At long last he looked at Katie, this time really seeing her. She felt his gaze skitter across her face, suddenly noticing her rumpled dress, her tear-streaked face. “What happened?”
“Miss Carstairs was attacked at the train station! My brother wants to see you right now! Please, Owen.”
He closed his eyes. “Eloisa,” he murmured. When he opened his eyes again, a new, steely determination had settled in. “Let me grab my overcoat and we’ll go.”
“Just sent Peabody for it,” Barnaby said as he tossed the expensive overcoat to Owen. “Do you want me to get backup?”
“Yes. I don’t know what we’ll find. Which train station, Katie?”
“Union.”
Barnaby nodded. “I’ll get the word out.”
Owen barely nodded before clutching Katie’s elbow in a firm grip and guiding her out the door. “Tell me everything,” he said as they stepped onto the crowded street.
“We were on our way to Hope House,” she said as she struggled to keep up his pace while at the same time avoiding running into the people Detective Howard was dodging.
When they stopped at an intersection, barely avoiding getting run over by a milk cart, he glanced her way. “Already? We weren’t going to meet for several hours.”
She rushed on while they were still stopped. “We wanted to spend some time at Hope House before you came. Sean and I went to Sable Hill, picked up Miss Carstairs, and took the grip car to the station uptown, then got on the train. When we got to Union Station and got off, I realized I’d left my purse on the train.”
“And?”
She hated this part, because it showed how everything that had happened was all her fault. “And then I pulled away and got back on the train and Sean stayed with me,” she said as the street cleared and Owen pulled her forward, continuing at a breakneck pace.
“Next?” he barked, not looking at her, looking only straight ahead with what could only be described as a murderous expression on his face.
“Well, Miss Carstairs had gotten out of the train ahead of us on the platform and it was crowded . . . we heard a scream. We looked all over the platform and then saw Miss Carstairs lying there, bleeding.”
His hand tightened on her arm, likely bruising. Katie didn’t protest his iron clasp, though. She deserved every bit of his anger, and every bit of his frustration with her. She was the one at fault.
“Is she alive?” he asked after they walked another twenty feet.
“I-I think so. Sean kept reaching for her pulse. But he had me run for you right away. I hope she’s still alive.”
Glancing her way, he bit out, “She better be.”
Katie flinched at the dark look on his face. He was such a handsome man, so elegant with his lean body, blond hair, and dark eyes. She’d fallen asleep night after night thinking about him, imagining him gazing at her in a tender way.
Imagining him thinking she was worth his time.
Then, when he’d asked Sean about tea, she’d let her pride get the best of her, and she’d begun to think she was worth his time. That she could be his equal.
In her more fanciful moments, she’d even imagined asking Eloisa to help her become more ladylike. She’d wanted to do everything she could to fit into his world.
But now, seeing that dangerous look in his eyes, she knew without a doubt that she’d lost her opportunity. Sean had told her Detective
Howard and Miss Carstairs were good friends. He’d escorted her to several society events. They were comfortable with each other.
They understood each other.
And because she’d been so busy thinking about one day being as elegant as Miss Carstairs, she’d gone and left her purse on the train. That mistake could have very well cost Eloisa her life.
They were only two blocks away from the station now. Two blocks from discovering if her worst fears were realized. Two blocks away from being separated. She knew enough from being around Sean that Owen would be all business, barking orders, asking questions, taking care of things. There would be no time for her to tell him what had to be said.
Which meant, unfortunately, that she had to say the words right then and there.
“I’m very sorry, Detective Howard. I know this is my fault, and though it probably means nothing to you, I am very, very sorry.”
He abruptly stopped at another intersection. Then turned his head and stared. “What?”
Tears were now running down her cheeks. Again. And though she was blubbering like the child he no doubt thought she was, she forced herself to continue. “If I hadn’t forgotten . . . Eloisa would have stayed by Sean and she wouldn’t . . . wouldn’t have been hurt. I am sorry.”
They started walking again, but to her amazement, instead of picking up their already frenetic pace, he slowed. Pulled her to a quiet spot next to the red brick side of an older apartment building.
And then, very slowly, he released his firm grip on her arm and pressed both of his palms on her cheeks.
Forcing her to gaze at him.
Her stomach in knots, she raised her chin and met his gaze. This was her penance, she realized. She had to face him and take his anger. It was only right.
But to her amazement, the hard, cold, calculating look she’d spied mere moments ago was replaced with something far different. “Katie,” he rasped, his voice so filled with emotion it sounded painful. “Listen to me closely. What happened to Eloisa is not your fault.”
She appreciated his lie. She did! And another time—maybe when she was a little bit younger—she would have grasped that excuse and held onto it as tightly as she could.
But she’d learned recently that with maturity came responsibility. And with that responsibility came the knowledge that she’d made an error, and that error might very well have cost someone her life. “Oh, but it is, Detective Howard. If I hadn’t—”
With a shake of his head, he cut her off. “No. Katie, men and women ride the trains all the time without police protection. It wasn’t your fault for being human or Eloisa’s fault for stepping into the crowd without an escort on her arm. All the blame goes to the man who did this.”
“I know, but Sean told me—”
“Katie, the Slasher attacked Eloisa. For some reason, he sought her out and wanted to do harm. He is at fault. Not you.”
“But—”
He pressed his palms to her cheeks for a second before wiping off her tears with his thumbs. “Not you, Katherine. Sweetheart, no one is blaming you.”
For a split second, she wondered if he even realized that he had called her by her Christian name. That he called her sweetheart. She thought not. It was obvious he was too upset to even realize he was being so free with her.
But she realized it. And more importantly—at least to her—she cherished his familiarity. Welcomed it.
And with that in mind, she gazed up at him. And for the first
time, didn’t even try to hide everything she was feeling. For the first time, she let everything in her heart, all her daydreams, all her wishes, shine through for him to see. “Not even you?” she whispered.
Something flickered in his eyes. “Especially not me.”
She had no words to respond to that. Instead, she allowed herself to smile. Even though they needed to hurry to Sean and Eloisa.
And even though, very, very soon, Owen would likely not want another thing to do with her because she’d already caused so much harm.
But then, to her surprise, he enfolded her into his arms and briefly hugged her tight.
She pressed her face into his shoulder, breathed in his clean scent, and felt better.
When he released her, he grabbed for her hand and started walking. When they reached the train station, he walked straight ahead, his gaze alert and focused. “Which direction?” he barked.
When they got to the platform area, Katie pointed to their left. “She’s over there.”
Immediately he dropped her hand and started forward. Three police officers standing off to the side saw him and nodded deferentially. “Sir,” one said.
“Watch over Miss Ryan,” he said, vaguely pointing behind him in her direction. Not even looking her way.
“Miss?” the first one asked. She immediately recognized Sergeant Fuller. “Stand over here for a moment, if you please. Out of the way.”
She stood. Stood in the shadows, trying not to cause any more trouble. Trying to do what they asked because she now knew it didn’t matter what she might want to do. The fact was, she was only someone everyone wished wasn’t there at the moment. She was a responsibility, a hindrance no one there wanted to have.
“Move a little closer to me, Miss Ryan,” Sergeant Fuller repeated as another train pulled into the station and another crowd departed.
Eager to obey, she stepped closer. Not saying a word as both she and the policemen watched Owen stride forward and then kneel down next to Sean and another man who looked to be a physician.
Then, suddenly, it was as if they were all in a wind tunnel and nothing mattered twenty feet beyond them. The other people in the area might have been rendered mute for as much as she heard them.
Every sense was completely focused on Sean, Owen, and Eloisa. To her, nothing else mattered but Eloisa’s survival. It was almost as if she knew deep in her heart that if Eloisa didn’t survive, she wouldn’t either. And that Sean and Detective Howard would always feel as if they’d failed her.
Heart in her throat, she watched the doctor lean back, allowing Owen to edge in. Katie was just close enough to see Owen move closer, hover over Eloisa’s beautiful face. To his right, her brother looked ten years older. Blood soaked his shirt, his coat jacket, and traces of it smudged his cheek.
But it was the expression on his face that she couldn’t look away from. Devastation, but also hope. And love shone in his eyes.
Katie gasped as she realized just how much Eloisa had come to mean to him.
“Careful, Howard,” Sean ordered as Owen leaned over Eloisa, cradling her head in his hands.
“Eloisa?” Owen called to her. “Eloisa? Dear?”
Sean reached out. Grasped his shoulder. “She’s lost a lot of blood. She will most likely always be scarred from this. But she is alive.”
Owen popped his chin up. Looked at Sean directly in the eyes.
“She is going to survive, sir,” the physician said.
“Thank God,” Owen said. “Thank you, Jesus. Thank you, Lord.”
As the tears she couldn’t seem to help continued to fall, Katie echoed the very same sentiments to herself.
If Eloisa was still alive, then everything was going to be okay. And she owed it all to God.
T
he physician—Stone was his name—had ebbed the flow of blood enough to move Eloisa. “I’ll stitch her up properly when she’s off the ground,” he murmured. “Do you wish her to go to the hospital or my clinic?”
Sean had seen enough of the clinics in the area to have a healthy aversion to them. Many were dirty and filled with people he wanted Eloisa to avoid at all costs. “No.” Thinking quickly, he realized Maeve’s house was no more than five blocks away. “We’ll take her to my sister’s house. She can rest there for a few hours before we risk taking her home.”
Just as he signaled two uniforms, Owen got in his space. “Sean, she needs to go home. Her parents will be frantic when they hear what has happened.”
“Yes, but they don’t know anything yet.”
“Which is my point exactly.”
“And my point is that she needs to be moved and resituated quickly.” Seeing the two men standing at their side, waiting, he started barking orders. “One of you take charge of this area. Finish taking statements, clearing the space. You, go to my sister’s house and let her know that I’ll be arriving with Eloisa and a physician presently.” After scribbling Maeve’s address on a page in his notebook, he tore it off and handed it to another uniformed officer. “Quickly, now.”
Owen’s face hardened. “Sean, think about this.”
Sean ignored Owen as he knelt and carefully lifted Eloisa into his arms. Her limp body should have felt awkward. In fact, nothing could have been further from the truth. She felt light and supple in his arms. And even after lying on the platform for far too long, she still smelled as fresh and sweet as he’d always imagined she would in his dreams.
“Sean, we need to think about what is best for Eloisa.”
“I am. We need a hack.”
“I sent Fuller to summon one,” Owen said, his speech clipped.
“Very good. We’ll take that to my sister’s, if you don’t mind.” He started walking toward the exit, glaring at anyone who was either staring at Eloisa or too slow about getting out of his way.
By his side, Owen was glaring at him. “Sir, what would you like me to do?”
He paused. “Go inform Mr. and Mrs. Carstairs about what happened. And please, keep Katie with you.”
“Why?”
“I don’t have time to explain, but something was off about this. After you and Katie inform Eloisa’s parents, come to my sister’s house.” He raised an eyebrow. “You remember how to get to Maeve’s, I presume?”
“I do.”
“By that time, Stone will have finished his handiwork and
hopefully Eloisa will have come around a bit. Then when she’s ready, you can escort her home.”
“Me?” he asked as they walked through the set of double doors.
When the doctor trotted ahead toward a rather fine-looking buggy and team of two horses, Sean followed, Owen right beside him. “It will be better if you escort her home,” Sean said. “We both know that.”
“Better for whom?”
“Eloisa,” he said as Dr. Stone opened his buggy’s door.
“Let me have her while you get in,” Owen said.
Sean was reluctant to give her up even for that small amount of time, but he knew his partner’s actions were in the right. After carefully easing Eloisa into Owen’s arms, he got into the buggy, then held out his arms again for Owen to place her in his lap.
It wasn’t easy, maneuvering a young lady around the way they were. And though they did their best to keep the manhandling to a minimum, he had no doubt that they were causing her discomfort. His suppositions were confirmed when she moaned softly.
Both he and Owen froze, but it was Stone who saved the day. “If she’s moaning, that means she’s coming out of it. That’s good.” Staring at her neck, he frowned. “Unfortunately, she’s bleeding again.”