Love Makes Us Monsters

Get Home Safely

“Ms. Webster,” the Inspector began but stopped once he saw my face. After a moment to process, his features became perplexed, his stance awkward. A sigh passed his lips. “Why are you sitting under a tree crying? In a park, no less.” He looked down over me curiously; his eyes seeming to take in every detail.

“It's no concern of yours.” I wiped my eyes dry with the sleeve of my dress.

“It's not because of our quarrel, is it?”

“No, sir, I am not that childish.” I sniffled and rose to my feet. Daniels was silent as I brushed my skirts free of their wrinkles. I took a deep breath to compose myself. The fact that the Inspector had followed me, let alone had stood there and watched me at a vulnerable moment, confused me. On the one hand, I was embarrassed; my pride wounded. On the other, I felt…glad. “Is there something that you needed?”

“I simply wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“I am.”

“You were just sobbing against a tree in the park. I don't think that is grounds for being well. Not emotionally, at least.” I flinched at that, not wanting to admit that he was right. “Would you like me to take you somewhere? Home or your office, perhaps?” He extended a hand to me.

“Sir, as much as I appreciate that you are being gentlemanly now, I feel it is only because you caught me in a bad moment. Men have two weaknesses. A woman’s smile and a woman’s tears. I will not take your pity.”

“I am merely attempting to apologize for my own rude behavior.”

His voice was becoming gruff and annoyed, with an underlying tone of tiredness.

“Then say ‘I apologize for being a pompous bastard, Ms. Webster.’ Do not avoid saying it because you may wound your pride.” I held my head high as I spoke those pointed words to him. I stood firmly; arms crossed over my chest; feet planted. He brought his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“You are a most infuriating woman,” the man mumbled with a sigh.

“How lovely an apology,” I sneered. “Good day, Inspector.” I walked past him to head out of the park. I was infuriating? If I was, then he…Well, he could go sod off! A hand grabbed my arm lightly and spun me back toward the man. I felt his confusion, annoyance, and…desperation? His eyes held mine as he spoke.

“Ms. Webster, I apologize that I have offended and upset you. That was not my intention. You seem to know what ways to get underneath my skin. In truth, if it were not for you, I may not have gotten that information from the Fowlers. As much as it aches me to say, you have helped me and become an asset to this case.”

“I accept your apology, as half-c****d as it was.” I took a calming breath as I attempted to ignore his warm hand still on my arm. His steel grey eyes had softened. Not much, but just enough for a keen eye to notice. From the contact of his hand, I felt something else come through clear as a bell.

Oh, yes, there was an attraction.

I felt my cheeks heat at that.

Daniels studied my face, especially when I blushed, then his gaze moved to his hand on my arm. He cleared his throat as he quickly withdrew it, mumbling a quick pardon as he adjusted his coat. Behind him, I noticed the sky had become colorful. The sun was beginning to set. A beautiful pastel pink and purple sky with illuminating blood orange. A breathtaking sight. Almost as if it were a painting.

Was it already so late?

“May I take you…home, Ms. Webster? A lady should not be...u-unescorted in our city. At any time. Of day.” The man was fumbling over his words. Had I rattled this man?

“Please,” was all I could manage.

I mulled over all of the emotion I had felt from him.

His actions and mannerisms.

Hesitantly, he offered his arm. I accepted, also hesitant. As we walked in sync to the street, the Inspector cleared his throat again and tugged at his shirt collar. It somehow made me smile. He evidently was not a Casanova. Or, should I say, he was not a people person in the slightest. He reminded me more of a Mr. Darcey. When we reached the cobblestone streets, he whistled with his free hand for a carriage, then waved it to grab a coachman’s attention. Within a minute one pulled up.

“After you, ma’am,” Daniels said as he released his arm from my grasp to open the carriage door. As I ascended the steps, his hand took up mine to assist me. The contact was surprising. He's just being a gentleman. I felt my cheeks heat and was thankful of the darkness in the carriage as I sat. He followed in after, sitting across from me. “To Primrose Hill , please.” With that, the carriage was in motion.

We sat in silence until we arrived at my home.

The Inspector opened the carriage door and got out first, offering his hand to help me out. Hesitantly, I accepted his hand once more and descended the carriage stairs.

“Thank you for escorting me home, Inspector.”

“I live to serve, Ms. Webster. Have a good evening.”

“A good evening to you as well, sir.”

When I released his hand, I felt an ache. As much as I regretted to admit it, as infuriating as he could be, I enjoyed the challenge this man presented. I enjoyed even sitting in a carriage in silence with him. With how things had been this last week, he was a welcome distraction. Well. Partially welcome.

“Get home safely, Inspector,” I said with a somber smile.

Then, I turned to head inside. I focused on the clicking of my shoes on the coblestreet. One, two, three…Counting on until I was at the steps. One, two, three… I gripped the door handle, twisted, and pushed. When I finally closed the front door, I realized my heart had been racing. Pounding like a drum.

The bastard, I thought with a grin.