Capturing the Devil (Stalking Jack the Ripper #4)(20)
“I adore it, Thomas.” I ran a finger over the dragon’s scaled head, words stuck in my throat. “I am honored you wished to share your family’s legacy with me.”
“I didn’t want you to think it was claiming territory.”
I laughed outright. “Oh, Thomas. I truly love you.”
Whatever shyness or uncertainty he’d felt earlier was gone. His attention was sure and steady, and he boldly inspected me. He moved his gaze from my eyes to my lips, where it lingered a moment. I swore the boy possessed the ability to set a person ablaze using one smoldering look. “I want you to always have choices.”
Choices. Those would be grand. I glanced at the mound of journals waiting for us on the table. There was much work to be done. So many mysteries left to unravel. My head knew we needed to focus on solving these crimes, but my heart wished to curl up in front of the fire, pull Thomas into my arms, and kiss him until we were both blissfully happy. I permitted myself one more moment of this fantasy life—pretended we were the sort of couple who needn’t trouble ourselves with anything other than reading the paper and tending to the house.
A mental image of a woman lying split open snapped me back to reality.
Ever in tune with me, Thomas helped me to my feet and sighed. “You start in on the journals; I’ll fetch us more tea.”
I snagged his arm and kissed him deeply. I ran my hands through his hair, then stepped back, pleased by his tousled, surprised look. “Bring some scones and clotted cream, too. And maybe a few more petit fours. I adore those little candied flowers on top.”
Around four o’clock, I gave up on the journals. Nathaniel had scientific notes mixed with quotes from Dante, Milton, and Shelley. His train of thought was hard to follow and it appeared as if madness had overtaken him, though I had a nagging feeling that I was missing a crucial clue hidden within his ramblings. No matter how hard I tried, I kept reading the same sentence, my gaze returning to the second hand of the clock as it anxiously ticked along.
Uncle had left nearly an hour ago to meet my father and aunt at the docks.
Each time a carriage rattled by, my heart pounded through my body in a wild, thrashing beat. I moved my new cane from one hand to the other, focusing on the smooth rosewood and fierce dragon to soothe my nerves. Liza and I had changed into finer dresses, and my lavender skirts were quite the contrast to my menacing, red-eyed dragon cane.
“Remember, your father worships me, Wadsworth.” Thomas dragged me from my spiraling worry, expertly reading each shift in my mood. “Leave charming him to me.”
My lips twitched upward. “Yes, well, if that’s true it’s a clear indication Father’s abusing his tonic again.”
“Or he’s got horrible judgment,” Liza added, grinning at Thomas’s scowl.
“Don’t be cross, Mr. Cresswell. I’m only stating facts. You know, those bits of logic and hard truth you adore subjecting the rest of us to incessantly?”
“Wonderful,” he said, “you’re both hilarious now.”
“You started it,” I said, now focused entirely on him and not my nerves.
Thomas offered an amused grin from behind the journal he’d been engrossed in all day. I very maturely stuck my tongue out, and his eyes darkened in a way that had my pulse speeding for other reasons. Despite my best efforts, my cheeks flushed warm and the rogue winked, turning his attention back to his reading material. I all but rolled my eyes.
Liza stood several times, drawing back the heavy velvet drapery, staring
down into the street. She sat beside me, picked up her needlework, then tossed it down and practically ran to the window the next time wheels clattered by. Her skirts seemed to increase in volume depending on her mood, and today they were ruffled and fluffed to within an inch of their lives. She was as nervous as I was. Perhaps a little bit more. Aunt Amelia was a force to be reckoned with on a good day. I feared today would not be one of her more gracious days.
“This is ridiculous,” Liza muttered. “It’s not as if our parents are going to murder us.” She glanced sharply at me over her shoulder. “They wouldn’t get away with murdering their own children, would they?”
“Depends on how well they dispose of your bodies.” Thomas just managed to dodge a pillow that flew by his head. I smiled as Liza huffed a few unladylike curses under her breath.
In a continued effort to give me freedom, my father had granted me permission to sail to New York with Uncle Jonathan and Thomas to assist with a forensic case, but Aunt Amelia had been worried into a fit when Liza vanished without so much as a note. Learning that her well-bred daughter had in fact run away to join a floating carnival likely turned all that fear into a raging fury. I suspected my aunt might become hysterical upon seeing Liza. She might very well lock her away in a tower.
I pasted on my brightest smile. “Your mother is going to be very relieved to see you.”
Likely after she let loose a litany of admonishments and chained Liza to her rooms for the remainder of her natural life. My cousin gave me the sort of look that called me on my lie, but she turned her attention back to the street, her face turning deathly pale.
“They’re here.”
“Very funny.”
“Truly.” Liza held a hand to her center. “Your father is stepping out from the hansom now.”