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Thomas laughed nervously. Uncle didn’t appear as if he were feeling particularly jovial, however, and Thomas’s chuckle died in his throat. He nodded at my uncle, then leaned in.

“Please don’t confront him alone, Wadsworth. Act as if everything is normal.” He straightened when my uncle cocked his head. “Do give your father my regards, though. Perhaps even a kiss on the forehead. I’d like to remain on his good side, especially when I inform him I’m madly in love with his daughter.”

Shameless flirt. I watched Thomas run up the stairs, then tugged my apron off and tossed it into the makeshift laundry bin along with the others awaiting their nightly cleansing. Act as if everything was normal indeed. As if I’d listen to that absurd plea! A part of me was sad Thomas would miss the confrontation, but he’d have his hands full with Blackburn. I said good evening to Uncle and trudged up the stairs, letting the door shut tightly behind me, then paused.

It was better this way, actually. It seemed only proper that I’d be the one confronting Jack the Ripper on my own.

Father’s reign of terror would cease before a new day dawned.

Of that much I was certain.

TWENTY-SEVEN

A PORTRAIT WORTH CONSIDERING

WADSWORTH RESIDENCE,

BELGRAVE SQUARE

9 NOVEMBER 1888

I stood, hesitating, outside the door to our dining room, the very same room I’d eaten all my meals in, never knowing I’d been sharing food with a monster.

How many times had Father cut into his meat, imagining it instead as human flesh? As fiery as I’d felt on the way over here, the reality of what I was about to do was setting in. Nerves were twisting and writhing through my body, making me jump at every small sound. Even the beat of my own heart was causing a great deal of anxiety.

I had no idea what Father would have to say for himself, or what he might do should I enrage him. The only thought mildly comforting me was knowing my brother would be there, and he’d allow no harm to befall me.

I wished I had the same confidence in Father. But he was past the point of sanity now. Perhaps no amount of reasoning would convince him to hand himself over to detective inspectors. Perhaps I should’ve gone with Thomas and fetched a constable. I heard a utensil clank onto a plate, the sound muffled from this side of the door.

It was too late to run for assistance now.

I placed my hand on the doorknob, allowing myself a few breaths to pull my emotions together. Falling apart before I even confronted him wouldn’t do. If I were to show how scared I was, he’d sense it, lunging for my jugular, no doubt.

I removed my hand from the door, holding it about my throat instead. He could very well murder me. As Mr. Robert James Lees claimed he would. I blinked several times, regaining my composure.

How foolish I didn’t bring a weapon of my own! Why would I think he’d spare his own daughter?

Thank the stars Thomas wasn’t around, pointing out everything I was doing terribly wrong. Maybe I should creep back down the hall and run out into the night. I was without help, and without anything to defend myself.

An image of Mother’s sweet smile flashed before my eyes. Father had inadvertently destroyed her. Weapon or not, I’d not allow him to do the same to me.

I squared my shoulders, steeling myself for the battle I was about to encounter. It was now or never, and I’d procrastinated long enough. I turned the knob and threw the door open, striding inside like a dark angel sweeping down to deliver justice, rage burning behind my eyes as the door shook the wall upon contact.

“Hello, Fath—” Words faltered as the footman dropped a plate, its blue and white pieces shattering across the empty table. I fisted my hands on my hips, as if he were responsible for all the problems in the world, too incensed to feel guilt as he cringed away from my aggressive stance. “Where are my father and brother?”

“Gone, miss.” He swallowed hard. “Said they won’t be back for supper.”

Of all the miserable luck in the universe! I rubbed the

bridge of my nose. Of course the night I decide to confront the beast, he’d be packed up and gone. He probably sensed the noose being tied. I realized our footman was still staring, mouth agape.

Perhaps he was more afraid of my ensemble of death. He hadn’t seen me in my black breeches and riding habit yet, and that mixed with my raven locks probably painted quite the portrait of darkness. “Did they say when they’d return?”

He shook his head. “No, miss. But I got the feeling he meant they’d be gone for most of the evening. Lord Wadsworth said to leave the door unlocked and dim the lights when we settled in to bed.”

I gripped my fists tighter. If Father did anything to hurt Nathaniel, I’d rip him limb from limb before the queen had a chance to order it done herself. I relaxed my grip slightly. No need to worry our footman any more than he was.

“I’ll be in Father’s study awaiting his arrival,” I said, my tone cold and unfamiliar even to my own ears. “I do not wish to be disturbed under any circumstances. In fact, it’d be wise for you all to retire early. Have I made myself clear, then?”


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