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I was immediately wary of where he was heading with this. “Yes, but… our short-lived courtship is technically over.”
He swatted away the technicality as if it were a fly. “Our marriage is compromised because of my father and his disinheritance threats. Let’s think this through. If I cannot find proof of his deception, I have only one option, according to my father. I am legally bound to Miss Whitehall and will be on the next boat. Which leaves”—he glanced at the clock—“in a few hours.”
Still suspicious, I nodded. “True.”
“Your theory that the Ripper has moved on to another city… if we had a good reason for leaving New York—one your uncle would agree to—we might slip away before my father realizes I won’t be at the docks and comes to collect me. Correct?”
“Thomas…” Involving Uncle in this mess was the last thing I wished to do.
“Audrey Rose,” he said urgently, “if we can deduce where he’s gone and continue our investigation there, it’ll give us a legitimate reason to delay my departure. We’d have more time to solve the Miss Whitehall issue without ruining your family’s name. Otherwise I have two options. I’ll either be disowned and hunted if I don’t get on that ship tonight, or I will be legally bound to another. Is that something you can honestly live with?”
I closed my eyes, envisioning Thomas stepping onto a boat, greeting his father and soon-to-be wife. The image was so crisp, so lifelike, I gasped. “Your father will not simply give up and travel back to London. He’ll come looking for you. And who knows what he’ll do then?”
Thomas took my hands in his again, his face earnest. “I will deal with his wrath. I need to know this is something you want.”
“Of course I want you.” How he could think I wanted anything else was beyond common sense or logic. A fresh wave of panic flooded my system. “What happens if we can’t find a good lead for the Ripper? What if we don’t have any other city to investigate by the time you have to leave?”
Thomas hugged me close. “We’ll figure something out.”
I shook my head. “Uncle will not leave here on a whim. I know him. He’ll need convincing evidence to prove there’s a good reason to go.”
“We have a few hours.” Thomas sounded a bit uncertain about this desperate plan for the first time. “We’ll find something. We have to.”
“And if we don’t?”
He was quiet a moment. “Then I’ll run. I’ll disappear so thoroughly my father will never have a chance to find me.”
We gazed at each other, absorbing that fate. If Thomas ran away from his father and responsibility, he’d also be leaving me behind. My head swam with worry, but I also needed to do something. Time was slipping away from our grasps.
“Let’s hurry. We’ll tear the journals apart if we need to. Or we’ll scour the notes from Miss Tabram’s case. There’s got to be a clue somewhere.” I accepted Thomas’s hand as he helped me up. We made our way into the corridor arm in arm, and I wondered if his heart was beating as furiously as mine was. “What if—”
“None of those, Wadsworth.” Thomas patted my hand. “When. When we find the information, we’ll tell your uncle. When we’re far away from here, we’ll worry about consequences. For now, let’s focus on our immediate concern. I’ll go speak with your uncle and tell him our theory about the Ripper leaving New York. You start in on our notes or journals.”
Daciana stood near the newel-post, clutching it tightly. Dark circles marred the skin under her eyes. She hadn’t been sleeping much since the wedding went to hell. “Ileana and I would like to help. We’re quite good at finding hidden clues. It’s…” I had the impression she was choosing her next words carefully, but I was buzzing with too much worry to reflect on it. “We’ve had practice with the Order. If you’d like, we’ll handle the journals and you can take the last murder case. It’ll help if we all split the work.”
Thomas considered this for the space of a breath. He nodded sharply, a slight gleam in his eyes. “Thank you, Daci. The journals are in Audrey Rose’s chambers. You’ll both need to hurry; there are… a lot.”
The Cresswell siblings held each other’s gazes for a minute, silently communicating. A moment later, Daciana grabbed her skirts and dashed up the stairs, calling to her love as she rounded into the corridor.
Thomas kissed my head and went in search of my uncle while I collected notes from both Martha Tabram’s murder and Miss Carrie Brown’s. Even though the police had arrested Frenchy Number One, I knew he was not the man responsible. This was our Ripper and he was only just starting his newest murder trail. I settled into a sitting room on the first floor with pages of notes scattered around me.
I tried not to look at the clock, but all I could hear was the wretched tick tick tick of the second hand counting off our remaining hours. Time was not our ally. It seemed to rush more quickly than my pulse. At some point Thomas joined me in the sitting room, his own pile of notes in larger disarray than mine. Uncle had agreed to changing locations, as long as we provided a good argument for where. The Ripper case haunted him, too, and he wished to end it.
Somehow, despite focusing all of my energy on our task and willing the clock to slow, there was only one hour remaining before Thomas needed to leave. Every muscle in my body was taut, ready to snap. He sat back and heaved a sigh.
“I need to pack my trunks, Wadsworth. I can’t risk staying any longer, or else my father will undoubtedly be here and I’m sure he’ll have hired assistance with getting me to that boat. He won’t trust that I’ll get there on my own.”
He pushed himself into a standing position, defeat obvious in the lines around his mouth. Everything about this felt wrong. I stood, heart racing.
“Let’s run,” I said, a sob ripping through my words. Thomas froze for the space of one moment before he lifted me into his arms, holding me tightly to him. If Thomas and I eloped, it would help calm the scandal. As would the fact that we were in America and the rumors would be delayed. It wasn’t ideal, but it could work. It had to. Then we could still pursue Jack the Ripper leads together. “Are you certain we have enough time to pack?”
Thomas let me go and looked at the clock, his face grim. “Barely. Pack lightly. We’ll meet in twenty minutes. I’ll have the coachman ready a carriage now.”
He kissed my cheek and ran for the door. I didn’t linger. I made my way upstairs as fast as my leg would allow, pulse pounding in time with the seconds. I shoved dresses and brushes and unmentionables into a trunk, relieved I’d left a decent portion tucked away already. I finished with a few minutes to spare and called down for a footman to retrieve my trunk. While I waited, I scribbled a note to Liza and then one to my father. I didn’t have time to say good-bye, nor did I want to involve them in our scheme.
I was already waiting for Thomas in the corridor downstairs when he grabbed our trunk
s, helping the footman move more quickly.
