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CHAPTERTHREE
After her father left for his walk, despite the late hour, Edwina went up to her room and changed from her ball gown. She put on a wrapper that she might normally wear at home in the morning. Her maid raised an eyebrow as she helped Edwina dress.
“Excuse me, Miss, if I seem too forward, but are you expecting to go anywhere else this evening?” she asked timidly.
“I just…” Edwina stammered. Even though her maid had been with Edwina for a few years, she had not grown up with one like so many of the other society ladies had. Lizbeth, her maid, had been a lady’s maid to other women and often had to remind Edwina of her station. “I am not quite tired yet.”
“Not yet? It is two in the morning,” Lizbeth wondered.
“Have you heard of this Monster of London?” Edwina asked in a whisper, looking at Lizbeth in the reflection in the looking glass. Even though it was absurd, she felt if she said the name out loud, it might conjure the man in her room at once.
“Aye, I’ve heard of him,” Lizbeth affirmed, continuing to comb out Edwina’s hair. “If you do not mind me saying, I find it ironic that the gossip papers have taken up this story with such outrage. Women are attacked all the time in the poorer neighborhoods of London.”
Edwina turned on her stool, disrupting Lizbeth’s task. “Father went for a walk this evening. I am worried about him.”
“If it puts your mind at ease, then I’ve not heard of this monster attacking men,” Lizbeth said assertively, before gently turning Edwina’s head back forward.
“It is just that he is not very observant,” Edwina went on, the worry in her voice apparent. “He tends to lose his way, even in the daytime. He was so upset leaving the ball tonight that I think he might be a bit distracted.”
“I am sure there’s nothing for you to worry about,” Lizbeth said as she deftly plaited Edwina’s hair. “But I can let you know when your father returns home.”
“Would you, please?” Edwina asked, breathing a little with relief.
Lizbeth smiled reassuringly, briefly patting Edwina on the shoulder before she took her leave. Edwina continued to sit at her dressing table for another minute, her shoulders tight with worry. The clock in the hall chimed half past the hour, the chime echoing in the empty hall. Each creaking noise of the house settling startled her, and she found her heart continuing to race.
Trying to occupy her mind, Edwina tried to read for a bit but found herself reading the same lines repeatedly. She picked up her needlepoint, stitching by the light of her lamp, but her eyes quickly grew tired. She felt exhausted and knew she ought to go to bed, chiding herself for needless worry.
When the clock struck four o’clock in the morning, Edwina knew that something had to be amiss. She paced in front of her fireplace, twisting her fingers in her hands. With determination, she rang for Lizbeth, who appeared after a few moments, looking bleary-eyed.
“He still has not come home,” Edwina stated, looking for Lizbeth to affirm.
“My Lady, he may have gone somewhere for the night,” Lizbeth said gently. “All the great lords do. Sometimes they just do not come home every night, and they are perfectly safe and happy.”
Edwina clutched her jaw at the implication. “That is not what my father is like. I want to search for him, at once.”
“At this hour?” Lizbeth asked, shocked.
“Go get Bertie and ask for the carriage to be brought around. I want to go look for my father. He could be laying beaten in a ditch somewhere or lost. Or hurt. I must find him!” Lizbeth dropped into a quick curtsey before leaving to do Edwina’s bidding. Edwina continued to pace until Lizbeth returned.
“The carriage is around the front,” Lizbeth told her.
“You must come with me too,” Edwina said, beckoning to her. “I cannot go anywhere unchaperoned these days.” With a sigh, Lizbeth followed Edwina to the front of her house, her shoulders slumped with exhaustion. A footman helped Edwina to climb into the carriage, Lizbeth and Bertie following after her.
“You know where my father typically walks, do you not, Bertie?” Edwina said, addressing her father’s valet.
“Roughly,” he affirmed, his expression grim. “Your father does mention where he goes from time to time. Usually, he walks west to follow the Serpentine.”
“Let us be off then!” Edwina cried.
Bertie called out to the driver, and they set off west toward Hyde Park. Edwina strained to look out the window; in the early hour, she did not worry whether she looked unladylike. The carriage lantern cast an eerie glow over the streets, the long shadows leaping like ghosts. Her heart hammered in her chest so loudly that she wondered if she would even hear her father if he cried for help.
As they dove into Hyde Park, engulfed in darkness, Edwina grew more and more afraid. She could not see much beyond the carriage, and she imagined that behind every tree and every bush lay the monster, ready to spring forward to attack her.
“Miss, I do not think we could find him if he lay unconscious,” Bertie told her.
“We should get out of the carriage,” Edwina suggested, even though her voice shook.
“Do you think that wise?” Lizbeth said, clutching her arm, her eyes wide.
