Deception at Sable Hill (6 page)

Sean had a feeling his whole block might fit into this mansion’s expansive grounds.

He had just straightened his hat and was preparing to knock when the door opened and the Carstairs’ eminently proper butler, Worthy, faced him yet again.

“Good morning, Lieutenant Ryan,” he said around a little bow. “Miss Carstairs is expecting you. Won’t you please come in?”

While he handed Worthy his hat and coat, he tried not to stare at the large foyer. Large oil paintings framed in ornately carved, gilded frames lined the cream walls. Beneath his feet was an intricately patterned, black-and-white marble floor. Just beyond were numerous rooms and a wide hallway.

Worthy cleared his throat. “This way, sir.”

Sean followed the butler down the hallway covered in a combination of sea-blue, turquoise, and ivory wallpaper. He had only the vaguest sense of a few framed portraits before entering a somewhat stark sitting room.

Where Eloisa and her parents rose to greet him.

Only years of experience helped him not to show his surprise. He had imagined he would be meeting with Eloisa privately. Disappointed that he would have to divide his attentions between her and her parents,
he gave in to temptation and let his gaze settle on Eloisa. Concern filled him as he noticed how shuttered her expression was.

Her parents’ expressions appeared far more open. Their mouths looked pinched, their gazes solemn. And, it seemed, they were far more suspicious.

He stopped and nodded to the three of them. “Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Carstairs. Miss Carstairs. I am Lieutenant Detective Ryan. Please forgive the intrusion. I’m assuming that Miss Carstairs told you about the unpleasantness of last evening?”

“I did,” Eloisa murmured.

“I suppose we all must do our duty,” Mr. Carstairs blustered.

“Yes.”

Still, Eloisa’s father stared at him as if he were an unfortunate who had stumbled inside. “Must say that it’s a bit out of the ordinary to welcome the police into our home.”

“I expect that it is, at that.” Sean knew better than to point out that he wasn’t exactly being welcomed.

“Far more surprising to hear that you escorted our daughter home last night.”

“Yes, sir. I wanted to keep her safe. I’m grateful that she granted me the honor.” He carefully glanced Eloisa’s way, then forced himself to keep his expression neutral and not soften as was his want. Today she was wearing a pale-yellow morning gown. It was intricately detailed and extremely flattering to her coloring, though he supposed there was little in her wardrobe that wasn’t.

She was also regarding him discreetly.

It took everything he had not to lose himself in her aquamarine gaze.

“It was very kind of you to trouble yourself like that,” her mother said. “Though I imagine one in your line of work is called upon to perform many such services.”

“Indeed, ma’am.”

Eloisa glared at her mother. “Mother, Lieutenant Ryan solves crimes. He is not part of an escort service.”

Mrs. Carstairs sniffed. “Nevertheless . . .”

Sean decided to offer Eloisa’s mother an out. “Nevertheless, I was happy to be of service.”

Mr. Carstairs waved a hand. “Sit. Sit, Ryan. Coffee? Water?” He turned to his wife. “Is anything on its way?”

“I believe so. I expect Worthy told Mrs. Nelson that a policeman arrived.” She worried her bottom lip. “Though I’m not sure if it is proper to serve beverages to police who are here in an official capacity?”

Before he could mention that he actually hadn’t come only to question Eloisa, that he’d also wanted to reassure himself that she was suffering no ill effects from witnessing the aftermath of Danica’s attack, Eloisa spoke. “Mother, don’t be so rude.”

“I’m only being honest, dear.”

“Regardless of what your deportment classes have taught you, Audra, I would still like some coffee,” Mr. Carstairs said.

Mrs. Carstairs picked up a sterling silver bell. “Then I shall make sure it is on the way, Evan.”

While her mother rang the bell, Sean glanced back at Eloisa. To his surprise and delight, she smiled for the briefest of moments before schooling her features into one of relative calm.

The bell was answered immediately by Worthy, who informed them that a teacart—with coffee for Mr. Carstairs—was being prepared by Mrs. Nelson and would be arriving within a matter of minutes. After the servant left, Evan Carstairs leaned forward on his elbows. “Have you apprehended Danica Webster’s assailant yet?”

“Not yet, I’m afraid.”

Not looking pleased with the answer, he shot another question
Sean’s way. “Well? Is it the work of the Society Slasher?” Evidently, he was not concerned about offending the sensibilities of his wife and daughter.

“The evidence suggests that,” Sean replied, thankful he was adept at answering questions without revealing very much at all.

“Well, then?” Mr. Carstairs barked impatiently. “What is taking you men so long to make an arrest?”

Knowing that Evan Carstairs’s harsh tone was a result of worry for his daughter, Sean weighed his words carefully. “There are a great many reasons, including the possibility that the Slasher might be known to the women he attacked.”

“Surely not,” Mrs. Carstairs said with a decisive shake of her head. “Of course only a madman would be running about, cutting women with sharp objects.”

“It is a crime that makes no sense, but please know we are doing everything in our power to discover the attacker as soon as possible.”

Before either parent could fire off another question, Eloisa turned to him. “Lieutenant, please, could you tell me how Danica is recovering?”

His voice gentled. “I have not stopped by her house this morning, miss, but from what I heard last night, it seems she will be just fine. She may be slightly scarred, and I am sure she is shaken by the attack, but other than that, the doctors feel she will eventually recover completely.”

“Her scars are unfortunate,” Eloisa’s mother said. “They’ll ruin her chances for an engagement this season.”

Eloisa winced. “Mother, surely you don’t mean to sound so callous?”

“I’m only stating the truth.”

Sean kept his silence, feeling helpless as he watched Eloisa clench her hands tightly together on her lap.

“We will have to pay her family a call soon, Eloisa,” Mrs. Carstairs said. Smoothing her skirts, she added, “It can’t be helped. I will need
to do some thinking about what is the appropriate space of time. One mustn’t be too eager to visit, you know.”

“You will do what is right, dear. You always do,” Evan replied. Turning to Sean, his tone turned abrupt again. “Now that that is taken care of, do you need anything else?”

As a matter of fact, Sean felt he needed many other things, the least of which was that he wished to have a moment to speak to Eloisa in private. It was obvious she would never tell him anything of worth in front of her parents.

Luckily, Sean was prevented from answering right away by the arrival of a brass cart filled with a teapot, a coffeepot, a tray of currant scones, and a dish of tarts. All of it looked finer than anything he’d had the pleasure of sampling.

“Looks like we’re eating too,” Mr. Carstairs stated. “Good. I’m starved.”

“Yes, dear,” his wife murmured as she began serving. “Detective, what would you like?”

Though the treats looked tempting, visions of his thick fingers maneuvering the fragile china cups propelled him to refuse the offering. “I’m afraid I must beg off. I appreciate your offer, but I must admit that I also came to ask Miss Carstairs more questions about last night.”

Her father waved a hand curved around a lemon-curd tart. “Ask away, then.”

After sharing a glance with Eloisa, Sean forced a thread of regret in his voice. “Forgive me, but it would be best if I spoke with her privately.”

Mr. Carstairs paused in mid-bite. “Surely not.”

Her mother sniffed. “You might not realize this, Detective, but it isn’t quite appropriate for you to converse with Eloisa privately.”

Against his will, his cheeks heated. “All the same—”

“Mother, I will be fine with Lieutenant Ryan,” Eloisa interrupted.

Her mother, who had been filling her own plate, paused. “What could you possibly have to tell him that you couldn’t say in front of us?”

“It won’t take long,” Sean said.

Mr. Carstairs’s eyes narrowed. “What game are you playing, Ryan?”

Sean hardened his voice. “Not a one, sir. I’m only doing the job the city trusts me to do.”

Mrs. Carstairs fussed with the lace bordering her wrist. “I still don’t think it is proper for a young lady such as Eloisa to have private conversations with a policeman.”

“There is nothing wrong with being a policeman, Mother,” Eloisa retorted. “You know Owen Howard is one.”

Mrs. Carstairs’s cup rattled in her saucer. “Perhaps we could speak about this another time, dear.”

Sean was about to point out that he was not there on a social call when Eloisa stood up.

“Lieutenant Ryan, I know it is cool outside, but perhaps you would allow me to show you the gardens in the back?”

Her mother sputtered. “Eloisa, this is not the time . . .”

Skillfully ignoring both of her parents, Eloisa smiled at Sean, the expression lighting her face. “My mother is right. The gardens are not quite the thing of beauty they are in the spring or summer, but they’re still quite beautiful.”

“Thank you, Miss Carstairs,” he murmured as he got to his feet. “I would like to see the gardens very much.” Turning to her parents, who now looked like a pair of disapproving statues, he nodded. “Again, I promise I won’t be long.”

And with that, he followed Eloisa out of the room and back down the hall. Her yellow dress once again captured his eyes and ignited his
imagination. It emphasized her delicate features and golden hair. The bustle was ornate and carefully hooked in a cascade of intricate folds. Remembering how one of his sisters had once begged their mother for enough fabric to create such a gown but had been promptly turned down, Sean realized that he finally understood the beauty of such a dress. It was everything feminine in the world.

But, perhaps, that was Eloisa?

She stopped in the foyer as Worthy mysteriously appeared and handed Sean his coat and hat. Another footman appeared with a velvetlined cloak for her. And then, with a flourish, Worthy opened the imposing front door again, and Sean followed Eloisa out.

Once the door was closed again, she smiled at him. “I’m so sorry about my parents and their blustering. I’m sure it was beyond horrible.”

“Not at all.” He was tempted to remind her that he’d seen far worse things than protective parents. That she should be grateful that they cared enough about her to do everything they could to keep her safe.

She wrinkled her nose. “How well you lie! I promise, when I informed my parents that you would be returning this morning, I had no idea they’d want to talk to you as well.”

“They did everything that was proper,” he said as he held out his arm for her to take.

As she took his arm, she gazed at him with a new, far cooler expression. “I am sorry. Am I making you uncomfortable?”

He had a lovely woman—the woman of his very secret affections— on his arm and was currently meandering along the grounds of a magnificent estate. Nothing should be wrong.

But the fact of the matter was that he was indeed uncomfortable, especially because though he would love to pretend that he was there only to chat about flowers and how pretty she looked in yellow, many other things needed to be discussed. “Miss Carstairs—”

“Couldn’t we simply call each other by our first names?”

“If that is what you would like, Eloisa. My name is Sean.”

Smiling, she nodded. “I know that.”

They walked a little farther from the house and entered the gardens, where only carefully trimmed evergreen hedges and some white chrysanthemums decorated their path.

“Eloisa, I didn’t lie when I said I needed more information from you about last night. About Danica.”

“All right.”

“Tell me what else you know of her.”

The broad question seemed to make her worried. “I don’t know her all that well.”

“But she is in your social circle.”

“She is, but I’m afraid it’s a rather large social circle.” After a slight pause, she said, “Danica and I were acquaintances at best. I haven’t shared a private conversation with her in some time.”

“I see.”

“Also, I was with you when we heard the scream, Sean. So I certainly didn’t see if she was conversing with someone before the Slasher attacked.”

“So you saw no one at the party who was unusual? Who was not part of your usual, uh, crowd?”

“Other than a policeman in an ill-fitting suit?” she murmured, her eyes softly teasing. “No.”

Though he knew she spoke the truth, he was still embarrassed about how out of place he’d looked. “I see.”

“Couldn’t Danica tell you anything?”

“Not at the moment. Miss Webster couldn’t give us any clues besides the fact that he was large and wore a black cloak. It’s regretful that she chose to be about the grounds alone.”

She shivered. “He may very well attack again.”

“I fear it is a possibility.” Actually, he’d had a frank discussion with his captain about that the evening before. They’d come to the conclusion that the Society Slasher was becoming more aggressive and taking more chances with every victim. Captain Keaton had even predicted he would likely kill his next victim if he wasn’t apprehended.

But of course there was no reason to share such a thing to a gently bred young lady like Eloisa.

Her bottom lip trembled. As he watched her fold into herself, keeping her emotions tightly contained, he had a sudden desire to wrap his arms around her and hold her to him.

“Eloisa, when we parted last night, and I said that I’d be returning, I’m afraid I led you to believe that I needed to question you further about last night’s incident.”

“Don’t you? You’ve already asked me some questions.”

“No. We were together when we heard the cry. Even if I thought you might know something—which I do not—you were not near the scene.” After glancing up at the house, he stopped near a cove of evergreens. “Eloisa, I wanted to talk to you about your . . . incident.”