Jacob tossed the newspaper on the seat and blew out a breath. “Let the farce begin.”
“Farce?” she asked, climbing out of the carriage without his help. Not that she needed it or wanted it, but there had been a time when he’d behaved like a gentleman to her.
“What else would you call this?” He waved dismissively at the rest home of the Royal Veterans’ Society.
She tilted her head back to take the building in. One of the best structures in town, in one of the growing areas of London, the place had the air of a great palace with its large bay windows, portico, and wide front gate. The bright white walls reminded her of the aristocratic houses in Belgravia.
What the rest home symbolised stood tall and proud; it was the only place in London where war veterans, who didn’t have a family, could stay and recover from their ordeal before finding some accommodation or a job. If the soldiers were unable to work, the Royal Veterans’ Society took care of them.
Jacob didn’t offer her his arm as they entered the rest home. “I don’t understand what the purpose of such a structure is. It should be a profitable building. We should split it in new townhouses for respectable, paying families.”
She had to bite her tongue not to reply. The soldiers in the rest home were more than respectable.
Helping soldiers who had seen too much war recover and find happiness again wasn’t a farce but a noble pursuit. Definitely more noble than Jacob’s passion for immediate pleasures, his three favourite ‘D’s as he called them— drinks, drugs, and damsels.
She couldn’t voice such a thought. He would yell at her and then pretend nothing had happened, that she was overreacting and playing the victim. One day, he’d wake up and wouldn’t find David and her in his house, and although she wouldn’t be able to see his face, it would be the best day of her life.
The polished floor and gleaming benches in the entrance hall matched the posh façade. Jacob crossed the room with longstrides while she took her time to gaze at the clean walls tinted in soothing shades of blue.
A few men sat on the wooden benches. Some of them smoked cigarettes. Others stared at the walls. Missing limbs and scars were a testament to the brutality of the wars they’d fought around the world. The men didn’t talk, nor did they wail in pain. Yet their agony was palpable. Pebbles grew on her skin at their quiet suffering. They cast disinterested glances towards Cora and Jacob as they walked down the long corridor towards somewhere.
Jacob clicked his tongue. “And they want me to approve and spend my money in this place.” He set his blue eyes on the patients with disdain.
“Spend?” she asked. Finally, she might understand what they were doing at the rest home.
He stopped in the middle of the corridor and exhaled as if he needed to collect his patience after an idiotic question. “It’s a complicated story. I won’t waste my time trying to explain it to you, but the rest home is built on a piece of land that belongs to three different people. I’m one of those.”
“You own a part of this rest home?”
He lowered his eyebrows. “You’ve never been particularly bright.”
Swallowing her next comment required all her concentration. Years ago, his insults would have shaken her deeply and reduced her to tears, making her wonder if she truly was an idiot. She was ashamed to admit in those days, she would have felt worthlessand begged for his forgiveness. Now his barbs left behind a trail of anger and resentment but not self-loathing. He couldn’t hurt her as he’d done in the past. She’d been poisoned so many times by his venom she’d grown immune to it. Not without pain.
To calm herself, she mentally counted all the pounds she’d set aside so far. Every time she stored half a shilling away, the fear of being caught chilled her because he counted every last coin he gave her and that she spent. Her maid was no better, too scared of Jacob to help her mistress. But the discomfort was worth every penny. Literally.
“This place is filled with dim-witted idiots,” he said, not caring about keeping his voice low. “David would fit here nicely.” He sniggered at his own joke.
Enough. Insulting her was one thing. But David had to be left out of his parents’ endless arguments.
“Jacob,” she said through clenched teeth. It was her turn to come to an abrupt stop in the hallway. “Don’t you dare.”
“What?” He turned towards her with a menacing, quick move. He was a formidable pugilist after all, light on his feet and strong with his fists. His chest rose, stretching the fine fabric of his waistcoat. “Stop defending that spineless boy. He’s stupid and lazy. As soon as he turns fourteen, he’ll leave for the Royal Military College, and if those tutors can’t turn him into a man with their whips and rods, then he can go and live wherever he wants as long as it’s far away from my money and me.”
Over her dead body. Anger flamed her cheeks. If her plan went well, she and David would be far from London and Jacob in a matter of months. Sometimes she wondered how Jacob would pass the time without harassing his wife and son.
Freedom was her goal. Although obsession was a more appropriate term.
It was hard to believe the evil creature in front of her was the same man who had wooed her and conquered her heart with poems, tears, and flowers. He’d been pure charm, caring and loving. He’d promised— no, sworn to respect and cherish her, telling her over and over how deeply he loved her. She’d believed his every word. What a fool she’d been.
“David doesn’t need your money,” she said.
He jabbed a finger at her. “You should be grateful that I’m in a good mood today.” He shook his head, resuming walking towards the end of the hallway. “This place needs to be cleared, and to hell with this rabble.”
That rabble he so despised included soldiers who had been deployed to every corner of the empire to fight for queen and country, and Jacob had built his fortune on the blood of those soldiers. The deeper they walked down the corridor, the more men they passed. While those in the entrance hall had been quiet, these others shivered, their teeth chattering as if the temperature were freezing. Some muttered under their breath. Her chest tightened for a man who tried and failed to button his cufflinks with a trembling hand. The more he tried, the more his hand trembled.
She couldn’t ignore him. “Do you need help, sir?” she asked, stopping in front of him.
The man blinked fast before nodding. “Thank you.”
