned the area. Hoping for someone to come upon them soon. Praying for help. Perhaps the man whose eyes had just met hers.

“D-don’t pull the curtains shut. Please.”

Immediately, he pushed them back against the wall. As she tried to catch her breath, he knelt at her feet. “Shall I get you a glass of water? Lemonade?”

“I-I don’t know.”

Concern crossed his face as he picked up one of her gloved hands. “Why not?”

She didn’t have an answer for that. Her mouth went dry as she attempted to think of something to say. Of any excuse to explain her skittishness.

But nothing was coming to mind.

Suddenly, the man in the ill-fitting tuxedo—the one who must indeed be Mr. Ryan—appeared. “Miss Carstairs, are you all right?”

Quentin scowled as he got to his feet. “Detective, be off. This is a private conversation.”

After looking at her for a long moment, the detective turned to Quentin and replied, “I beg your pardon, sir, but your father was asking for you. I told him I’d find you.”

“What did he want?”

“I couldn’t say, sir. Only that I told him I’d convey his message.” Looking then directly at her, Detective Ryan said, “Sir, it appears Miss Carstairs has gotten overheated. Since you are needed elsewhere, I’ll escort her outside.”

Quentin eyed him with a decidedly haughty glare. “Detective, you seem to be mistaken about your assigned duties here. My father hired you to make sure the women are safe here, not to interfere in my business.”

“I understand exactly what my duties are. Sir.” To Eloisa’s surprise, the detective didn’t look cowed in the slightest. Instead, he looked relaxed, almost at ease. But his eyes never left hers. “Miss Carstairs, would you care to take a breath of fresh air?”

Feeling both men’s gazes, Eloisa knew there was only one real choice. The proper, correct thing to do would be to stay with Quentin. She’d known him for years, he was hosting the party, and nothing would make her parents happier than for her to spend time with him.

If she left with the detective, eyebrows would be raised and questions would be asked.

However, she had recently learned that the best decision wasn’t always the obvious one. She had also learned that feeling safe was something not to be taken for granted.

Therefore, she stood as gracefully as she could on unsteady feet. “Thank you so much, Detective. I would enjoy taking a turn outside, especially since Quentin has been called away.”

Quentin edged forward, just as if he feared she would actually make a social faux pas and take the policeman’s arm. “Eloisa, I will escort you wherever you wish.”

She inched closer to the detective. “Please don’t trouble yourself.”

“It would be no trouble.” His speech was clipped, his tone hard.

Almost frightening.

With effort she kept her smile in place. “But I would feel terrible if I monopolized your company, especially since your father summoned you.” Before Quentin could say another word, she turned to Detective Ryan. “Are you sure you don’t mind escorting me out to one of the balconies? I really am in need of some fresh air.”

“I don’t mind at all.”

Then, before Quentin could protest again, she wrapped a hand around the policeman’s forearm as he led the way out of the alcove.

Quentin was most likely sputtering behind them, but she didn’t care. All that mattered was that she felt safe with this man. And, with luck, he would even find a way for her to get home before she burst into tears.

When they were halfway to the balcony doors, the detective looked down at her. “By the way, my name is Lieutenant Detective Sean Ryan, miss. We’ve met before.”

Though she had already recognized him, his words brought back a rush of memories she had tried very hard to forget. “Yes. Um, I remember. The Sloane . . . matter. You were one of the officers who asked me questions about the family.” Smoothing a faltering smile, she said, “Would you mind terribly if I acted like I know you better than I do? I don’t want anyone to suspect that we’re not acquainted.”

A shadow entered his eyes. “I wouldn’t mind that at all, Miss Carstairs.”

She noticed that her walk with the handsome Detective Ryan was earning her a few curious looks, but Eloisa figured the expressions of surprise could have as much to do with the fact that she was in attendance at the ball. She’d hardly been out in society in weeks.

It might have something to do with her expression too. For once she didn’t feel as if she were on the verge of tears. In fact, at the moment she couldn’t help but smile.

“We seem to be attracting quite a bit of attention,” Mr. Ryan said under his breath.

“I don’t mind.” Feeling daring, she tilted her chin up to gaze into his eyes. “Actually, I was relieved when you happened upon us. It was my good fortune that Mr. Gardner sent you on the hunt for Quentin.”

Looking a little sheepish, he said, “I’m afraid I made that up. When I saw Mr. Gardner lead you into the alcove, I noticed . . . Forgive me, but you didn’t look entirely comfortable.”

“I see.” She was embarrassed now. If this detective noticed how ill at ease she was, perhaps others had noticed as well.

He looked at her in a searching way. “Was Mr. Gardner making improper advances?”

“No.” When he raised his eyebrows, she flushed, realizing that she had answered fairly quickly. “At least, I don’t think so.” She bit her lip before continuing. “I’m sorry. You must think I’m a ninny.”

“Never that. But perhaps I will allow that you seem a bit nervous?”

“I sometimes have a difficult time being alone with men.”

Even her kid gloves and his layers of clothing couldn’t hide the fact that the muscles lining his forearm tensed. “Do I make you nervous?”

“No. I mean, I don’t believe so.” Embarrassed again, she dropped her hand.

They were at the outside doors now. The Gardners’ ballroom had two sets of white French doors that opened to a wide balcony. The breeze that beckoned them was bracing. Exactly what she needed to get her bearings.

After they stepped out onto the expanse, she noticed two other couples outside as well. However, they were far enough away not to disturb her and Mr. Ryan’s privacy.

For the first time since she’d arrived at the Gardner house, Eloisa exhaled with relief as she turned and rested her back against the balcony’s railing. “Thank you again for your escort.”

He stepped to her side. “Care to tell me what has you worried?”