Page 39 of The Devil in Oxford
He grinned, tapping the folded newspaper on the desk. “Icanread.”
Heat flushed to my cheeks. Of course he did.
If he was aggrieved by my lies, he did not let on. “Inspector Beecham found you, called to have you brought here. Said a shopkeeper phoned in with reports of a woman who’d been murdered and left outside Harker’s Curiosity Museum.” His gaze drifted down to my ripped skirt. “It was a lucky stroke I had phoned for a physician a few moments before you arrived. He should be here and can make certain you’re all right. I hope it’s not too uncomfortable on the bench, it was better than the cells at any rate.” A dark flicker of worry ran across his expression as he looked at my soiled clothes.
I winced, shaking my head. “No. I’m fine. Just a little banged up is all. I hope you didn’t get into too much trouble with the inspector after allowing me down to the cells. I… I am sorry I lied to you.”
He gave me a lopsided smile. “Ah, I’ve had worse. Besides I’m sure Old Mueller needed some company. It gets lonely down there and he was always a nice old man.” A strange expression crossed his face at mention of Mr. Mueller but he gave his head a slight shake. “I’m glad you’re not too badly hurt. I was worried when you wouldn’t wake.”
“How long have I… ah… been here?”
He rubbed his jaw. “Not long. A half hour at most. You do know you talk in your sleep?”
I blinked at him. “I hope I didn’t say anything too embarrassing.”Or incriminating, as I’d broken any number of laws lately.
He let out a laugh. “Nah. You kept saying how sorry you were. But when you stopped—”
There were voices from behind the closed door leading to the cells. Shouting and quite the commotion. “What’s that about?” I tilted my head toward the door, changing the subject from my peculiar sleeping habits and whatever it was I might have been apologizingforin my dreams.
“There was a bit of trouble last night at the University. We’re about full to bursting, miss. Veterans, most of them. A few laborers. There’s been unrest all over the country in the last few years. It wasonly a matter of time before it finally boiled over here in town.” I noticed a faint purple blush of a bruise raising on his cheekbone. “Inspector Beecham keeps saying it wasn’t a riot, but it’s the closest I’ve ever seen to one.”
Ruan had downplayed what occurred, but it must have been truly terrifying. I shifted on the bench, wrapping the blanket more tightly around me as the old radiator popped and hissed. “You said the inspector found me by the museum?”
Faint lines appeared at the edges of his mouth. “He did. He telephoned from the cobbler’s shop to have you brought here and be sure you were well enough, so I did.”
“Thank you, Jack.”
He gave me a half-hearted smile. “It’s the least I could do. I tried to clean your—” He gestured with two fingers to his temple. “I also took the liberty to be sure you weren’t bleeding anywhere else. I’m sorry, miss. I’d have asked your permission if you were awake.”
I smiled at him—it was difficult to be angry at such a sweet boy. “I appreciate it. Truly I do. Is Inspector Beecham still here?”
Jack cleared his throat. “Ah. No, miss. Well, heis, but he’s been in the cells since he returned. As you can hear, there’s been a bit of trouble with a couple of the rioters.”
The commotion from behind the door grew louder. I raised a brow, wincing at the pull in the muscle on my temple. “Is everything all right down there?”
Jack weighed his words and opened his mouth to answer when the front door swung open and Ruan stormed into the station. As soon as he spotted me, his expression softened. Relief surged through his body as he took me in, from my bloody brow to my torn skirt.
I raised my fingers to the wound self-consciously and swallowed hard. I’d forgotten how intense it was to be the focus of his full attention.
“I’ll see to it,” he murmured, coming to my side and brushingmy hand away with his own before tilting my head to get a better look.
“I’m fine. Perfectly fine.”
“I am the judge of that.” An irritated muscle jumped in his jaw as he continued to probe with his rough fingers.
I’m all right. But we should talk.
He gave me a curt nod, barely perceptible to anyone but me. He’d heard me.Good.I needed him to. What use was this peculiar ability if we couldn’t take advantage of it at times like this?
“You must be the physician the clinic was sending over,” Jack said, looking between the two of us. A sudden dawning of recognition then flashed in his eyes. “Wait, aren’t you the fellow I saw at the University last night?”
Ruan stilled, his fingers gently resting beneath my chin.
The young man examined Ruan with peculiar intensity as raw panic took hold. He recognized Ruan.… What exactlyhadhappened last night? “You are,” Jack continued, sounding far more sure than before. “You’re the one who helped Professor Laurent leave before you came back to tend to the wounded. I wondered why anyone in their right mind would come back into the fray… but it certainly makes more sense now.”
Ruan exhaled softly, as anxious about the young constable’s recollections as I.
Jack glanced over his shoulder to the door to the cells. “Once you’ve made certain that she’s well, I would appreciate if you could join me downstairs. It was the reason I phoned over to the clinic. As I said to your colleague over there, some of the fellows from last night were brought in. As you can imagine, they’ve been giving us hell—pardon my language, miss.”
