Deception at Sable Hill (11 page)

“You sure you don’t mind me staying?” He didn’t want to take any food her family needed.

“Positive. I invited you, didn’t I?” Maeve looked over her shoulder as she began washing carrots and potatoes. “We’ve got plenty tonight, brother. We’d love to have you join us.”

“Thank you for that.”

Maeve waved a hand. “It’s nothing. Now, how about you stop
dragging your feet and tell me a little bit about this favor you’d be needin’?”

“I’ve met a young lady who is interested in visiting Hope House.”

Setting down a potato, she frowned. “What happened? Did she lose her man? Is she homeless?”

He held up a hand. “It’s nothing like that. She wants to volunteer there.”

“Volunteer? What, she got an excess of time on her hands?” she joked.

“As a matter of fact, she does. But it’s more than that,” he added quickly. “She intends to help Hope House financially. Or become a benefactress or something like that.”

“A benefactress?” Maeve tilted her head to one side, staring at him hard. “What kind of girl is this?”

“A nice one.”
A
special
one
, he added privately.

A look of pure gladness crossed over her sister’s features. “You’ve met someone? When did this happen? And where? Do I know her?” She paused. “Is it Jamilyn Mikenney? She’s always had her eye on you, but I’ve never been of the mind that she was good enough for you. Did she finally get her claws in you?”

“Stop, Maeve. It’s not Jamilyn.”

“Is it Trinny Jamison?”

“It’s no one you know.”

“If I don’t know her, how do you know her?”

“I met her through work, but over time she’s become my . . . friend of sorts.” Of course, this was exaggerating things a bit much. He’d only really talked to her three times—all in the last twenty-four hours.

And he couldn’t exactly say they were now friends. Actually, he felt it was impossible to categorize his relationship with her. She seemed to trust him, while he was basically smitten.

Yes, their relationship was an interplay of disparities, he presumed. He thought she was beautiful and refined. Enchanting. She was everything he always imagined a woman could be, and he counted the moments spent in her company as some of his most gratifying.

For Eloisa, however, there was a very good chance that when she did ever think of him, it was only as someone who was a bare step above a butler. Though, now that he thought about it, the Carstairs’ butler, Worthy, was no doubt two steps above him on the social scale.

Still looking at him intently, Maeve wrinkled her nose. “What did you mean when you said she was your friend? What kind of woman would take up a friendship with you?”

“With me?”

“Sean . . .” She gritted her teeth.

Enjoying the novel experience of teasing her—really Maeve was the last person to ever enjoy being teased—he said, “I’m sure you didn’t mean that in quite the way it sounded. At least, I hope not.”

“Oh, away with you. You know what I meant. Who is she?”

Suddenly, he was rethinking his idea. How could he describe Eloisa Carstairs so a woman like Maeve would understand? “She’s simply a young lady I met while working on my current case.”

Maeve glanced at him sharply. “On a case, you say?” After a moment, she looked horrified. “Sean, you are trying to uncover the Slasher! Was she attacked?”

“No, but she has been places where he was.”

“Truly?” Another line formed between her eyebrows. “But I thought you said this man stalks society girls. I mean, that’s what the
Tribune
has been saying.”

“They’re right in this case.”

“So she is part of society. And she is rich too. And she has struck up your acquaintance. I’m finding this a right bit intriguing.”

“Maeve, there’s no reason for us to go down this path. I came to ask you a favor, not to divulge details about my personal life.”

“I wasn’t aware you had a personal life.”

“I do, and I’d like to keep it that way. Personal.” Well, he hoped he would have one eventually.

“Your cheeks are flushed. That means something. What is it about this girl?” she continued, her manner as feisty as a Doberman’s. “Is she special to you?”

“Perhaps she could be if our circumstances were different. However, I doubt Eloisa would ever even be permitted to be special to a man like me.”

“Eloisa is her name?” she asked slowly.

“Yes. Eloisa Carstairs.”

Her lips turned up. “That’s a pretty fancy name. And what do you mean by ‘be permitted’?”

“About what you would think. She has more than one person overseeing her.”

“Overseeing her? Whatever for?”

“You know, to make sure she doesn’t suffer a social mishap.” Inwardly, he rolled his eyes. Since when was he an authority on such things?

“A social mishap,” she repeated under her breath.

Sean could have kicked himself. The last thing in the world he wanted to do was reveal his feelings for Eloisa. But he didn’t seem to be able to do anything in a half-hearted way where she was concerned.

After tossing her sliced vegetables in with her roast, Maeve turned to him. “This Eloisa sounds like a very grand young lady. Very high and mighty, she does.”

“She is.” Was that a note of pride in his voice? A mistaken note, undoubtedly. “She’s very pretty. And a young lady of some repute.”

“And you are seeing her?” This time, she wasn’t even trying to hide the incredulousness and humor in her voice.

“Not like that. As I told you, we’ve become friends, of a sort. Which brings us back to Hope House. Would you please meet us there Sunday and show her around the place? She’s interested in learning more about it.”

“Hope House ain’t that kind of place, Sean. The last thing those girls there need is some uppity rich lady looking down their noses at them.”

“She is nothing like that.”

“They’re all like that.”

“Maeve, will you do this for me?”

“I don’t see why I should. I got far better things to do than show a spoiled rich girl how the other half lives.”

“Because I’ve asked you to. Could you do that, Maeve? Could you meet us at Hope House on Sunday afternoon? She wants to take a look around.”

“Sean—”

“Please, Maeve? Eloisa needs something more than I can give her. And I hate to admit it, but I’ve already told her you would be there.”

“Sean.” She glowered, but little by little her exasperated expression lifted, and she slowly smiled. “I’ll be there at two o’clock. If you two come traipsing in a quarter after four, don’t expect me to still be standing around.”

“Never.”

“I hope she’s worth it.”

She was. Though they’d only had a few conversations, Eloisa was fast becoming someone very important to him. Not that it mattered, of course. It wasn’t as if they would ever have a future. “She’s just a friend, Maeve. Just a friend who needs to give a helping hand.”

She sighed. “Now that that’s settled, is there anything else you’d be needing, besides a home-cooked meal and me helping out your lady-friend?”

“Only a pretty smile from you.”

“Jack would say you’d have to earn those.”

“No, sister. Jack would say you should smile a lot more, seeing as he’s such a good man and takes good care of you.”

At last her posture softened, as it always did when she talked about her husband. “I smile at my man when it’s warranted. And it ain’t always warranted, you know. He’s a good man, but he’s only a man.”

“You’re a hard woman, Maeve,” he stated, thickening his Irish accent so he sounded like one of the dock workers fresh off the boats.

She chuckled low, letting him know the tension between them had been broken. “Oh, Sean. I promise you this. You don’t know the half of it!”

CHAPTER 10

H
ope House was located in a section of the city Eloisa had only passed through by bus or elevated train. The area wasn’t a particularly dangerous one, but it was certainly not a place she’d ever had the occasion to visit.

Though now, as she walked up the narrow lane where the old house resided, Eloisa came to the realization that her existence had been even more sheltered than she’d previously thought.

The more she ventured out and about, the more she realized that she really hadn’t been to many places in the city at all. The more she gathered her courage and ventured beyond Sable Hill and its surrounding areas, the more it was apparent that she had much to discover about her hometown.

It made her excited and optimistic for her future. Made her wonder if the Lord had decided to enter her life again. Maybe even possibly leading her onto a new path where she could learn to see everyone and
everything with his eyes. See that there was beauty everywhere . . . she’d only need to be brave enough to look.

Sean glanced her way, concern flashing in his hazel eyes. This, she was learning, was a frequent occurrence. From the moment he’d met her at the lending library, he’d stayed firmly by her side, even going so far as to glare at men on the grip car who had eyed her just a little too closely. Knowing that he took her welfare so seriously made her feel safe.

In fact, the longer she was in his company, the more she felt at ease.

No, it was more than that. She felt free. Free to be herself.

When she glanced his way again, she was surprised to see that a hesitant curiosity now shone in his eyes.

“So, what do you think of it, Miss Carstairs?”

Forcing herself to look back at the house, she attempted to come up with the perfect descriptor. “It is intriguing.”

To her pleasure, he grinned. “Now there’s a polite way to describe it.”

She couldn’t resist smiling as well. Eloisa was slowly coming to realize that when the lieutenant relaxed, his faint Irish accent grew a little stronger, and his smiles became more frequent. Unfortunately for her, those things made his already handsome features mesmerizing. One warm look from him made her heart beat a little faster and tugged at her carefully built defenses.

With a firm resolve, she turned away from him and back to the house.

What an architectural muddle it was! A sprawling structure, its two stories and attic were a bohemian blend of limestone, whitewashed bricks, and old-world charm. She imagined that one could easily get lost inside it. Perhaps not even be found for days.

At one side of it lay a small park, really little more than a mass of abandoned land and weeds. On the other side rested a row of cramped
houses, each looking in danger of falling apart during the next winter storm.

“I’m not merely being polite, Sean. I truly am intrigued by its possibilities. This house has character. Potential too.”

“I suppose it does have potential.”

Eloisa turned to him, then felt her neck flush as she realized he was looking at her and not at the house. Another rush of nervousness coursed through her. Something was happening between them that she wasn’t sure she was ready for.

Clearing her throat, she asked, “Uh, what was Hope House originally, Sean?”

“It was originally constructed as a home for some high-and-mighty banker. When the area started to decline, he sold it to a developer. It was then used as a hospital. Later, an asylum.”

She shuddered. The house’s history was indeed varied and, she decided, somewhat dark. Imagining the cluttered rooms inside, and what the occupants who had lived in them must have been like, she wondered if it really could become worthy of its current name—Hope House.

Sean continued. “Eventually, this place became a boarding house. Then, just three years ago, a widow from Maine decided to give it its new identity.” He flashed a quick smile. “Next thing we knew, she was telling anyone who would listen about this place of refuge. Before long, women and children were moving in. My sisters—especially Kate and Maeve—volunteer there.”

“And the women and children are doing all right?”

“Maeve says they are.” He clasped his hands behind his back. “It goes to show you that almost everything and nearly everyone can rise out of the ashes.”

She liked how he’d used the words
almost
and
nearly
. It made
his statement more believable. “That’s a lovely sentiment, don’t you think?”

Her escort scoffed. “Lovely?”

A cool wind blew down the street, rustling leaves as she shrugged. “It’s nice to imagine that almost anything or anyone can be repurposed. Become useful.”

“I believe that to be true. But, uh, I feel I should warn you that only small miracles are being done here.” His voice was full of doubt as he glanced around the rather rundown area and then stepped a little closer. “Miss Carstairs, are you sure this is where you want to spend your time? I can’t help but think that other places in far better areas would be just as pleased to be at the receiving end of your attentions and money.”

“Your suggestion is a bit premature, don’t you think? I haven’t even stepped foot inside.”

“I merely don’t want you to feel like this is the only place where you might do some good.” Before she could say a word, he rushed on. “For example, I have heard that many women do good works with their church. Or serve on committees. Or, um, attend teas.”

“Perhaps I should point out that I have more experience than you with charity work and volunteer opportunities for young women.”

He flinched at her tart tone. “Forgive me. I meant no disrespect.”

“I know you want to protect me, Lieutenant, and I’m grateful for your concern. But I already am quite active in the ladies’ auxiliary club at my church. Furthermore, our city’s library already has a large share of benefactors. The last thing it needs is someone like me to get involved. But this place certainly does.”

“But—”

“No buts.” She cut him off as she started up the home’s front walk. “This is a place that has reinvented itself several times, much like its occupants.”

He scratched his brow. “You might be romanticizing things a bit. The women and children here are starting over. However, they are much like this area. They didn’t have a whole lot to begin with. Now they’re only more rundown.”

She was surprised he didn’t see the bigger picture.