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“Have you heard?” she exclaimed, taking Mrs. Fenton’s hands with urgency.
“Heard what?” Mrs. Fenton asked, concerned.
Edwina and Leticia stepped forward with curiosity as Lady Pembroke started to talk in a low voice. “I have just heard from a friend that Lady Stafford was attacked last night.”
“Lady Stafford?” Edwina asked.
“She is the Countess of Stafford, very highly esteemed,” Mrs. Fenton explained before looking back to Lady Pembroke. “Last night? What happened?”
“She says that she was dragged from her carriage, just like all the others, nearly strangled to death, and…” Lady Pembroke explained and shook her head. “I cannot say anymore. I cannot believe it. How terrible!”
“This is horrible!” Mrs. Fenton cried.
“Did she see what the man looked like?” Edwina asked, pressing forward to Lady Pembroke.
“My friend said Lady Stafford did not remember very much, but that the man wore a mask and was very scarred,” she explained.
“Something must be done about this!” Albert cried, eavesdropping on their conversation.
However, Edwina barely heard him as she felt her head swim. Fergus had been away the previous evening. To hear that the attacker wore a mask, had scars, and how others said he had dressed like a gentleman was more than she could bear. She could not believe that Fergus would do anything as they described, but the coincidences were more than she could comprehend.
“I feel faint,” Edwina breathed, reaching out to Mrs. Fenton. Her hand missed Mrs. Fenton’s arm, though, and she kneeled to the side, her vision going gray and a roar filling her ears. She heard a cry rise around her and felt herself hit the cold, stone floor. Muffled voices crowded around her as outrage rose in the ballroom.
“She fainted from fear!” someone said. “It was the story of the Monster of London.”
“Someone really must do something about this brute,” someone else said. “The constables do not have it in hand!”
Edwina tried to push herself up, but her head continued to reel. “Easy now,” she heard someone say. Someone lifted a glass of water to her lips, and she tried to drink. As they pulled it away, she smelt the acrid smell of smelling salts, and she gasped.
“There she is!” Mrs. Fenton gasped in relief. Miss Beasley and Polly had materialized by her side.
“Did you faint for real?” Miss Beasley asked.
“Of course she did,” Polly argued. “She is married.”
“She has had a terrible fright,” Mrs. Fenton said, giving them a cutting look as she helped Edwina to sit up. “Can you stand, Your Grace?”
“Really, something must be done about this monster,” Albert said again, turning out into the crowd. “Should we just stand aside and allow our women to be harassed and tormented, to live in fear like this?”
A chorus of cries went up in the crowd.
“Obviously, our constables have failed us. They do not care about us!” Albert cried out, gaining fervor from the crowd. “They would see our wives and daughters battered and defiled, ruined!”
“Never!” some men called out. Edwina grasped at Mrs. Fenton’s arm, terrified by the scene unfolding before her. Albert lifted his fist in the air, the energy of the men around him palpable.
“We shall go out and hunt this monster down ourselves! We will take back our lives! We shall take back our safety and security!”
“Hear, hear!” the chorus called out.
“Who is with me?” Albert cried out. He pointed to a man. “You, My Lord. Will you go out into the night with me to hunt down this monster?”
“Until he is dead!” the man replied, throwing a fist into the air.
“And you!” Albert shouted, pointing to another man. “Will you risk life and limb to keep your wife safe? Or, will you cower at home in the nursery with your children!”
“I am with you!” the man shouted, stepping forward angrily. “This monster will not scare me!”
“This is terrible!” Edwina whispered, clutching at Mrs. Fenton. “They do not even know who they are going after!”
