“Speak nothing more to anyone and do not allow your friend to cause problems. For Dr. Pelton’s sake, we’ll keep this quiet for as long as possible.”
“I understand. Thank you.”
He took one sweeping glance at her, from monkey-nested hair to her scandalously trousered legs, before pivoting away. She might be the criminal in this case, but he would be the one suffering the consequences. No matter how quiet he kept her initial arrest, the politics of its occurring meant, at best, a dressing-down. At worst? He didn’t want to think about it.
CHAPTER3
LYDIA TUCKED HER FEET BENEATHthe plush chair and adjusted the borrowed rubber coat tighter around her body as the booking clerk of the Oliver Street station house ogled her again. What had she been thinking when she agreed to wear trousers? As a novelist, she should’ve considered what would happen if they were arrested. Even with Officer Hall’s attempt to conceal their appearance by borrowing raincoats, their scandalous apparel was still drawing the attention of everyone who passed.
It was either that or her red, hive-ridden face.
The clerk winced, then returned to processing paperwork.
She faced Theresa. “Please tell me it doesn’t look as bad as it feels.”
“I don’t know how it feels, but it looks bad. Really bad.”
Lydia dug her nails into a raised hive on her cheek. “Tell me again why we used oil paint instead of buying greasepaint.”
“Stop picking at it.” Theresa pulled Lydia’s hand away before anything resembling relief could be had. “I already had plenty of white oil paint in my paint box, and I needed my money to purchase Tipsy. I didn’t see the sense in buying something else when that would work as well. Although perhaps we should have stuck to removing it with soap instead of turpentine.”
Onlyperhaps? Lydia’s immediate reaction to the chemical ensured that hers was a face no one would forget, especially when displayed among the rogues gallery.
Officer Hall arrived with a rag in hand and a deep-set frown. “I’m afraid all I can offer is this. I didn’t find anything that would help in our medical supplies.”
The care in his molasses-colored eyes was as sweet as the cookies she often overindulged in. Too bad she couldn’t give up the cookies and indulge in endless eye-gazing instead. It’d be better for her waistline.
“Thank you.” She took the proffered wet rag that fortunately appeared new, leaned her head back, and draped it over her face.
The coolness helped, but clawing off every agonizing welt would be better.
“Are you certain that you shouldn’t go to a hospital or have a doctor sent for?”
She’d already assured him of that twice. “I’m having no trouble breathing or indications that I will. The only doctor I need is my father.” As much as she didn’t want Papa to know of her arrest and be disappointed in her, she trusted only him.
“I wish to notify him personally, but there’s one more thing I must do before I can leave.”
It seemed Officer Hall was intent on attending personally to everything connected to her arrest. She’d be surprised if anyone else knew she was Dr. Pelton’s daughter. But he knew, and his preferential treatment of her and Theresa both disappointed and made her dreamy.
She’d never been on the criminal side of things. The experience of being treated like a common crook would do wonders for adding realistic details to her stories. Unfortunately she hadn’t even seen what a holding cell looked, smelled, or felt like. Just imagine the information she could glean from actual criminals if placed in a cell! She’d ask where they socialized, if they had code words, and how they chose their targets.
But how could she hate the attention of a man with enough Mr. Darcy qualities to make her wish she were Elizabeth Bennet? At least the Elizabeth Bennet after visiting Pemberley.
“I’m fine.” She removed the rag to make speaking easier. “Do what you need to, but are you certain you shouldn’t put us in a holding cell so you don’t get into trouble with your superiors?”
“I’m certain. Just do me the favor of keeping out of trouble from here forward. I don’t wish to ever see you on the wrong side of my job again.”
“But you wouldn’t mind to see me on a proper one?”
Oh, that’s a good line.If only she had a pencil to write it down for future use in a romance novel.
“I’m not sure there is a proper one. In my line of work, there are only victims and perpetrators.” His gaze roved her face for a moment. “If your symptoms worsen, tell Officer Blythe immediately. He’ll take you directly to the hospital. There is a pitcher and a bowl at the desk for you to refresh the rag as needed. I’ll be back to check on you before I leave.” He strode off with the perfect masculinity of every hero in every dime novel she’d ever read or written.
And just like her heroines, she sighed audibly with a touch of swoon. Oh yes, he needed to be the hero of a novel—sooner rather than later.
Theresa elbowed her side. “You like him, don’t you? I’ve never heard you flirt so boldly before.”
“I wasn’t flirting. I was being witty and charming. I have to test, on occasion, what my heroines say, just so I know what a man’s real reaction would be.”
