Deception at Sable Hill (26 page)

Katie suddenly felt light-headed. She’d seen blood before. Of course she had. She’d also seen a man’s bare chest. After all, she was one of eight children.

But there was something about seeing Mr. Howard’s bare chest while he was sitting in her sister’s kitchen bleeding that made her heart ache and her insides twist and knot. He was in need and she had no earthly idea how to help him.

Holding the soiled shirt, Sean darted a glance at her. “Buck up, Katherine.”

“Or as I said before, leave,” Maeve ordered with another harried glance at her. Then her voice turned sweet. “We’ll clean your wound, Mr. Howard, then I’ll stitch you up. I’ll try not to hurt you too much.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll be fine.”

Katie found herself holding her breath often over the next thirty minutes as her sister carefully cleansed Mr. Howard’s side with clean rags and hot water, then sewed seven stitches into his side.

Through it all, their guest—such as he was—sat silent and still. Only the muscles straining in his face gave any indication that he was in pain.

When her brother knelt down to help Maeve, he tossed Mr. Howard’s soiled shirt into her hands. Katie found herself gripping the cloth tightly, practically wringing it into a hopeless mass of wrinkles.

Then Maeve stood up and smiled tiredly. “That’ll do it, I think. If you wash it every morning with soap and keep clean, you should heal in no time.”

“I’m obliged, Mrs. O’Connell. Please forgive my intrusion into your home so late in the evening.”

Again, something gentle crossed her sister’s features. “Think nothing of it. Between my siblings, my husband, and my own two
children, I’ve done more than my share of patching up scrapes and cuts over the years.”

“Maeve has become something of our savior,” Sean said, irony lacing his voice. “Our mother has never been particularly skilled in any situation involving blood.”

“Faints at the sight of it, she does,” Maeve blurted. “It’s still a mystery to us all how she birthed eight children.”

Seeing Mr. Howard’s blink, Katie was mortified. “Maeve!”

Maeve looked at their gentleman guest. “Sorry for my plain speaking, sir. I hope I didn’t offend your sensibilities,” she added with a wry look at Katie.

Detective Howard’s lips twitched. “Think nothing of it.”

“Well, now. I’m going to go find you one of my husband’s shirts so you can be on your way.”

“Thanks, Maeve,” Sean said. After she left the room, he looked at Katie. “You’re looking pale, dear. I have a feeling you might have inherited some of our mother’s squeamishness.”

“I am fine. Though I’m still not understanding why you came here, Sean. I would have thought you policemen would have access to a physician. Or that you would have your own, Mr. Howard.”

Mr. Howard smiled weakly. “Either of those options would have taken far more time. It would have also necessitated me answering more questions than I would be inclined to answer. This is police business, not a physician’s.”

“Why?”

“That is none of your concern, dear,” Sean said. His tone was gentle, always far more gentle with her than Maeve ever had been. But in its own way, it was just as firm and made it known that he would brook no arguments.

She was prevented from questioning that remark with her sister’s
return. “This cloth and tailoring won’t be what you are used to, Mr. Howard, but it should get you home all right.”

“I’m sure it will be fine, Mrs. O’Connell.”

Sean snapped it out of Maeve’s hand and held it out to assist him. “Easy now.”

Detective Howard glared at him. “Give me my shirt, Ryan.”

“I can play valet with the best of them, sir. Deal with it. The last thing you want is to pull a stitch and have my sister redo her handiwork, fine as it may be.”

Looking put upon, Detective Howard stood up and let Sean help him on with the shirt. “I will have this laundered and returned to you tomorrow, ma’am.”

“Thank you, Mr. Howard,” Maeve said as she cleaned up the last signs that any of them had been in the kitchen at all.

After helping Owen on with his dinner jacket and overcoat, Sean smiled again at his sister. “Thanks again, Maeve. Tell Jack I’m sorry for disturbing his house, but I didn’t feel like I had a choice. I owe you.”

Reaching out, Maeve gently pressed a hand to Sean’s cheek. In that moment Katie realized that Maeve was giving thanks that it had not been Sean who’d been stabbed. “You don’t owe me a thing. I was glad I could help.”

Sean glanced Katie’s way, at Owen, then seemed to come to a decision. “Katie, walk out with Owen and me, if you please.”

Maeve stiffened. “What are you about, Sean?”

“None of your concern. Katie, if you will come with us?”

Katie’s hands trembled. Obviously, she was now going to get questions about being at Maeve’s instead of at home. About whether or not she’d fought again with Conner. About staying in the kitchen instead of retreating back to the couch. About asking Detective Howard cheeky questions instead of remembering her place and being more respectful.

Once more, this would all take place in front of Detective Howard, and he would again witness her embarrassment.

“Katie?” Sean’s speech was clipped. “Now, if you please.”

“Yes, Sean.” Leaving Maeve alone in the kitchen, she joined her brother and Mr. Howard next to the front door. Steeling herself, she faced him. “Yes?”

Then, to her surprise, the corners of her brother’s lips turned up. And then he took hold of her hand. “Dear, Owen asked if he could speak with you privately for a moment. Would you be willing to do that on the front stoop?”

As she gazed at Detective Howard, she felt a myriad of emotions that could only be described as a mixture of shock and joy. “Of course.”

“Thank you.”

And with that, he opened the door and gestured for her to precede him out the door. Then, to her surprise, Detective Howard closed the door and shared that top cement step with her. He was standing very close to her. So close she could feel his body heat. So close, she was able to see the lines of strain around his eyes and mouth.

Close enough that, if her imagination took hold, she could imagine leaning against him as he circled his arms around her waist. Close enough to let herself imagine what it must feel like to have a man like him as a beau.

She tilted her head back, stared into his dark-brown eyes. Felt her own lips part.

He noticed. After the slightest hesitation, he stepped down. Allowing more air to flow between them, but maybe it wasn’t really that at all? Maybe it was more a matter of him recognizing that they needed to keep a respectable distance from each other.

It was the right thing to do, but she felt the loss like it was a
tangible thing. Like she’d had her opportunity to be in his world, and now that moment was gone. It made her sad, but she wasn’t surprised. Not really.

“Miss Ryan, thank you for your assistance this evening.”

She looked down at her feet. “We both know I didn’t do anything.” Actually, they both knew that she almost fainted right in front of him.

“You and your brother and sister did
everything
. You saved me a lot of questions and a lot of bother as well.”

Something in his voice sent up a red flag. Did he not see his worth? Or were there not enough people in his life who did? Hesitantly, she said, “Detective Howard, are you sure you’re going to be all right?”

“I’m better now, I believe.”

“I fear you’re going to be hurting something awful in the morning.”

“I’ll be all right. I’ve overcome worse,” he added, as if he were sharing a secret joke that she had no hope of understanding. “Miss Ryan, I asked you to speak to me out here for a reason.”

“Yes?” Worry claimed her. Was he going to take her to task again for walking around the city streets by herself?

He straightened. “I would still like to have tea with you.”

“You would?”

A hint of a smile played across his lips. “Would you still care to join me? I’ll ask your brother to join us as well, of course, so there will be no hint of impropriety.”

She was tempted to tell him the boys in their neighborhood didn’t worry so much about impropriety. In her world, couples dating simply went for a walk or for a stroll in the neighborhood. But, of course, here most of the neighborhood watched them every step of the way.

“Mr. Howard, are you sure you’re still wanting to? I don’t want you to feel obligated.”

“Obligation is not what I am thinking of.”

His words meant everything. “Then, yes. Yes, I still want to. Thank you.”

“On Sunday afternoon, perhaps? I should be right as rain by then. Sean said he is going to be accompanying Miss Carstairs to Hope House. Perhaps you could go, too, and then I could meet you?”

“I would like that.” She ached to ask him a hundred questions about his wishes. About why he was seeking her out. Wanted to ask what she’d done to ignite his interest. She yearned to ask him questions about himself, to discover why a man like him would ever lower himself to even contemplate seeing a girl like her.

But when he looked at her like that, when she was standing so close to him and no one else was around to say a word, not a single word of her own came to mind. Instead, all she seemed to be able to do was smile at him.

But perhaps that was enough, because he smiled right back. “Thank you, Miss Ryan. You have just made a difficult night far better.”

He stepped next to her again, paused for a moment, then opened the door and gestured her inside. “You’d best go in now. You’ll catch a chill otherwise.”

Obediently, she stepped through the doorway.

Then she looked back his way. “Good night, Detective Howard.”

“Good night, Miss Ryan,” he said before turning toward an awaiting coach.

As she watched it start forward, Katie let herself smile. Even though he’d been bleeding and in pain, he’d still been thinking of her.

“Is he gone?”

Startled, she glanced at her brother, who was standing against a wall, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Yes.” Sean had already agreed to her having tea with Owen, and he must have known that was what Owen wanted to talk to her about.
Still, she braced herself for a dozen questions, followed by another lengthy lecture about proper dating. She might be Sean’s favorite sister, but she had no doubt that his fondness for her would in any way prevent him from sharing his thoughts.

She was also, unfortunately, just as sure that she would have no words to answer his questions. Her emotions were too raw, her feelings too muddled and strong to put into some type of coherent order.

All she did know was that she was now definitely old enough not to live in fear of what Sean had to say. She would honor his opinion, but in the end she knew she would be accepting every invitation Owen Howard extended.

The silence between them lengthened. Tension rose inside her. She really did wish he would simply lecture her now and be done with it.

“So, is everything all right?”

Everything was better than she could have ever imagined. What could she say? “Yes.” And because he looked to be waiting for a report about what happened, she added, “He asked if I’d still like to join him for tea on Sunday afternoon. He said you could be there, and perhaps even Miss Carstairs.”

“Yes.” The word hung there between them as he stared at her. “What did you say?”

“I said I would be happy to join him. I mean, everyone.”

After gazing at her for another long moment, he nodded. “Good. Good night, then,” he said over his shoulder as he opened the door and headed back outside into the darkness.

More confused than ever before, Katie sat back down on her makeshift bed on the couch.

She’d barely pulled the sheet and quilt over her when Maeve stood in front of her. “What did Detective Howard want to talk to you about?”

“He wanted to thank me for my help and asked me to join him for tea on Sunday afternoon.”

“Just the two of you?”

“No. It seems that Miss Carstairs is going to be visiting Hope House with Sean again on Sunday. Detective Howard suggested I tag along, then the four of us take tea together.”

“You, Detective Howard, Sean, and Miss Carstairs.”

Katie nodded, practically bracing herself for Maeve’s temper to erupt.

But instead of bursting into a tirade, Maeve looked flummoxed. “Really?”

Katie nodded. “Really.” She bit her lip, then continued. “I know what you must be thinking, and I have to admit that I can see your point. I mean, what would a handsome, wealthy gentleman like Owen Howard want with a girl like me?”

“I wasn’t thinking that at all.” Maeve’s voice was, for once, quiet. Carefully gentle.

“No?”

“No, I was thinking maybe that Detective Howard is smarter than Sean had first thought.”

“Really?”

“Really. You . . . you are a lovely young lady, Katherine Jean. As long as Detective Howard treats you with respect, I don’t think there is a thing wrong with you accepting his invitation.”

“Thank you, Maeve.”

Maeve walked to the front door, locked it securely, then walked to the foot of the stairs. “This has been the strangest evening in memory. You’d best get to sleep now, pet. It’s been quite a night.”

“Yes, Maeve.”

Then, to Katie’s further surprise, Maeve paused on the steps.
“Tomorrow, we’ll think about a dress for you to wear. June or Mary Patricia might have one we can alter. Or I think we can even find some fabric and fashion one by Sunday.”

“Really? You would do that?”

“You might be just a poor Irish girl, but you’re the bonniest thing I’ve ever seen. Obviously, that Mr. Howard is no fool and knows you are just as lovely on the inside. That says something for him, I think.”

“Thank you, Maeve.”

“Mind you, there’s no telling what the Lord has to say about our future. Maybe things will work out with Mr. Howard, maybe they won’t.”

“I understand.” Katie agreed with Maeve. Though she might be a bit astonished when it came to thinking about actually having a future with him, she’d seen enough on Haversham Street to have been reminded that all sorts of things can happen without a person ever planning for them.