“Don’t distress yourself.”
Her eyes opened, and he was close now, and staring at her intently. His hand was warm on hers, encasing it in heat. Their eyes caught and held. Ellen was suddenly breathless.
“What mark did you see, Ellen, Miss Nightingale?” He removed his hand and sat back in his seat, and she could breathe again.
“Something on his forearm. A black…” Ellen tried to remember.
“A mark he’s had since birth?”
“No. It was drawn there. I’ve seen things like this in my uncle’s books. A circle, I think.”
“Would you be able to draw it?” he asked.
“I believe so.”
The carriage rolled to a stop outside 11 Crabbett Close, and Ellen hadn’t even realized they’d arrived.
“What is the time, please, Detective Fletcher?”
He pulled out his watch. “4:30 p.m.”
Teatime, Ellen thought. She knew her family would all have returned and would be waiting for her. Some happy, others angry. It was the angry ones she was worried about.
“Good day to you,” Ellen said. She needed to get out of this carriage and inside before Leo or Alex realized she’d returned.
“I’m coming in,” the detective said, and the look on his face told her she would not be able to dissuade him. “I wish to see if you recognize this mark on the man’s arm in one of your uncle’s books.”
“Not necessary, I assure you. I will come to you or send word if I remember anything else.” Ellen reached for the door. A large hand stopped her.
CHAPTERNINETEEN
“Not this time.” Gray lifted her arm. He then opened the door and stepped down. She glared at the hand he then held out to her but placed hers in it, and he helped her out of the carriage.
“I can step from a carriage.”
“I’m sure you can, and as a gentleman, I can assist you.”
“Detective Fletcher—”
“Miss Nightingale.” Gray cut her off and then bowed. He wasn’t a man who liked to tease or annoy people. If something needed saying, he said it. The rest he left to other people, and yet right then, he was enjoying teasing her.
“Why are you bowing?” Her brows drew together.
“It’s called respect.”
She muttered something, which he was sure would be unflattering, and stomped a few feet toward the steps that led to her home. Ellen then turned and came back to him.
Gray had been shocked after what she’d told him in the carriage about her visions. About the mark on the naked man and the argument between the Nicholson siblings. He couldn’t imagine the burden of seeing what she did. The sadness, the fear, and the anger. Trying to find sense in some of the ramble of imaginings she no doubt saw.
It was a wonder she was sane.
He’d felt the need to comfort her when she’d closed her eyes in the carriage. After she’d told him about feeling nauseous. He’d wanted to touch her hand to make sure she was all right. The look that passed between them had said so much, even though a word had not been spoken.
Ellen Nightingale felt the spark of attraction as Gray did. In that moment he’d wanted to lean closer and kiss her soft lips.
He had urges like any man, but he controlled them. But if Ellen Nightingale had touched him in any way, he would have touched her back.
“Take the carriage home please, Bentley, I will call for a hackney later.”
