An Heiress to Remember (The Gilded Age Girls Club #3) - Maya Rodale Page 0,77

felt immediate relief. See—she didn’t need to trade her freedom to Dalton for safety!

Speak of the devil—she looked up to see Dalton. In her office. In daylight.

Her heart did flip-flop things just the sight of him.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” he said.

“Come in, Dalton. Detective Hyde and I were just concluding.”

She watched him observe Detective Hyde. She was the last woman Beatrice would want to meet in a dark alley; she was on the taller side, with a lean but muscled build, a wonderfully forgettable face that let her get away with anything. She was dressed in the attire of a cleaning woman, as it allowed her to operate in disguise and unnoticed in the store at any and all hours.

“Good morning, Detective Hyde. I’m glad to see you are investigating the matter.”

“Matters,” the detective corrected. And then she turned on him. “Where were you last night?”

Darn if Dalton didn’t blush to have this stout matron, dressed in the uniform of a Goodwin’s cleaning woman, demand to know what he’d been doing last night, where, with whom.

Beatrice laughed nervously and said, “It wasn’t him, Detective.”

The detective looked at them both and said, “I see.”

Beatrice blushed.

“I suppose he knows about last night’s vandalism?”

“He does.”

“Who the devil would do such a thing?” Dalton wanted to know.

Detective Hyde shrugged. “I’m guessing the same person who did all the other things.”

Beatrice saw him doing the math: the reading room destruction, the vandalization of her office door when he was here with her, the mirrors. And more still. She hadn’t told him about the other little things. Not between their idle chatter and passionate kisses.

“Yes, Beatrice mentioned there were more. But I suspect she neglected to inform me of the full extent of the trouble.”

“Just a few things,” she said with a shrug. Because she could see the conclusion that he was coming to and she didn’t like it one bit.

“You’re in danger,” he said. “I don’t like it.”

“Not particularly,” Beatrice replied.

But Inspector Hyde said, “Maybe.”

Beatrice watched the sudden transformation in Dalton as it sunk in. His eyes darkened, jaw tightened. And she saw him stand up taller, push his chest out, and do all the things men did to make themselves seem larger than life and intimidating.

It made her think of the duke, after she dared to stand up to him.

It made her feel like shrinking, in a misguided act of self-preservation.

“You’re in danger,” Dalton said again. “You need to leave here, immediately. We’ll hire some additional security for the store and you, though it would be for the best if you stayed home. Safe.”

“Don’t do that.” She sighed and closed her eyes. “Please don’t do that high-handed hero thing where you stomp around and declare you must protect me at all costs and you use it as an excuse to lock me in your bedroom. I will not be shut away at home. Again.”

“I wasn’t going to do that.”

She opened her eyes and gave him A Look. He’d literally just said he would do that.

“All right, I was about to do that. You have to admit it wouldn’t be the worst way to spend a few days.” He gave her a rakish smile that promised more of last night, and Detective Hyde saw and made A Look. And now this was turning into a scene. Now Detective Hyde would know that she was romancing the enemy.

She might doubt Beatrice’s commitment to the store, to the cause.

“Dalton . . .”

“How about I get you a pistol instead?”

“I want no part of guns or weaponry.”

“But I need you to be safe. I need to ensure that nothing bad will happen to you.” And the need and wanting in his voice was plain and her heart ached because it was happening. The thing she was so afraid of: entanglement. Only this time it wouldn’t be just a legal and monetary deal involving boatloads of lawyers. It was his heart and hers, their bodies, and the pleasures they shared last night. It was his fear. It would tie her up all the same and it scared her even more.

So it was with some trepidation that she asked, “What brings you here during regular business hours? Surely not this.”

“Good afternoon to you, too.”

“Good afternoon. But really—is there a business matter we need to discuss?”

“No. Yes. I do have a proposal of sorts. If we might have a moment alone?”

“Absolutely,” Detective Hyde replied. “I have an urgent matter of the utmost importance that requires my immediate attention that is